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bari-the-witch · 1 year

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Couples Quiz Night Part 1

Part 2

Heya dear people of the fandom!

I originall wanted to post this as a whole but because my private life is a bitch right now it's going to take a while to finish this. I decided to post the first part now, so you don't have to wait for something to read. Don't worry, I didn't ditch this. I have too much fun writing this!

A few people wanted me to tag them. So, here they are:

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @grtwdsmwhr @lightwoodbanethings @eggrollofchaos01 @gamerdano @miss-hit @photoaesthetic @alexdesappho @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring (with cherries on top ;D) @gay-stranger-things @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona @thepainisspicy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @alienace @ashwinmeird @satan-is-obsessed @ninjapirateunicorns

Hope you enjoy!

And beware: English is not my native language so there might be a few mistakes here and there. Even though I used two different spell checkers/grammar programs.

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Indianapolis, Indiana

July 10, 1987

“Honey, I’m home,” Steve called as he entered the apartment, toeing off his shoes and placing them neatly beside Eddie’s beaten-up sneakers and Robin’s red Converse before slowly making his way to the kitchen.

They had moved to Indianapolis half a year ago, leaving Hawkins behind for good. Between Steve’s shitty parents, Robin’s desire for freedom, and Eddie’s problems with the dear citizens of Hawkins even though his innocence was proven, it wasn’t a particularly difficult decision to make. They were still close enough in case their friends needed help but far enough away to finally heal.

Fortunately, they quickly found a three-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city and were able to afford it with their combined financial forces. Steve was glad he had taken the leap of faith to move here.

His life was a lot better now.

“Welcome back dingus,” Robin greeted him with a mock salute while Eddie just waved. They were both sitting on the kitchen counter together (although they had a small dining table not two feet away), sipping something that looked suspiciously like red wine.

“Already started without me?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you came back home this late,” Robin protested.

“Rob, you literally pressured me into letting you leave earlier so you could get,” Steve eyed the wine glass in her hands, “ready for tonight. I see you’re using your time wisely.”

“It’s totally Eddie’s fault. I swear!”

“Hey! You’re the one who wanted to crack a bottle to get all nice and tipsy before our night out. So you won’t lose your nerves because of Nan-.”

“Shut it, Munson!” Robin grinds out through gritted teeth, a deep blush darkening her cheeks. She smacked a hand over Eddie’s mouth to silence him....only for her to draw it back in disgust immediately. “Eww. Did you just lick my hand? What are you, twelve?”

“Why are you so embarrassed, Bucks? It’s not exactly a secret,” Eddie replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

Robin hung her head in defeat and sighed. “I know. It’s just… every time I meet her, I make a total ass out of myself, you know? I just want to be this cool person that doesn’t start spewing out unnecessary facts no one cares about.”

“With alcohol?” Steve asked amusedly, holding up his hands in defense when she glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Come on, Rob. Nancy likes you. Even your rambling. She thinks it’s endearing.”

“She does?”

Steve nodded. Nancy had told him a few weeks ago when they met up in a small cafe during their lunch break. She also said a few other things about Robin but it wasn’t Steve’s place to tell her that.

“That’s-. I need to get ready. I- Boys, see you later!” she exclaimed dramatically and hopped off the counter, marching straight into her room, and closing the door behind her.

“Well, she sure seems excited now,” Eddie chuckled.

They’re alone in the kitchen right now, and Steve is well aware of that. You see the thing is, moving to the big city and living together with his friends had not only made his life better but also significantly more complicated.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t always found men attractive. However, growing up in the Harrington household had taught him to keep these kinds of thoughts buried deep inside him. His father wasn’t very fond of queer people (an understatement) and would not have liked his son to be one of them (also an understatement). Moving here, living together with Eddie day after day, and finally being free from his father’s clutches had thrown him into the biggest sexuality crisis known to mankind.

At first, it was just mild infatuation that soon grew and spread into a full-blown crush, leaving him scared and confused. But it was OK, really. There wouldn't be anything coming out of it anyway. Steve was positively sure Eddie didn’t even like men that way, let alone him. So all he had to do was wait for this to blow over.

Well, that is, until Eddie decided to tear down Steve’s most effective defense mechanisms by outing himself a few weeks after moving in.

Suddenly, Eddie didn’t seem out of reach anymore, throwing Steve into the next crisis on top of the first. It got so obvious there was something wrong with him that Robin pulled him aside one night when it was just the two of them.

He finally spilled his beans that night. From the fact that he seemed to always have liked men as equally as women (bisexuality, Robin called it), down to his embarrassing all-consuming crush on Eddie.

She listened intently, asking a few questions here and there but otherwise letting him do the talking.

“What makes you think he doesn’t like you that way?” Robin asked earnestly.

“I just know,” Steve answered dejectedly and Robin didn’t press.

“Hey, Steve. You in there?”

Steve snapped out of his thoughts and shifted his attention back to the present. Eddie was standing in front of him, a worried expression on his handsome face.

“Huh? Sorry I- just got lost in my own head.”

“Shit, you really scared me there, man. Didn't we talk about not spacing out at random?" Eddie asked, relief evident in his voice. “For a second, I thought Vecna was back or something.”

“I know, I know, sorry.”

Only now did Steve realize how close they were. And that Eddie was grabbing both of his shoulders, the touch sending a spark of something through his body. The fact that Eddie was a very tactile person, touching Steve whenever he had the opportunity to, didn’t make dealing with his crush any easier.

"I, um," Steve started, trying hard not to stare at Eddie’s lips. “I need to get ready. For later. Shower, yes.” He stumbled over his words like a pre-schooler talking to his crush for the first time. Jesus, get it together. What happened to your famous Harrington charm?

“I mean, I’m gonna head to the shower. Or do you wanna go first?”

“Nah, I already did, so… It’s all yours,” Eddie answered before finally releasing his shoulders, and taking a step back. Steve nearly breathed out in relief.

“Well then, see you later.” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, grabbed the wine glass from the kitchen counter behind him, and made his way to his room. Before he stepped inside, he turned around again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh and Steve? Just take your time. I know how much you like getting all dolled up for me.”

Heat shot to Steve’s cheeks while his heart did a full ballet routine in his chest. But befor he had the chance to react, Eddie disappeared inside and closed the door behind him.

Oh, did he forget to mention that Eddie was a notorious flirt, too?

Steve slammed the bathroom door with more force than necessary. He stripped down angrily and stood under the warm spray of the shower, trying to relax.

Fuck, he used to be good at this. Really good. With girls swooning left and right, just looking at them. He had been King Steve for fucks sake.

But then Eddie appeared and Steve’s famous Harrington charm, which was already in a nosedive anyway, crashed and burned to the ground, shattering into a million useless pieces. Eddie, with his stupid wide-brown doe-eyes, his equally ridiculous dark curly hair, and this fucking dimpled smile that always made Steve tremble and weak in the knees. And don’t forget all the stupid pet names he threw at him like candy, coming up with a new one every week.

Don’t get him wrong. Most of the time he’s glad the King Steve days are over. He just missed it sometimes, being that cocky, self-confident guy, strutting the halls of High School instead of this easily flustered tongue-tied idiot he was now.

Standing in front of the mirror after his shower, Steve had to resist the urge not to style his hair just to teach Eddie a lesson.

He dismissed that thought quickly, though. Not even that would make him leave the house looking like that. He still had some self-respect after all.

Steve stayed holed up in his room until Robin told him it was time to leave. He knew it wasn’t a permanent solution to his problem, not with them living and spending so much time together, but he just needed a break to collect himself.

The next few hours will be exhausting enough.

Going out tonight was all Robin's idea.

Since moving to the big city she had used every opportunity to get out of the house and into every gay bar she could get her hands on. She called it her ‘mandatory gay experience’ and Steve was glad she finally popped out of the shell she had built around herself while living in Hawkins.

And because Steve was such a good friend (the best) he tagged along when she asked him to, week after week. Sometimes just the two of the, sometimes with Eddie and Nancy in tow.

And so it happened that Steve found himself at one of those bars again on a Friday night, pressed against Eddie’s side, while Robin and Nancy sat across from them. The seating arrangement hadn’t exactly been Steve’s decision, but Robin had nearly knocked out his teeth trying to scramble into the booth beside Nancy. This left him with no other choice than to sit beside Eddie.

It was beautiful and terrible at the same time.

This close, Steve could feel Eddie's warmth through the layers of their clothes, leaving a tingling feeling wherever they touched. He tried not to show how much it affected him, but from the smirk, Robin was giving him from across the table, he was failing miserably.

Meanwhile, Eddie didn’t seem affected at all. He was his usual animated self, gesticulating around widely while telling Nancy a story about one of his co-workers who almost burned down the kitchen.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Steve followed the movement of Eddie’s mouth with his eyes. How he licked his lips from time to time or the way he bit his lower lip when trying to keep himself from laughing at his own story.

God, those damn kissable lips…

Stabbing pain shooting through his shin made Steve tear his eyes from Eddie’s mouth immediately.

He glared at Robin, who had a far too innocent expression on her face and only mumbled a soft “You’re staring again dingus” in return, before turning back to the conversation.

Oh shit. Had he been that obvious again?

Fortunately, Eddie didn’t seem to have noticed Steve’s brief staring contest with his lips (or so he hoped), being far too engrossed in telling the girls his funny story.

Thank God.

Later, Robin and Nancy had gone to get them a new round of drinks and from what Steve could see, it would take them a while to get back to the table. As the night progressed the bar had gotten steadily more packed which wasn’t surprising considering it was a Friday night. Steve was glad they had gotten here early.

As the girls returned with fresh drinks in tow and sat down again, Robin slid something into the middle of the table.

“You boys wouldn’t believe me what we’ve found,” she said delightedly, tapping at the small piece of paper with her finger Steve could identify as a flyer now. “Sounds pretty interesting to me.”

Next to her, Nancy nodded approvingly, sipping at her drink.

Eddie snatched it before Steve could take a closer look, tossing it back on the table with a snort a few seconds after.

“Couples Quiz Night, huh? I think I’d rather stab myself than join this, thank you very much.”

“What? Is that too uncool for lil’ ol’ Eddie?” Robin asked challengingly.

“You bet, Bucks. That shit’s only for couples that desperately try to make others jealous by showing how great they are.”

Eddie’s reply started a bickering match about the pros and cons of couples quiz night between him and Robin. Steve just rolled his eyes fondly, glad that the two most important people in his life had become such good friends and got along so well. He didn’t want to imagine a world where those two weren’t part of it at the same time.

Curious, Steve decided to take a look at it and grabbed the flyer off the table. Trying to tune out the agitated chatter of his friends he started to read.

The hand-sized flyer didn’t contain much information besides the name and date of the event written in big bold green letters and something about a prize you could win. Steve remembered doing something like this with his girlfriend Lisa (now an ex-girlfriend, fortunately) back in Hawkins. It ended in a complete and utter disaster because he and Lisa hadn’t even gotten one question right. It wasn’t exactly one of his proudest moments as a boyfriend.

"What?"

Steve flinched at Eddie's ear-splitting screech, immediately scanning the room for any signs of danger, his shoulders sagging in relief when he couldn't find any.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I need them!"

Eddie looked at his friends one by one with big pleading eyes and, to top it off, even jutted out his lower lip. When no one seemed to take the bait right away, because they were all used to Eddie's antics, he fixed his gaze on Steve who still was none the wiser about what brought on Eddie's over the top reaction.

“Stevie?”

Steve quickly averted his eyes. He knew he couldn't say no to Eddie (to whatever he would ask of him) if he kept looking at him like that.

“Wait. That’s actually not a terrible idea,” Nancy said, sipping her drink like the traitor she is. “I mean, this is a gay bar, right? So there shouldn’t be any problems. And you two are so close, I bet you can easily fake it.”

Huh? Fake it?

Robin seemed to have noticed Steve’s confusion because she immediately started to explain. “Eddie wants to take part in the couples quiz night since he found out what the super secret prize is.”

“And … what does this have to do with me?” A sense of dread started to creep up on him.

“He wants you to join him,” Nancy answered matter-of-factly. “It’s a couples quiz after all.”

“But we aren’t a couple?” Steve asked perplexed. “Unless I missed something.”

The thought of him and Eddie being a couple made his insides all gooey and he quickly shoved it away.

“That’s why we’re gonna fake it, sweetheart!” Eddie laughed and threw an arm around, pressing him snuggly into his side.

Wait, what?

“You want me,” Steve pointed a trembling finger to himself and then at Eddie while trying to keep his voice even, “to fake a relationship with you to win a stupid prize at a Couples Quiz Night?”

“Hey, the prize is not stupid. How dare-”

“Yup. That’s exactly what he said.” Nancy answered nonchalantly, before taking a sip from her drink, giving Steve a look from under her lashes he didn’t like one bit.

“Yeah, come on, Steve, don’t be a spoilsport. It'll be fun!” Robin backed her up, of course, with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“Yes, Stevie. Listen to our friends."

“What happened to ‘rather stabbing yourself than joining this?’” Steve asked dryly, a last desperate attempt to wiggle out of this somehow.

“Steve. Steve-o. My best friend. Light of my life, did you not listen to anything the guy said?" Eddie asked sweetly and huffed when Steve only shrugged his shoulders. "It’s fucking tickets for a Metallica concert at Market Square Arena. That shit’s been sold out for weeks! Dude, I’d sell my soul for this if I could. So screw what I said before. I. Want. Those. Tickets.”

Steve felt his resolve start to crumble like a house of cards. He knew how much those tickets meant to Eddie. The guy literally hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks and was totally crushed when he heard it was sold out.

Steve sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

He was absolutely sure that this was going to end in total disaster as it did with Lisa. And then Eddie would be mad at him about not winning those tickets, about him not being able to answer some stupid questions in a stupid quiz and -

- and then he made the mistake of looking into Eddie's pleading eyes.

Shit.

Rookie mistake.

Steve sighed, getting ready to succumb to his inevitable fate.

“Fine. But if we’re doing this, you owe me, Munson. Big time.”

“Oh my god, thank you! You’re absolutely the best! You won't regret it. Promise!” Eddie clapped his hands together a few times with barely concealed glee, bouncing on his seat like a maniac. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that he regretted it the moment he agreed to do it.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t cream your-. Hey, what are you doing?”

Eddie nearly shoved him off the booth and Steve quickly stood up to prevent himself from planting his face on the floor.

"What the hell, Munson?"

"Come on, come on. There are two Metallica tickets with our names on them, I heard.”

“I don’t think-.”

“Less talking, more walking, Stevie,” Eddie tutted, grabbind Steve around the wrist and dragging Steve mercilessly behind him without waiting for a response.

Glancing at the girls for help, Steve was only met with a thumbs up from Nancy and an overdramatic smooching gesture from Robin.

Screw Nancy's guns. He was so going to strangle them after this was over.

Eddie made it through the crowd with relative ease, slipping smoothly between the bodies on his way over to the bar while Steve bumped into people left and right, receiving tons of dirty looks in return. He didn't even have time to apologize, not with Eddie dragging him behind him like this.

At the bar, Eddie squeezed himself between two scrawny-looking guys, eagerly waving the bartender over. With Eddie's hand still clasped around his wrist, Steve didn't have much choice than to stand way too close behind him.

“Yeah? What can I get ya?”

“Hey, we heard about a quiz tonight and really wanted to join. Because I somehow can’t convince this knucklehead," Eddie turned back to him and had the fucking audacity to wink, then turned tack to the baarkeeper. "that we’re made for each other.” He put a hand on his heart, sighing deeply like he was carrying the whole world on his shoulders. “Maybe that’ll finally make him see it. You know?”

God, Eddie really was a theater kid, huh?

No way in hell someone would buy this little performance. Not when Eddie was laying it on this thick. Not in a million years.

But to Steve’s horror, the guy took a pen and a piece of paper from somewhere and shoved it over the counter. “Relationships are tough, man,” he nodded with a sigh, a look of pity in his eyes. Steve wondered if the guy was either a newbie or simply not good at reading people.

“Just write down your names here. We’re starting in ten minutes. So you better be ready.”

Then he left them alone to tend to some other customers demanding his attention.

“Ten minutes?” Steve hissed into Eddie’s ear from behind, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach running amok. “How should we come up with matching answers in ten minutes?”

Unimpressed by Steve’s tiny little freak-out, Eddie scribbled down their names in his neat handwriting before turning around. Their faces were barely a hair's breadth away and if Steve wanted to he just could lean forward and - no. Nope. Bad idea.

“Relax,” Eddie said, his breath caressing Steve’s lips, nearly driving him insane. “We don’t even know what they’re going to ask so I guess we just have to trust in the power of our relationship.”

“Which doesn’t exist," Steve replied dryly, proud of how even his voice sounded. "Listen, it’s always the same shit, like favorite color, favorite food, who kissed the other first yadda yadda yadda. So we need to-.”

“Wait wait wait. You did something like this before?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, his mouth twisting into a grin. “Stevie, you absolute romantic! You really know how to make a girl feel special,” he giggled, twisting a curl around his finger like a girl in those corny teenage movies Robin always made them watch as punishment for whatever.

“Yeah, I bet Lisa would disagree with you on that,” Steve grimaced, shuddering at the memory. “Whatever. Do you wanna go over some possible questions or not?”

Eddie tapped a finger against his lips, weighing his head left and right a few times like he was thinking really hard about his answer.

But then he leaned forward, bridging the gap between them and pressing his lips against Steve’s cheek. Just a short peck.

Steve's eyes widened in shock.

“I don’t think we’re going to need that, sweetheart,” he whispered softly before drawing back again. Which isn’t very far because they’re still unbelievably close, their noses almost touching. "Just trust in us, ok?"

Steve, whose brain had shut down the moment Eddie’s lips touched his face, nodded dumbly, his mouth open. Eddie’s smile grew and he took Steve’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers before pulling him toward the stage.

#steddie fanfic #steddie fandom #steddie

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the-nysh · 2 years

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Hi Nysh!🐣 In general, on what basis does this or that fictional char become your favourite? For ex, they possess qualities that you admire or you find yourself in them and can relate to them or their actions and personality are interesting to analyze etc.

Ooh :D well fortunately I've described some favorite character types briefly here, but I’ll continue to elaborate:

- Emotionally constipated sons who overcompensate because the feelings they fear are too much for their vessels to contain. (Aka their feelings are far stronger than they know how to properly manage or navigate; in which they mistakenly think these feelings are a weakness/vulnerability, so they try so hard to repress them down, which usually backfires, because in fact those feelings are one of their biggest purest strengths; a core part of themselves they can’t get rid of.) They must learn how to properly face that avoided truth in their hearts or else they risk self-destructive tendencies. It’s always an inner struggle about accepting/finding/mastering/overcoming oneself I find most compelling and endearing to witness, every time. :’) (Longtime archetype: Raphael; towards more recent favs: Genos, Mob, Kacchan, Garou...they all have that compelling ‘element’ that draws me in that I can’t look away from. 👀)

- Or responsible and strong, dignified, nuanced ladies who both feel and fight for a purpose. (Most fond examples: Teresa of the Faint Smile, Nausicaa; Ryougi Shiki the one in my icon, Homura, etc.) Emotionally, I prefer them to be a bit more ‘cooled’ (ie more mature and self-aware) than the fiery sons I’m fond for, but these ladies can still snap with their passionate sides or show feral (protective) rage too when the moment strikes, which is always an impressive often scary treat. (Most impressionable example that’s stuck with me: when the usually kind, pacifist Nausicaa snapped in feral anger when she saw her father killed, enough to kill others herself, that she became afraid of that side of herself and what she’s capable of when those inner feelings take over...oh oohh!!!! So good. That you can see how characters like Mob similarly struggle containing such strong feelings too.)

Superficially, if characters are generally designed cute, funny/dorky, and badass (all together in one package) then they'll usually gain my attention. (Bonus if they're oblivious dummy asshole little shits for fun entertainment too.) But for them to really ‘take’ my feelings further, they’ll usually need a bit more involvement...

Cause it’s those that can make me feel AND think (enough to write endlessly about, yes) are the characters who I often take to most strongly, because yes....there’s some of that relatability factor involved, in which I can see some of my younger self in their emotional struggles too. Because for example...I understand the kind of anger over experiencing a loss beyond one’s control (like a death in the family)...and that anger from feeling powerlessness (enough to hurt yourself or others thru the guilt/frustration) is some of the ugliest you can feel. :’) It’s part of what originally drew me to Genos for example, and the moment of recognition hit me like a lightning strike when Kacchan admitted in self-imploding agony: ‘why was I the one to end All Might?’ Hoo boy, I felt that, even his misplaced guilt/responsibility thrust on himself when none of that (the parts beyond his control) were his fault. (This is why I fondly dub them ‘sons,’ because aahh, they’re feeling some of what I’ve already been through. :’3)

So what it takes for me to Understand(tm) and connect to them on a deeper, empathetic level can all come together within a single moment (like for that Kacchan example) or it can be a more gradual process over time (like for Garou), while actively witnessing their growth/struggles, and looking forward to how they come into their own (better) selves. :’3 But that fondness, of how it feels when you scan for any sightings of them, which also keeps your eyes glued to the pages with them, enough to evoke that familiar, even comforting sense that sparks joy, to the point where you just know -there he is-...ah yes, that ‘favorite’ feeling’s definitely the same.

#oceanfromriver #replies #long text post #oh i'm not sure how to tag this #anyway if you were to describe their emotional states in colors #i prefer fictional guys to be on the 'red' side while fictional girls more on the 'violet'#but definitely not blue; characters too gloomily icy or too chill/calm (or too Nice) without that fiery side usually don't take to me #because there's no active emotional struggle for me to resonate with and watch :')#(anyway i say this when i usually prefer green bc i find it most soothing but aha that's getting beside the point :'D)

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thelivingmemegod · 5 months

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What are your thoughts on the Rainbow Vision dolls? (There's like three different bands in it)

I don’t know why but Dollect separates Shadow high from Rainbow high completely but it does so the Rainbow Divas and Royal Three will be first, then Neon Shadow.

Royal Three: Tiara Song!

I don’t entirely love her base outfit. It’s again, the fault of RH’s super short torso’s but her bodysuit and skirt look awkward. Her cropped jacket is cute though. Lover her boots, mic, nails and tiara though, all fire.

Her second outfit is so fucking Kpop I love it.

That half blazer, turtleneck bodysuit and skirt combo feels like irl kpop girlies have worn it and it’s perfect. The only thing I’d change is, once again, make them short boots. Both because I’d like them better and because it’s more actuate to kpop girls shoes. They’re rarely ever performing strappy heels like this.

Her third outfit feels like a personal style one, so it’s pretty simple and nice, and the strappy heels work!

Royal Three: Tessa park!

Love her stage outfit. She looks a lot like K/DA Akali (both the Popstars and All Out eras)

I love her leather half pants (especially with the print down the side), long sock, sneakers and crop shirt, sunglasses and mic but the real show? RACING 👏 JACKET 👏 ITS SO COOL I also seriously love her sneakers they’re soooo good.

Her second outfit, I’d like much more if it didn’t have. The weird thing on it. I have no idea what that is. But I love the pants with the underwear band showing and the short, sports bra like top. The strappy heels don’t look bad but I’d probably keep her sneakers on for that. Her third outfit is mostly the same, but the top is swapped for a plane tshirt and I like it!

Royal three: Minnie Choi

CUTE. GOD. My favorite stage outfit by far.

Her pearl top and jacket and zip pleated skirt are SO cute topped with those BOOTS I love it here. I especially love the paneling of the boots, kinda draws back up to the skirt. I also really, really love her heart mic.

Her second outfit I like…a bit less. Because it feels like the black and pearl accenting gets a little too busy for the doll scale. If it was full size I think it would be just fine.

Third out is why I think it’s that. Cuz pair that skirt with a normal tshirt and it’s just fine, the skirt is really cute actually.

I do have one question: If you’re gonna make molded socks AND shoes. Why not just make them boots then? My only gripe for her anyways let’s go!

Rainbow Divas: Meline Luxe!

God just. Look at her. Look at her she’s so-

*Scream*

EVEN HER SECOND OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE SHE’S ANSWERING THE DOOR TO THE POLICE AFTER KILLING HER RICH HUSBAND???

The brown eyes check, the golden curls, check, the EXTREME high low skirt and half shoulder top. With the chains and sequins and tule I just AH-

I crave and need a slip dress like the second outfit and those CHAIN STRAP HEELS I AM-

Rainbow Divas: Ayesha Sterling!

SAME VERSE SAME AS THE FIRST BABEY.

The extreme high low but in a different way from Meline and it also has floof all around the hems, that’s 1. What’s two is that dark skin, silver outfit and hair CONTRAST IM GONNA-

Second outfit, beautiful wonderful. I adore this sequin two piece and the FEATHER BOA AHHHH-

Rainbow Divas: Sabrina St. Cloud!

UNEVEN HEM MERMAID DRESS YESSS

Once again, the sequins and the top bit and the belt and the heels I just UGHHHa

Then mis ma’am in her skirt and top set with that cunty ass fur coat and. For once. I like the sparkly socks and shoes. I like it here. Plus the gold and pink accessories??? GIRL GN IM PASSING AWAY.

In summery:

Neon Shadow: Harley Limestone!

I love her stage outfit, this huge hoodie and shorts that almost touch her socks that are only a little longer than her knee high lace up shoes. I love her like greeen sleeves and the chunky Japanese characters on her hoodie. I love her barbed wire cat ears too.

(Fun fact I used to have converse that tall and I LOVED THEM. I grew out of them and I’d kill to have them again but they’re super expensive now)

Second outfit is fire. The printed top, white and green jacket and the almost…cargo color jeans with the cat heads on it? It’s very hot topic and I love that for her. Her steel toe high tops are amazing and I love all the studs.

Neon Shadow: Uma Vamhoose!

She looks good! The blues and purples work pretty well together, mostly with her hair. I like the sequin top and net one underneath. The spit pants are cool but I do wish the actual pattern was the same on both legs. Like that is…the same pattern. Heels are cool, I like the hat.

Second outfit is hella cute! Cute tshirt, cool trench coat with the leather-y sleeves and the rhinestones on them. Skirt is really cute, the purple and blue are really nice. Love the shoes.

Neon Shadow: Mara Pinkette!

Firstly, I think Mara’s skin wasn’t a great choice color wise. Because everything but her eyes washes her out really badly.

Love the like…Disney hat-but-cat hat she has on? Then the pink crimps are nice, her short sleeve jean jacket rocks and I love her t-shirt dress and the sock type-boots. Her outfit is great honestly it’s just her skintone.

Next up, I love this outfit! Dress is cute as hell, studded boots with pink soles and the jacket is super cute.

The band is distinctly very hot topic and I love that for them

#sky rambles #sky talks dolls #sky talks fashion

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

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rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

#every time i write a baby fic im like #is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies #rowaelin #my writing #tog

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

---------------

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

#disaster lineage #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #jango fett #jaster mereel #time travel #mandalore #tatooine #de aging #babies #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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shitty17 · 4 years

Text

the racebending shit in hellvrai is like........ how the fuck do i put this.

okay. okay. the original intention when people started drawing canonically white characters as other races was specifically to make people of color feel included in fandom. It was made by people of color for people of color. It started in fandoms waaaay before the time of half life funny. I think it had a HUGE stake in homestuck when Andrew Hussie himself started listening to fans of color and publicly addressed the fandoms racism. It has history and a place. Drawing characters who are canonically “aracial” or white as a person of color was made SPECIFICALLY to piss off and scare away racists, let fans of color feel safe and welcomed into their fandom, and teach people to unlearn their racism and think more critically about how people of color are represented (or not represented) in media. It was not made for white people, it never will be for white people, it is not a place where white people are welcome to do anything but listen and learn.

hellfrai’s fandom drawing characters as people of color is so glaringly obviously painfully white in the way they do it. So many of the depictions of characters being racebent range from “ambiguously brown” to “literal racist stereotypes”. There is a reason for this. The fandom is predominantly made of very young white artists who most likely live sheltered lives, and likely are doing it because they know that being inclusive of all races is something a good person does. Drawing a character of color is a signal to let racists know they are not welcome here. But they don’t know anything outside of that. They think that just slapping a darker skin tone on a white character means “i’m not racist”. They don’t stop to think about actual people of color and how they feel or why they’re doing it. Their activism starts and ends there. And then they get confused and upset when they get critiqued about it.

Here’s the thing. You CANNOT just race bend a character randomly if you’re white. That’s literally just using people of color, their culture, their experiences, and their struggles, as some sort of wash cloth to wipe yourself of any responsibility for your racism. Your intentions might be good, but if you’re simply signaling to other white people “racism is bad” then your activism is completely useless. If you’re going to do it, take notes from actual fans of color. and really, ACTUALLY listen to them. Listen to their experiences and stories. AND BE SUPER CAREFUL THAT YOU DON’T THINK “oh because i heard this one experience from this one person of color, that means i can apply it to a characters race” BECAUSE THAT IS STEREOTYPING. Don’t talk over them. Make fanart of their designs! Enjoy their content and boost their voices!

You guys are VERY clearly doing annoying pageantry where your whole thing is “Look I’m one of the cool white people because I also think white people are annoying! I’m making fun of white people! Haha white bread!” You need to stop. You need to stop RIGHT NOW because literally all you’re doing is absolving yourself of having to critically think about your whiteness and what racism you’re perpetuating. You’re taking jokes that people of color have made and making them super annoying and completely worthless because they are not coming from a place of trauma and anguish from systematic racism and oppression, they’re coming from a place of insecurity and desperately wanting to fit in. It’s shallow and shows crystal clear that you don’t actually care about people of color, you just don’t want to be seen as racist. You’re lazy.

“If I can’t draw characters of color because it’s problematic, then i should just draw everyone as white” You’re lazy and racist and only see people of color as a way to get internet clout. You’ve given up because you don’t actually care about people of color, you just want an easy way to be seen as cool.

“My style is to exaggerate features anyway, it’s not my fault if it’s read as a stereotype” No, it is. It’s definitely your fault. You didn’t put in the work to actually study what people of color look like or listen to them when they try to tell you, you wanted a quick easy way to get across that these characters are not white so you could get internet clout. Draw some actual facial studies. Like, a lot of them. Realistic ones. Don’t fall back on geometric shapes and cartoons, what you’re drawing effects things that happen in real life, so draw shit from real life. Step out of your comfort zone if you ever want to be a good artist.

“But people of color are just so much better looking than white people!” If you’re saying this while you’re white you’re treating people of color as a fetish. You’re being creepy and racist because you’re saying shit that just sounds cool because a person of color said it. Cut it the fuck out.

You need to put in the work. If you really want to help stop racism in fandom spaces you have to actually listen to people of color and accept that you are white and that it’s a life long journey to unlearn racism. And don’t you dare turn it into a “i’m sorry for being white” pain olympics guilt pity party because it’s not about you. It will never be about you. It’s about fans of color. If you want to get better about it, then your first step is to shut up and listen. Say you’re sorry in your head, but act out what you believe is right by giving fans of color a platform. Amplify their voices and learn. Don’t drown in white guilt. When you get called out on something, apologize, do research or ask about how you can be better about it, and actually put in the work. Don’t put it on people of color to forgive you and absolve you of your sins either. You need to actually stand by fans of color and help them.

This is a very complicated issue that cannot be solved with a few easy to digest pieces of information. But it’s an issue that MUST be worked on constantly, easy or not. Don’t give up.

#long post #racism #should i tag this as hlvrai #my post #idk man just #this post got away from me but the long and short of it is #dont be fucking lazy when it comes to your activism #this isnt play time for internet clout you are doing real ass damage to real ass people #take this shit seriously jesus christ

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imaeraser · 3 years

Note

Can I request platonic Akazaya nine headcannons

(Takes place before 20-year time jump)

Kin’emon

He’s goofy

He isn’t even trying, it’s just that he’s a little slow on the uptake

And by that, I mean very

You can be making a joke, and he’ll take it seriously. Then five minutes later start laughing hysterically

Which makes you laugh at how ridiculous he is— and that just leads to you two rolling on the ground. No longer sure about what was funny, but each time the other person laughs, you can’t help but do the same

He’s a perv, so you catch him leering at girls

So of course you tell the rest of the 9, and you guys endlessly tease him

Then he starts yelling about how he’s the leader, and how he can punish you guys

But no one takes him seriously

Even Oden joins in on the fun. That’s when Kin’emon give up trying to save his pride (he ends up making fun of himself)

He tries to act like a big brother, which most of the time doesn’t work. But when it does you wonder where all the wisdom came from

10/10 Expect nothing less from Kin’emon

Denjiro

He’s serious

But in a funny ironic way. Unlike Kin’emon he will get the joke, but not laugh and scold you for not taking work seriously

When he loosens up (aka, when Oden tells him to relax) then he might laugh at your corny jokes, but until then you can expect him to act like a mom

He may not have much of a sense of humor, but he is probably the best when it comes to advice

Tell him your woes, and he’ll have an eight-step plan to fix them

If you do something amazing on accident, he’ll have a newly gained respect for you

That’s because he’s kinda naive

So if you pull an Usopp on him, and start telling grand lies. He’ll believe you

Be careful though, that may mean he’ll give you way more than you can chew when fighting enemies

He will fanboy to you about something cool Oden did

If you don’t get as excited as he does, he will scold you

7/10 too much of a mom

Kikunojo

They are like an older sister figure

Pretty calm

Until you do something stupid, then they’re giving you the worst side-eye. They don’t even have to speak for you to understand what they’re saying

They like to dress you up in clothes that are as feminine as possible

If that’s not your style, deal with it. If it is, then you two can choose outfits for each other

You low-key get creeped out when they put on the Oni mask

Their entire vibe changes, and it’s intimidating

They wouldn’t protect you in a fight, since they trust that you can handle yourself

But if anyone picks on you outside a fight, expect hands to be thrown

I can see you two making food for the others

When Oden isn’t making oden… which is all the time

9/10 the only downside is the shade that is (occasionally) thrown

Kanjuro

You two mess around together

You guys can act out several plays and have tons of fun making the characters as outlandish as possible

He’ll draw something cute for you, and you two get to play with it for a while

If you’re extra hungry, he’ll draw out some lettuce. But when that gives you a stomach ache, he’ll just rub your back

I can see him trying to be a good wingman, but failing (I think the only good wingmen would be Kawamatsu, and Denjiro. But Denjiro would never do it)

He’ll just stick to doing your Kabuki makeup

I think he would be a good hype man

I can also see you two just drinking tea, while the rest of the group is running around, trying to find where Momonosuke ran off to

I can see you two taking a pottery class together (and probably failing)

Anything art related you and Kanjuro like to do together

I can also see you two having dance parties, and (most) of the group joins in

10/10 very fun times

Raizo

Similar to Kin’emon

But the difference is that he tries to impress you with his ninja skills

If you compliment him, he’ll act humble

But he’s beaming with pride

He uses his ninja skills to prank you

This leads to a prank war that no one is safe from

Even Oden wants to join in on the fun. Which ends up with him crushing everyone

Not very good when it comes to emotions, he ends up getting awkward

Unless you’re getting emotion about Oden because he’ll start crying too

He’ll ask you to help him pick up girls

It never works. It ends up with the girl running and screams, and you two bolting and having to explain to Oden why he got a complaint

9/10 it’s all fun and games until Oden joins in

Ashura Doji

Acts kinda like an uncle/older brother

He acts seriously a lot of the time, but when he does let loose he is fun to be around

Why can’t he be like that all the time?

He may not always have the most fun, but he is always reliable

If you have any problems, you can go to talk to him and he’ll listen. And if you ask for advice, then he’ll give the best words of wisdom

And if he thinks it’s appropriate for him to step in, he will

He smells like alcohol though, so if that bothers you he’ll just laugh

I can see him teaching you how to use a sword/fight, or give extra practice

Ashura also treats you like an errand runner

He’ll give you a few coins and ask you to buy him sake, or a snack

If you say no, he’ll get salty

8/10 stop sending people on errands

Inuarashi

Him, Neokmamushi, and Kawamatsu are the best trio

Add you in, and the castle is in shambles

In the best and most fun way, but it is still chaos

It doesn't help when Oden joins in. It only makes things crazier (see the trend?)

Then the rest of the 9 has two stop you four, and Toki scolds Oden

I can see him also giving really good advice

He’s loyal to a fault, like dude calm down. All that person did was look at you, he does not need to whip out his sword

I can also see him following you around (like a dog)

He likes to act as he hates it when you pet him, but he secretly loves it

I think that he would like to read books with you and drinking tea

Can be annoying though, since he’s clingy

9/10 not too much to complain about

Nekomamushi

I think it would take a while for him to warm up to you

Him being a cat, that makes sense

I think that when he does warm up though, you will never be able to get him off of you

You can be laying down, digesting food, and he’ll just start kneading you

If you tell him to stop, he’ll get salty, and leave you for an hour, and then come back and try to sit on your lap

Like stop, you’re way too big to be doing that

He’ll also start to randomly rub your faces together

Like Inuarashi, he will follow you everywhere

That leads to those two into fights (sometimes), but if you pet both of them they’ll shut up

He’d be good at killing bugs. So if you are disgusted/scared of them, then he is the perfect partner in (bug) homicide

If anyone is bothering you, he’ll team up with Inuarashi to beat them up

9/10 there is a lot of similarities between him and Inuarashi

Kawamatsu

He is so cute

If you give him food he will love you forever

Especially eggs, he loves the texture

So if you give him an egg, he’ll thank you and do anything you say for a day

This can be useful if you don’t want to do something yourself

I can see him getting you two matching hats and clothes

Unlike the cat and dog duo, he doesn’t feel the need to be around you all the time. Instead, he lets you come to him

He’s also really good at giving advice and learning an ear

And as I mentioned before, he is one of the best wingmen. If you have your eyes on someone, he will go up to them and start talking about all of your accomplishments. How you saved fifty kids in one day (or something)

With him as a wingman, you are guaranteed at least one date. If you screw it up, that's on you

I also can see him as a very honest person, so when you ask him if you’re idea is dumb (and it is), he’ll tell you— in the kindest way possible

10/10 I need a Kawamatsu in my life

Bonus

Oden

He’s kinda a bully, but in the nicest way possible

He just likes messing with you. I can see him beating you and the rest of the crew up at a board game when you guys were little kids

Like dude, chill

Don’t worry though, if you think he’s being an unintentional bully (since he kinda acts immature), you can just tell his wife, and he’ll stop real quick

But when it comes down to it, you guys are what means the most to him

Aka: If he sees someone or something bothering you, he will demolish it

Unless it's another one of the nine, then he’ll make a family circle to talk it out

He likes it when he sees you and the rest of the group take care of his kids. It’s like seeing his kids, take care of his kids

Then his eyes start stinging and welling up with tears

But if you ask him, he’ll tell you that he is not crying

He’s kinda like a dad, but also like a little brother too

10/10 just stop beating everyone at uno

172 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Note

your dad!levi headcanons made my day. would you happen to have any thoughts about dad!eren?🥺

Unfortunately... I do 🤒🤒 he’d be such a determined but fun dad, like I don’t think he'd be completely lax, but he's not an authoritarian either, but he definitely butts heads with his kids when they get a little older and more rambunctious, and you gotta remind him to be patient with them because... because they're exactly how he was when he was 8 😭😭

He was stupid excited when he found out you were gonna have kids. Like, way more excited than you thought he’d be; you’ve maybe mentioned kids in passing or casually, and he was never negative about the prospect of them, but he had never shown this level of excitement before.

He gets even more excited when you find out you’re having twins. And then reality hits him that you’re having twins. That means two of them. At the same time. Yeah, he might have been excited about one, but two... the whole dad thing really kicks in right there.

He has this period of time where he’s definitely still supporting you and being positive throughout your pregnancy, but then he’ll lay awake at night scared shitless of the fact that he’s gotta raise two kids. He starts freaking out so bad, Mikasa has to slap some sense into him.

He’s losing it one night at her place, completely having a downward spiral of doubt and anxiety, going off about what ifs and how maybe you’d be better with someone else being a dad to them and Mika literally slaps him to shut him up. “You are going to be a dad to those kids, and you’re gonna be a good one, too, Eren. Nobody’s saying you won’t fuck up, but you’ll have help along the way.”

He feels better after that (his cheek hurts like hell for two days tho), and the reassurance from Mikasa and you really does help, and he’s back on track to bouncing off the walls about having kids.

Obsessed with the concept of baby clothes (“Babe, are they really gonna be this tiny??”), but he doesn’t understand the sizing of them. Is there really that big of a difference between four month olds and ten month olds?? He hasn’t grown that much in six months, why would they??

Don’t even get him started on baby shoes, he thinks those are completely ridiculous: “Their toes are gonna be the size of my pupils, why would we put shoes on them?? That’s dumb, we’ll just get those fuzzy socks to keep em warm when they’re cold, I don’t wanna squash their growing toes.”

He cries when he holds them for the first time, because, they are, predictably, tiny. Tinier that he ever could have thought imaginable; he can hold is son and his daughter with one hand each and it’s an incredibly tender and heartwarming and humbling thing to him.

He literally cried more than you throughout the whole delivery, too. He was a complete emotional wreck; happy and jittery one moment, anxious and nervous the next, crying no matter what, and yeah, he might have passed out once or twice, but don’t mention it.

Gives the twins a “house tour” when you take them home from the hospital, narrating it every bit of the way. He holds them both to his chest, slowly parading around your house like, “And this is the kitchen, and this is the fridge where we keep your baby mush. It tastes bad, I tried it, but hopefully you’ll like it.”

Your daughter looks like you, but also like Carla; and your son has damn near all of Eren’s features, and they both got his green eyes (lucky them). Eren is obsessed, and loves playing peek-a-boo with them.

When his paternity leave is up, he figured he’d go back to work first and leave you at home with the kids to give you more time to rest and let your body have more time to adjust after giving birth. Half-way through his first day back, he calls out early under the pretenses of being sick because he misses you guys that much.

He calls out sick for the remainder of the week too, and finally by Friday he sits down with you and is like, “I know we said I would go back to work first but I don’t think I can do it, babe. I wanna stay and hang out with them all day before they’re too big and have to go to school.”

And that, is essentially, how Eren comes to the conclusion that he wants to be a stay at home dad. It doesn’t surprise you, or anyone really, it was only a surprise to himself; but it was a surprise to him that nobody else was surprised.

“What do you guys mean you ‘saw this coming?’” he questions you, Mikasa, and Armin sporadically, “I could have gone back to work if I wanted to!!” To which, you look around at his friends, before Armin finally speaks up, a slight roll to his eyes, “Eren, you can hardly leave them with me or Mikasa for two hours. How did you expect to make it through the work day.”

When they get a bit older, he’s the champ of playing games with them. Acts out the most dramatic “deaths” when he gets shot by a Nerf gun, becomes the most convincing doctor when playing fake hospital, and has learned a pretty damn impressive Mickey Mouse impression to entertain them.

It’s your daughter that turns out to get most of Eren’s... determined personality. She might only be three years old, but she can argue with him as if she graduated from law school, and swears he never wins with her. How could he; it’s like arguing with himself, please they both stomp away and have to cool down after.

They make up pretty quick tho, because Eren hates it when they’re mad in general, much less mad at him or you; and he sulks to you, borderline whining about how he doesn’t want her to hate him. You reassure him that she does not hate him, she’s just... feisty like he is.

It’s her twin brother that consoles and calms her down, because he’s the more tame of the two. By the time Eren’s knocking on the door to their room to talk it out and apologize, she’s already knocked out, leaning up against her brother as they both take a nap. (It’s a sight that could bring him to tears, and he slowly closes the door and goes to cuddle up to you, while he waits for them to finish napping).

He absolutely loves to lift them up, and even has they get bigger, he insists they’ll never be too big for him to hold them. Both he and the twins get a kick out of having them hang off his arms while he spins around in a circle like a little human sprinkler.

Family picnics and/or beach days happen often, and more often than not, it ends up with Eren and the kids coercing (see: pulling) you to the water or to play with them.

By the end of the day, Eren’s laying on the blanket lazily eating a sandwich hich you’d packed earlier, with his son sat criss-cross on his stomach. He teases him by airplaining the sandwich near his mouth, only to take a bite of it himself after, because he adores the betrayed exclaimation of “Daddy! No fair!” Eren’s always sure to give him a bite for real after, and a little kiss on the head to make up for it.

Your daughter sits in your lap, half-asleep, even tho moments before she was oh-so determined to play volleyball against her dad again (“And I’m gonna win, mommy, watch! Daddy’s tall, but I can win!”)

He lets them draw/color/paint on his back. He’ll just lay down on a blanket in the living room and let them go to town. Face painting, too, though that’s for when they’re a bit older; he learns the hard way that a two year old can have pretty rough hands.

The complete and utter disappointment and betrayal in his eyes when he hears your son proclaim that he thinks Jean is “cool.” Eren has to take a lap, he can’t believe his own kin would say some shit like that.

Your daughter loves Mikasa, thinks she’s the absolute best person in the world, and always asks if she can be the one to babysit. They both like Armin, too, but Armin’s gotta stay away from your son for a bit because for whatever reason, his blonde hair is very amusing to him, and the kid’s got a pretty strong grip. (“Stop bullying your Uncle Armin, it’s not his fault he’s blonde.”)

You often catch him doing push ups with either one or both of them on his back, and the kids fucking love it. They’re cheering him on, counting completely out of order about the amount of push-ups he’s done, and clapping every time he comes up again. It becomes his favorite workout.

He swears they’re his best friends and his favorite people in the entire world. He does everything with them: getting the oil changed in his car, going to the store, picking up the mail. He just loves being around them and swears he’s gonna be the best dad for them.

#anonymous #I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT I DONT!!!!#no no but his daughter IS him and he gets so frustrated and you gotta be like eren babe..... you cant boo her she is you #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader

392 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 17

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 17] || the jealous girlfriend card

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [and it's hard to keep my cool // when other bitches tryna get with my dude] streets x doja cat

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___________________________

Thursday, 21 October, 5:08pm

“I just want to know what you were expecting to accomplish with that--”

“I regret coming back to talk to you.” Yoongi laughs with his entire body, bending over at the waist to put his hands on his knees as Y/n approaches him. With a roll of her eyes, she’s handing him the coffee she’d bought him, almost tempted to drink it herself now that she’s seeing how much fun he’s having with her embarrassment.

He’d been waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, a smirk gracing his features when she’d turned the corner and made eye contact with him. It had taken everything in her power not to turn right back around and go upstairs to her room.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, it’s just -- I’ve never seen you be so impulsive. I was hooked.” He leads her out of the castle and through the courtyard, Y/n almost tempted to cover her face in embarrassment at the memory of the events that had occurred here no less than two hours ago.

They cross the grounds, making their way to a small bench down by the lake. They aren’t alone, small groups of friends sitting in the sand and strolling along the shore all around them -- but it’s a private enough spot to talk. Yoongi sits down with a sigh, waiting until Y/n’s seated next to him to scoot in toward her, one arm around her shoulders as he sips at his coffee.

“So? Start talking, Loser. I wanna know everything.” Y/n rolls her eyes, because this feels like an interrogation and she’s not entirely sure she has the answers. When she doesn’t respond, Yoongi looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You know I’m fully aware that you weren’t just acting out of the good of our ‘relationship’, right?” She keeps her eyes trained solely on her lap, picking at non-existent lint on her pants while she thinks.

“I dunno -- I’ve just never really seen you hanging out with other people before.” He smiles, because that was vaguely insulting, but he finds it amusing mostly because it’s true.

“That’s fair… but she wasn’t some random girl, Y/n -- you know that I know her -- that was Selene? We’re not close, but we share most of our classes.” Y/n nods, having seen the girl around Slytherin common room before. She’s also aware that this is someone Yoongi talks to regularly -- not often in person, but Y/n’s seen him texting her frequently enough to remember her name. She doesn’t want to admit that might have something to do with how she’d reacted, but Yoongi’s already seeing it in her face.

“You know we text mostly because we’re both really bad students and we need to share notes a lot?” Y/n nods again, feeling dumber by the second. Yoongi only sighs. “Can you please say something?”

“She’s pretty.” It’s the only thing that comes out, no explanation offered afterward. Yoongi purses his lips to hide his smile, turning to look at her.

“You’re prettier.” She rolls her eyes, hating that she’s unable to stop the corners of her lips from turning up, because Yoongi’s objectively cute when he’s being gross and cheesy.

“I didn’t say that so you could compliment me.”

“But I did, anyway.” They’re quiet for a moment, people-watching all the clusters of students around them as they think of how to continue this conversation. And then Yoongi’s leaning forward, setting his elbows on his knees and staring out at the lake as he passes his coffee cup back and forth in his hands.

“You’re not worried, are you?” It’s quiet, mostly lost in the wind, but she catches just enough to know what he’s really asking -- if she still trusts him and his commitment to her, no matter how fake of a relationship this is.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, Yoongi.” He looks back at her, eyes serious.

“Then?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes before gesturing discreetly out to a group of 7th years not far away. He looks over at them, finding that two of the girls are whispering to each other and glancing in his direction every few seconds. He can’t help but smile, because Y/n is genuinely annoyed by the constant attention he gets, but he hasn’t noticed a thing since they formed this little arrangement. And he always noticed.

Unable to resist teasing Y/n and lightening the mood, he sits up, leaning back against the bench and scooting in until he and Y/n are huddled together. He tilts his head in her direction, whispering conspiratorially to her.

“What’s the problem with a couple girls checking me out? The entire school thinks we’re together, so they know I’m taken.” She leans in similarly, her voice laced with irritation.

“That’s the problem. It’s like everyone’s just watching us and waiting for you to be single again.”

“Okay, but I’m not single, and I don’t plan on being single for a long time -- they’ll get bored of watching eventually.” He reaches out and takes her hand when he says it, pulling it into his lap and threading their fingers together. When he looks, the two girls are still staring, gossiping to each other as they gawk at his and Y/n’s joined hands. He sighs softly, because now he’s understanding why Y/n’s so bothered.

“Alright, it’s a little annoying.” She snorts humorlessly next to him, and he’s turning to her with a smile, trying to calm her. “Any way you can just ignore them?” She nods, reassuring him that she’s fine, even though it’s technically a lie. She’s not going to be able to ignore them, but she can do her best to get used to them.

She feels bad, if she’s honest -- it’s not like it’s Yoongi’s fault that he’s still getting attention even after this month or so of being in a fake relationship with her, and she’s fully aware that he’s not once even glanced at another person. She feels like she’d taken her insecurities out on him today, entirely on impulse, when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey.” Her eyes flick over to him, and she sees that he’s watching her, a knowing smile on his face. “Look at you -- you look so guilty.” His eyes have that teasing glint to them again, but she’s feeling too embarrassed to play along, so she looks away, pouting out at the lake while she tries to figure out how to apologize. It only makes Yoongi more fond.

“I’m sorry I pulled the jealous girlfriend card… you didn’t deserve that.” She doesn’t see Yoongi’s smile growing, too stubborn to meet his eyes again.

“So you were jealous.” Immediately, she’s turning to him, eyes wild.

“No? I was not? That was just the act I was doing.”

“So then what were you feeling?” He’s openly mocking her now, wide smile on his face while he looks at her playfully. She huffs once in annoyance.

“I don’t know -- insecure?” The smile drops from his face at her response -- he hadn’t been expecting something so candid.

“Insecure…?” Y/n turns away, face warming at how seriously he’s looking at her. It’s embarrassing. This conversation is embarrassing.

“Hey.” Yoongi squeezes her hand, and her eyes flick quickly to him and back again. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down like that.” Knowing she’s being unreasonable -- this is Yoongi, after all -- she turns to him, grimacing when she sees the reproach in his eyes.

“It… feels like no one’s taking our ‘relationship’ seriously. That everyone thinks I’m just… your temporary plaything.” Yoongi blinks, shocked. He’d barely even noticed the people staring at him, so the realization that Y/n’s been thinking about this long enough to have come to such an unsettling conclusion… it bothers him.

“Have I… given you a reason to feel temporary?” He knows the answer. He knows she’ll say no. But he can’t help but need the confirmation. He needs to hear it, or else this is going to eat at him.

“No-- Yoongi, no.” He’d been looking away when he asked, but he’s pulled aggressively back to her, so he turns his head to meet her eyes. She’s frowning deeply, upset that he’d even ask. “It’s not you, I swear. You’re perfect.” He can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips at the unexpected compliment. She pushes further, drawing that playful smile out of him again. “I promise it’s not you. Never you.”

She’s so cute, he thinks, because she’s looking at him like she’d do anything to get him to believe her, and that alone eases any anxiety that had been crawling up the back of his neck. He bites at his lip in contemplation, blinking back at her and pursing his lips with amusement when her frown only worsens with his silence.

And then he’s leaning in, pressing his lips to her cheek and staying close to her when he pulls away.

“I don’t like it when you’re focused on other people. Just look at me from now on.” Eyeing him carefully, Y/n nods, but he can tell she still feels guilty, because her pout hasn’t gone away. With a fond smile, he slides his free hand to the back of her neck, pulling her back in.

His kiss is soft and easy, like he’s in no rush to pull away. It makes her heart flutter, because she knows why he’s done it -- she knows he’s still aware of the girls watching them, that he’s trying to ease her mind with a display that’ll solidify to everyone watching that he’s taken. That he’s hers.

When he pulls away, he lingers near her, nudging his lips forward into hers lightly a few more times until he sees the ghost of a smile on her features -- and then he’s planting one more full kiss on her lips, because that’s the one that’ll bring out her smile the most. The one that reaches her eyes and makes her nose crinkle with embarrassment. He likes that one a lot. Only when he sees it does he back off, leaning away to look at her with a fond smile. She nudges him with her elbow, because he’s being really cheesy right now and she hates that it’s so endearing to her.

“You’re an idiot.” He nods easily, humming pleasantly at her assessment.

“Yeah. I am. But, lucky for you, I’m your idiot. No one else’s.” With a roll of her eyes, Y/n’s pulling their joined hands into her lap, playing idly with Yoongi’s fingers while they fall into comfortable silence. And then she’s snickering, thinking back to everything they’d talked about. He hums with interest as he reaches for the coffee he’d set down next to him on the bench some time ago.

“You know, you called me ‘baby’ a lot today. You never do that.” He blinks when she says it, realizing that he had in fact said it a lot while they were texting and on Twitter. With a tilt of his head, he’s looking at her.

“I guess I did… maybe I knew something was up with you. I’m feeling really soft for you today.” Y/n scoffs at him, rolling her eyes. Someone passes by behind them, and she wonders how they must sound when people overhear them — probably a lot like a real couple.

“I feel like… we had this entire conversation like two people actually dating.” Yoongi lifts a brow, remembering how this whole talk had gone as he sips at his drink, now lukewarm. And then he’s chuckling, because she’s not wrong.

“We’re nothing if not convincing.” She smiles, nodding along. They leave it there, only staring out at the lake together, not even realizing that if they’d just continue this conversation, they’d probably end up somewhere dangerous -- in a place where things would change. Or maybe they do realize it, and they’re just not ready to change. Maybe they like it here a little too much, and they’d rather stay a while.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“I actually really liked the jealous girlfriend card.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… It was kinda hot.”

“… I’m leaving.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts texts #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi texts

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katsuflossy · 3 years

Text

BeatBox/Junebugg Challenge

Pairings: Shouto Todoroki x reader, Kastuki Bakugou x reader, Izuku Midoriya x reader, Eijirou Kirishima x reader, Hanta Sero x reader, Denki Kaminari x reader, Hitoshi Shinsou x reader, Tenya Iida x reader.

TW: just the regular obscenities

A/n: IK y’all may not know this trend but it’s funny af so this is the beatbox/junebugg challenge (sound by SpotemGottem) and yeah I hope y’all like my lil hc of the s/o doing it with the boys 💖💖

Taglist: @eharmonythotbot @lilsparkyswife @teddybearrx @angiebug101 @sesshomaruwaifu @blackweebtrash @minajkatsuki @cyans-bliss @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @melanimed @peach-child @zombie-kun @xx-opaqued-xx @sunshineszn @prettybitch-ki @tsukkisukkii

🧊 He has the most aesthetically pleasing tiktok

🧊 There’s slime videos, drawing videos with lofi music in the back, your basic encouraging quotes

🧊 Who needs therapy when you got Shouto’s fyp? /j

🧊 He may be a lil...offbeat in your dance videos but he still tries. Thankfully this was an easy one to learn.

🧊 He out here thinking he got it until you buck at him.

🧊 You think he finna take that shit? He’s gonna buck TF back, on reflex, and scare the fuck out of you.

🧊 Immediately goes into protective boyfriend mode after seeing you flinch hard. You should expect a tight hug; he’s rubbing your back while the whole clip rolling.

🧊 “Love, I’m sorry but why did you move to hit me? I didn’t mean to scare you I’m sorry.”

🧊 “Baby, It’s okay that was the challenge.”

🧊 “Yes, but you looked so scared and it was my fault,” he wraps his arms tighter around you so you’re snuggled safely into his chest.

🧊 Post it with captions of what he said during the video and see all the comments talm bout “⚠️‼️WARNING‼️HAPPY COUPLE⚠️”

💥 It’s known Bakugou knows no fucking challenge on that app.

💥 Except for that buss it challenge. He’s keeping tabs on yo ass.

💥 His fyp is comprised of prisontok (thank mtha for this), mortalkombat edits, and recommendations for shoujo mangas DC comics.

💥 He already knows the drill, you teach him the dance, he does it with no care, you post it.

💥 This one is fairly easy… until you attempt to press him

💥 He runs up on you, chest puffed up, arms tense and hanging straight. That intimidation stance.

💥 “What you tryna do? We can tussle right now wassup.” Now you gotta deal with him pressing you as you finish the dance.

💥 When he realizes you’re laughing, he just sucks his teeth before lightly pushing you.

💥 “Why am I even dating you?”

💥 The biggest tsundere simp on the earth.

💥 He loves you so much but you always test him.

🥦 Umm All Might edits runs his fyp.

🥦 The occasional analytic reports on recent and past villain attacks are there too.

🥦 Only gets a smidge of alt tiktok so it ain’t that boring.

🥦 Doesn’t know the dance either but he’ll do it just for you <3

🥦 Never expects you to fucking buck at him tho.

🥦 Mans flinch mad hard omg.

🥦 He removes his hands from his face when he hears you laugh and continue the dance.

🥦 Now he stopped, looking at you with the saddest puppy eyes.

🥦 “Why did you flinch at me baby?” He’s just standing in the frame all pouty and shit.

🥦 “Prince(ss), please don’t do that again. You honestly scared me.” He walks off in the middle of the video, his fluffy duck house slippers squeaking with every step.

🥦 Go say you’re sorry right now 🧍🏽‍♀️

⛑ Crimson Riot edits duhh

⛑ But it’s a mixture of Bakugou’s and Todoroki’s with a sprinkle of popular dances down his stream.

⛑ Has Ski Mask edits as well

⛑ Still, he doesn’t know the dance at all

⛑ Baby boy is so sweet cause the second you buck at him...he just plants one straight on your lips thinking you went in for a kiss.

⛑ Shocked, bamboozled, frozen, he really kissed you as you tried to buck him?

⛑ Mans continued the dance like you’re not wide-mouthed behind him.

⛑ “Bro, I know you did not just kiss me when I tried to buck you.” The whole badman vibes just dissipate from the air, he smiling at you like it was cool.

⛑ “Babe,” he whined. “I thought you just wanted a smooch.”

⛑ Seeing you mad, he just grabs you up and launches more kisses on your face.

⛑ You tried to look hard for the video only for him to soften you up quickly.

⛑ At least you got cuddles after.

🩹 His tiktok is filled with funny ass videos

🩹 They always come up on his fyp before going famous. Hence why his comments be having 30k likes (they funny as well)

🩹 Has the best cooking tutorials in his favorites that he makes to impress you.

🩹 Already knows the dance so you don’t need to teach him.

🩹 Y’all both tried to press each other with giant smiles on your faces before starting a round of play fighting.

🩹 “Can’t fuck with you no mo.” He turns to you before continuing the dance.

🩹 Alternating lyrics and shii...being the baddest couple to step in the game.

🩹 He wraps his arms around you before throwing peace signs to the camera at the end.

🩹 The coolest boyfriend award goes to this king.

⚡️ How...how is he in every part of tiktok

⚡️ Straightok, alt tiktok, beantok, frogtok. You describe to him the video and he either knows it or he can find it in seconds.

⚡️ If Pandora’s Box opened and escaped into somebody’s account, it would most likely be Denki’s.

⚡️ He did the challenge with Bakugou before but it ended in flames...but he won’t decline to do it wit you

⚡️ Why y’all buck each other and ended up hitting your foreheads?

⚡️ Spent the rest of the video rubbing your forehead while Denki laughing.

⚡️ “Why tf your shit so hard? Built like damn cement” you glared at him as he laughed even harder.

⚡️ “I shock my own brain everyday. I think my skull hardened as a result”

⚡️ The next day, you’re seen walking around with your forehead on swole.

⚡️ On the bright side, you get forehead kisses every 5 minutes.

🔮 There ain’t no Eraserhead edits so he makes them himself.

🔮 All his fyp got some led light show going on. Every. Fucking. Video.

🔮 But they’re all good vibes, great music, and nice ass comment section

🔮 Occasional gaming videos come up because he follows some twitch streamers on there

🔮 Doesn’t know the beatbox/junebugg challenge. You woke him out of bed to do it.

🔮 You’re vibing in the video before you buck at him.

🔮 He didn’t budge. He stopped doing the dance altogether to stand up and just glare you down.

🔮 He out here in his cow print moo moo pants and you do this shit to him?

🔮 Now you’re nervous, flickering your eyes to him as you continued the video dancing.

🔮 The minute the sound ends he stalks off back to bed. Using all the sheets to cover him.

🔮 Have fun sleeping in the cold. Just kidding, he can’t sleep without cuddling you but just remember he is mad.

👓 ...you think he knows tiktok?

👓 Thought it was slang for the actual clock app.

👓 Got it to see what the hype was about but doesn’t even bother to make an actual account.

👓 It’s really just the generic shit on there.

👓 So he’s excited to do a dance with you even though he only knows the tinman.

👓 Umm...failed to do the actual dance. It gives 60-year-old white man on a tropical cruise.

👓 And then you buck at him.

👓 All movements stop. He justs staring at you, his glasses hiding his actual eyes.

👓 The air around you feels real cold. Your premonition telling you to electric slide out of the room but nah, you continue to dance. The man, who tried to commit murder at the age of 16, just staring at you stoned face.

👓 The second he opened his mouth, you DIPPED out of the room, leaving your phone running and Iida just standing confused.

👓 Turns out, he wasn’t trying to end your bloodline, he was just confused if that was a dance step he missed.

705 notes · View notes

imaslutforremusandsirius · 3 years

Note

Its my 3rd request already? Well shit. Could you do a dom Sirius and James and sub Remus and fem reader.. Punishment. In a classroom.. For not doing their homework- And just like... Put EVERY SINGLE ONE of the kinks that you have- When did I turn into a kinky bitch😫

Why are you being bad?

Ft. James‘ and Sirius‘ big dick™️

Read the username and knew the request was gonna be good, Enjoy!! <3

Warning: 18+

---

You had been busy all afternoon yesterday, planning some prefect stuff with Remus. Both of you had been so engrossed in the planning, that the potions essay had completely slipped your mind.

„Fuck they’re gonna be mad. This is the third time we forgot!“ Remus panicked.

„Shit!“ you swore „I knew that we had forgotten something!“

„I don’t want to be punished“ Remus whined „I barely healed from last time. My ass fucking hurts!“

You sat down on the bed and buried your face in your palms, silently thinking of an excuse.

„What if“ you hesitated „What if we just lie and say we did do it. And – and we say that some Slytherins attacked us from behind, vanishing the essays?“

Remus gave you a hopeful look. „You think that’ll work?“

You bit your lip. „It has to otherwise we’re fucked mate.“

Remus snorted. „Don’t call me mate, I’ve fucked you before.“

You laughed at that and took his hand in your own. „Right, lets go.“

---

Remus and you were in your seats, behind Sirius and James. The two doms had been in a sour mood all morning, something about Quidditch being cancelled. Remus‘ hand was squeezing your thigh hard and your leg was bouncing a fucking mile a minute.

„What if they know?“ Remus said.

„If you keep acting like a scared bitch of course they’ll know Rem!“ You whisper-yelled.

„Shut the fuck up, your leg is about to go into cardiac arrest!“ he hissed back.

You instantly stopped bouncing your leg and instead took his hand to calm yourself down. Remus gave you a shaky smile, gripping tight.

„We’ll be fine“ you said, not believing anything you said. Remus just nodded.

„Where are your essays?“ The Professor asked and it took you both a second to realize that he was talking to you.

You chose to answer. „Um- we don’t have it Sir. There have been some difficulties.“

The moment you said that the essay wasn’t done, James turned around to give you a hard stare, jaw already clenching. Sirius let out a small chuckle and nodded to himself, before he turned slowly in his seat to glare at Remus. Your fellow sub nearly crushed your hand.

„We can explain!“ Remus blurted out towards the teacher, but his eyes were trained on Sirius as he spoke. „Could we talk after class, Sir?“ The question was actually directed to Sirius and James.

Sirius just gave him a tight smile and turned around. James didn’t though, he kept staring at you until the Professor told him to turn back to his book.

„Alright, stay after class then.“

---

You told your teacher the same lie you wanted to tell your angry doms and nearly cried with relief when he said that you could hand it in the next day. The moment you two were alone in the classroom, James and Sirius came bursting through the door and threw their bags in the corner. James locked and soundproofed the room, before he stood next to Sirius, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Sirius took a breath to calm himself and cracked his neck. It was dead silent.

“We know you lied.”

Remus nearly fainted next to you and you chewed your lip anxiously.

“We didn’t lie, Sir.” Your voice was somehow steady and you kept eye contact, shivering a little.

James lost his cool and Sirius had to hold him back from slamming you against the nearest surface. Believe it or not, Sirius was the cold and detached type during punishments, while James lost control of his rage.

“I’ll give you one last chance to tell the truth.” Sirius said, voice still calm.

This time Remus steeled himself and responded. “We didn’t lie, Sir.”

“Alright” Sirius said, a little anger laced his voice now and he turned to the other dom “James, they’re yours.”

Not needing to be told twice, James ripped his belt and tie off and barked out a “On your knees, head down.”

You two dropped to your knees and bowed your heads. James took the belt and tied it around Remus‘ hands, pulling so taunt that the boy winced. Moving towards you he bound yours with the tie and stood up.

“This isn’t gonna be a fun punishment like you’re used to.” Sirius said as he made himself comfortable on the chair, crossing his arms, legs spread wide. He had the regal confidence of a king, looking down at you nonchalantly. “We will stay here as long as it takes for you to confess.”

James took over. “Forgetting your essays after you told us that it’s already done is one thing, but to look at us and lie twice?!” James voice was getting louder with every word and you both trembled “That’s blatant disrespect. We’ve been to lentient lately.”

He took off his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt, rolling up the sleeves. He crouched infront of Remus and grabbed his chin. Remus raised his head but kept his eyes casted on James’ chest out of respect.

“I know that she can be a brat” James mused and gripped harder, bruises already forming on Remus’ chin “but you should have known better baby.”

Remus sniffled and you saw his eyes gloss over, not because James was hurting him, but because of the scolding. Remus hated being bad.

“And you” James yelled, voice hardening when it came to you, knowing he could treat you a little rougher that the werewolf “just can‘t stay out of trouble huh? Do you like making us angry?”

Heaven knows why but James’ tone irked you, sometimes punishments made you feisty. It’s not like everything was your fault. Yes it had been your idea, but you never forced Remus to play along.

For now you decided to keep your mouth shut, not wanting to make it worse for Remus, you loved him too much for that. So you took the blame. Sighing, you nodded, albeit with attitude. James noticed and took off his ring.

Slap.

Your head whipped to the side and you bit your lip from making any noise, but you couldn’t help the little hiss that escaped you.

“Lets try that again” Sirius said this time, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. You glared at him from under your lashes, forcing out a “Yes. I understand.”

Slap.

You bit your lip harder and James noticed and slapped you for the third time. You heard Remus‘ distressed sounds and reigned yourself in. Bowing your head you let out a meek, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Yes Daddy, what?” James sneered.

“Yes Daddy, I understand that it is my fault and I will take my punishment like a good girl.”

“Atta girl” Sirius laughed “Stop trying to play tough.”

The biting undertone made you want to get up and slap them back, but you just clenched your jaw and swallowed your anger.

James stood before you two with his legs spread and hands behind his back. He was oozing dominance and the powerful stance turned you on and scared you at the same time. Remus was affected as well, not daring to move a single inch.

„We have decided to let you do the work“ James grinned menacingly „Skirt off and bend over the desk.“

You stood and flipped your skirt up, struggling a little with your bound wrists.

„God, can you do anything right?“ James groaned and flipped the skirt up, pinching your skin. He couldn’t help it, you just made him lose his mind.

As James was taking off your restrains Sirius took something out of his pocket. You felt him press the toy on your clit and whined a little, pushing back against him.

„Stay still greedy girl“ Sirius muttered and pressed the toy inside of your wet cunt, pushing it in so deep that it pressed against your sweet spot.

Your hands were free and you stood up straight again, gasping when the vibrator turned on. You knees buckled and you had to steady yourself on the desk behind you.

The two doms watched you, biting their lips, veins in their arms flexing as the balled their fists. Sirius and James just wanted to fuck you so bad, but they had a point to make.

„Look at her“ Sirius teased „can‘t even hold herself up.“

James chuckled, licking his lips as he watched you throw your head back and moan loudly.

„Well she is a slut Pads, m‘not surprised.“

You looked at them again, wincing when the vibrations got worse and your legs trembled.

„Don‘t you dare come little girl“ James warned „you‘re already in enough trouble. C‘mon get up, time to pay attention to Remus.“

„Yes, Daddy“ you whimpered, voice breaking.

„Up, boy“ Sirius commanded and Remus scrambled up, head still bowed. He quickly unbuttoned Remus‘ pants and pulled them down, forcing him to bend over the teachers desk by his neck and held him there.

„We have a little game for you.“ Sirius drawled. „Our darling girl is going to punish you with the belt Remmy.“

Remus whimpered softly as Sirius dragged his palms across his sore ass, the skin still red from another punishment. „Hush, I‘m not done. Your Daddy is going to put your favorite vibrator in your tight litte hole.“

Remus was panting now, the way Sirius was whispering in his ear made him leak precum on the table. „If your cum, she doesn‘t get to.“ James finished, giving you a mocking smile when you gaped at them.

„But Remus can‘t hold back for shit-“

James had your head bend backwards in a flash, your neck cracking with the sudden movement as you were forced to look up at the ceiling.

„I‘m done with your fucking games“ James roared at you and your eyes glossed over because of the painful tilt of your head.

„Daddy-“ Remus tried but Sirius spanked him hard.

„I‘m sorry! I‘m sorry! Please, I‘ll be good“ you wailed as James bit down hard on your shoulder, sharp canines drawing little pearls of blood.

„If I hear one more complaint out of your whore mouth we won‘t touch you for an entire month. You won‘t get our attention at all. Do. You. Understand?“

„Yes!“ you sobbed „Yes! Please don‘t!“

He let you go and you knelt down in front of the dom, leaning your head against his thigh as you cried for forgiveness.

„I didn‘t m-mean to“ you hiccuped and James stroked you head lightly. „Prove that you‘re a good girl and your daddies will forgive you.“

Yes, you would prove it. You would make them proud. That was all the motivation you needed and you got up, wiping you tears as you made your way over to Remus. Taking his face in your hands you gave him a slow kiss, whispering a secret „I‘m sorry“ and bend him over the table again.

Remus grit his teeth when he felt the first punishing slap of Sirius‘ belt on his already sore ass. He wasn‘t weak by all means, he is a goddamn werewolf, it was the pleasure he was worried about. See, Remus had a thing for pain.

Both of your vibrators came to life at the same time and you let out simultaneous moans. You nearly dropped the belt and your knees buckled, Remus forhead banged against the table as he groaned from the back of his throat.

„Keep going“ Sirius commanded, the doms watching you closely.

You started to spank Remus again, the other boy was a whimpering mess, sweat dripping down his back.

„Ah please“ he begged, legs clenching to hold his release „please, enough!“

„Five more Rem“ you pleaded „please hold it, five more then you‘re done!“ Youe own voice cracked with the threat of an upcoming orgasm, the vibrations so strong you felt them on your clit.

„I can‘t!“ Remus cried, words garbled. „Ah- no!“

The belt had directly hit his swollen balls from behind and Remus came hard, his cum coating the teachers desk.

„Fuck“ you whined when James arm wrapped around you waist and pulled you back to his chest. His other hand slid inside of your clenching hole and pulled out the toy, taking away your privilege to cum.

„Please“ You were a mess, dripping tears and shaky legs.

James directed you to sit on Sirius lap, the latter cooed and kissed your tears away.

„Hush baby, you know Daddy hates crying. I‘m gonna give you a choice now“ Sirius said, a dangerous glint in his pretty eyes.

„Either we punish Remmy again and you get to cum“ you heard the boy plead in the background, not able to handle another punishment „or we don‘t and you won‘t get cummies. What will it be baby?“

The doms knew that they weren‘t being fair. They were far to agitated to play nice, angry because of the cancelled game and your disobedience. They wanted to be merciless.

Through the fog of your despair you glanced back to make sure Remus was alright. Seeing him all bruised and teary made your heart ache. Fuck, you thought, fuck you Remus Lupin. Fuck you and your cute face.

You decide to not cum and spare him.

„Don‘t punish him“ you said with a heavy heart „I won‘t cum.“

Sirius gave you a pleased smile and kissed you hard. James dragged Remus with him, sitting down and made Remus kneel on the ground at his feet.

„Good choice puppy“ Sirius said, stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs „only good girls put others needs before their own.“

Youwere confused as you stared at your dom. „Daddy?“

„Cum whenever you like“ Sirius said and you felt him push inside of you with a hard thrust.

You gasped, holding onto his shoulders as he pushed up inside of your hot pussy, groaning at the feeling of being so deep inside of you.

„You gonna tell Daddy the truth now?“ Sirius pressed, wanting to hear you confess.

„I‘m sorry Daddy!“ Your voice was high pitched and it was difficult to breathe with the force behind his thrusts.

„Try again“ Sirius moaned, pushing you down to meet his thrusts and you shrieked when his cock hit your sweet spot brutally.

„We lied!“ you wailed „We‘re sorry please!“

They had been torturing your body and mind the entire afternoon and you just wanted to cum. You just wanted to sink into the haze of your release.

„Good girl“, Sirius growled before his hand came down to stroke your clit swiftly. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you screwed your eyes shut, cumming hard around him. Sirius‘ balls tightened at the sight and he came inside of you, teeth biting over the same spot as James did.

„God puppy“ Sirius praised, his voice trembling „take my cum fuck yes-“

You heard James let out a shout and saw him cum in Remus‘ mouth, forcing him down so deep that you couldn‘t make out his face from the side.

„Swallow or m‘not lettin‘ you up boy.“

Remus‘ choked as he swallowed eagerly, pulling away to show James his empty mouth. James gave his cheek light taps as he murmured a „Good bitch“

Grabbing him under his arms James pulled Remus up, cuddling him against his chest. You sat there for a while, enjoying the manly smell of your doms and their hands tracing your bodies.

„What have you learned?“ James voice still had an edge to it, but it wasn‘t as aggressive anymore.

„We won‘t lie again.“ Remus and you said in unison.

„And?“ Sirius pressed.

„We will tell you when we can‘t finish our essays on time.“ You said, hiding your face in his soft neck.

„We forgive you.“ James said now, reaching over to coax your face out of its hiding. „You did good.“

James‘ praises were always comforting because the dom was a lot harder to impress that Sirius. His voice was completely relaxed now and you saw Remus already fast asleep on his chest.

Maybe lying wasn‘t the best idea after all.

#sirius x remus x james x you #hp marauders #marauders era x reader #marauders smut #sirius x you #remus x you #james x you #smut

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crispy-ghee · 3 years

Note

Hello! Firstly I just wanna say I love your work, both your own personal drawings and stories, as well as the collaboration pieces with Isei. I was just wondering what your process was for your building of your Yautja clans?? I wanted to try my hand at making my own, so I was wondering what pointers you may have.

Hi! Thanks so much for the kind words, it actually makes me really happy that anyone is enjoying the stuff I enjoy making. Worldbuilding can be a lot of fun, and awesome that you're gonna try your hand at it!

I have a lot of thoughts on worldbuilding, and to be honest my approach varies here and there depending on what I'm making or writing, but I'll see if I can't gather my general thoughts into something more succinct instead of going off on a long ramble haha

STARTING INFO

When you're worldbuilding for a pre-existing IP, it's good to keep in mind the stuff you already know about the race/species. This seems really obvious, and imo you can mess around in and out of canon if you want bc it's your clan and you should have fun first and foremost, but it's something to consider.

(But also keep in mind that this isn't something you necessarily have to think about right away, it can come later in your process, but I'm just mentioning it here.)

With Yautja, there's the physical aspects that make them distinct (mandibles, crest, reptilian/mammalian, tendrils, claws, tall on average, tend towards warmer climates, strong, etc) and what we've seen of them culturally (glory/trophy hunters, honor code, matriarchal, etc etc). The cool thing though is that when you're coming up with a hook for your clan, you can either choose to follow these rules, or you could find something interesting in subverting them.

What if it's a clan of smaller yautja? What if these live in the cold? What if their clan doesn't give a shit about hunting? etc etc

Speaking about Hooks...

The Hook is just sort of a jumping off point where you can start building your clan out of. It doesn't necessarily have to be a hook for the audience, and it might even change or be discarded as you go along writing, but it's always good to have a place to start.

Hooks can honestly be anything and inspired from anywhere. I'm going to be honest that most of the time I don't really go searching for hooks, they're moments of inspiration that kickstart stuff. They're usually what causes the worldbuilding.

A lot of that (and a lot of worldbuilding, actually) is actually input. Being curious and learning things, consuming things, etc etc. Expanding your visual/mental library. It's not something that i do purposefully, necessarily. It comes from stuff I've read about, movies and documentaries I've watched, some tweet I saw, a picture on my dashboard, a wikipedia article I stumbled into somehow, a story a friend told, so on and so forth.

That being said, you can totally find a hook if you just ask yourself the right questions.

But the things that can be hooks, like I said, can vary greatly. It could be an idea you had out of nowhere, a novel question, a theme you want to explore, a cool image you saw, a costume you wanna try out, anything! For example:

Maybe you already have a character that you designed that you want to build the clan around. The character can totally be the hook. What are things about the character that might hint at what society they grew up in? Do they have a specific attitude? Quirk? Is there something about their appearance? The clothes they wear, the way their tendrils look, their coloration?

Maybe you saw a location that was really neat! What if Yautja lived in a place like that?

This clan is stealthy!

This clan likes animals!

This clan makes art that looks like _______.

This clan engages in a lot of warfare.

I liked this idea touched upon in a predator comic I read, can i expand on that?

What if a Yautja did Basejumping?

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...

Brainstorming! Ask lots of Questions!

I ask a lot of "why" and "how" after I figure out my hook (or hookS). It's an easy way to get stuff kickstarted.

How do they do that? Why do they do that? Is it ritual? Is it something else? Is it based on their history? On their environment? On their Lore? On their social structure?

And then just keep asking why after you answer that question, and then you'll have a pretty good foundation that you can maybe mess with or discard or change completely or use for an even better idea.

Like...lemme use the "Yautja Basejumper" as an example.

Why would this Yautja base-jump? Is it for a practical reason, like it helps them hunt a specific animal? Is it for a ritual reason? Is it for the thrill? Is it to prove themselves?

How do they do it? Do they use high tech to do it, or is it low tech? If it's low tech, what materials do they make their parachutes or gliders out of? In human base-jumping, what tools do they use, and how can I translate that into Yautja maybe? Or is it a completely different approach?

Do they basejump off of mountains? Is it something they do because they live in the mountains? Or is it maybe something they have to travel to a specific place to go do? What is this place? Why do they go there? Is it for a spiritual reason? Coming of age? Is the place itself significant? Does this have something to do with their history, or a legend that they have?

If base jumping is important, how does this affect what they find attractive or cool? Do they like really tenacious yautja? Is being more aerodynamic a boon? Would the wear anything specific for the act, bits of decoration? Is there an animal they want to look like?

So let's say just going through those questions, and asking myself why and how and other questions from that intial hook and then the answers I gave. Here's a (very very very rough) potential initial thought:

This Yautja clan base-jumps as a coming-of-age ritual. They live at the foot of a tall mountain, and young hunters climb to the top to prove their courage and tenacity. Part of the ritual is making your own glider--and if your glider doesn't hold up because you rushed it, then you get really hurt or die, and that's your own fucking fault. They're doing it to mimic large flying animals that once-upon-a-time roosted on that mountain but don't exist anymore, which had cultural/mythical significance to them. Maybe their ancestors used to ride them. This clan are able to fight in flight, unlike many other Yautja.

And then you can build off of that or change it, do research and look stuff up related to it to see if you can add more stuff, keep asking more questions about the things you decided on, etc.

Forever and ever and ever.............

Anyway, that's my worldbuilding approach, haha. It's basically "learn a lot of stuff, ask a lot of questions."

I don't know if that was helpful at all, but there ya go!

#Wolrdbuilding #predator #yautja #ask #advice #answer

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caelimonoceros · 3 years

Text

moonlight — childe

pairing: childe x gn!reader

wc: 1.9k

tags: fluff, it’s just fluff, established relationship, i guess a lil light angst if you squint, childe lovable dork number one

notes: of course my first piece is about childe my one and only…my beloved…please come give me some constellations <3 pls enjoy! i’m planning on writing some more similar pieces with some other characters but i really wanted to post this one now tehe…interacts/reblogs appreciated!

Just as the moon guides the tides in and out of the shore, she pulls you to him—Childe, quiet in his solitude and unsuspectingly calm on the beach.

You find him on the beach just north of Liyue Harbor, on a long stretch of tan sand with a sheet spread out under him. Uneven rocks pin down the corners of the makeshift sand-protection, and you can make out the shape of the Harbinger’s jacket and boots settled next to him.

Upon hearing your soft footsteps crunching on the sand, Childe perks up. The slight curve of his posture, betraying a weeks-old exhaustion, straightens into a bright smile and a cheery wave, the welcoming facade he throws around to unsuspecting strangers who won’t ever make the plunge into the depths of his heart. Blue eyes, blue like the ocean and the cosmos and the frost on your skin after too many hours spent trekking around Dragonspine, pierce the dim night, only lit up by the small lantern next to him and the faint blue glow of his vision. They give his skin an unearthly glow, the warm light of the lantern bringing out copper highlights in his hair while the blue of his vision drives deep shadows into the far side of his face.

The night is peaceful in its simplicity, watched by the careful eyes of the moon and her starry companions. Childe’s smile brightens as you settle next to him, kicking off your own shoes and stretching out across the oversized blanket. Your own bag, full of warm midnight snacks and soft blankets, hits the ground as you do, and rolls with a soft thud.

“You made it,” Childe inches closer, quick to put his hand over yours and fold your fingers together. You let him, settling your joined hands over one of your thighs and sitting to lean against his shoulder.

“Yea. The slimes didn’t drench me.” You huff, eyes pointed out towards the water; then slowly drifting over to him.

“Well, since the slimes didn’t get to you, I was thinking…” Childe rubs a gloved thumb over the back of your hand, directing your attention. The leather is rough against your skin, worn equally from working a weapon and signing bank documents.

“Your ideas are always awful. I wanna know,” you lean into him.

“Midnight swim!” He says cheerfully, pointing out towards the water with his free hand. “The weather has been so warm lately that I’m sure the water will be as well. Plus, it’s just the two of us! Wouldn't that be nice?” Oh, you don’t want to crush his dreams and his eager, giddy smile, but you are not going in that water. No thanks, you are perfectly content to stay warm and dry on your big, spread out blanket and watch Childe make a shivering fool of himself before he comes back and soaks his half of the blanket.

“I’m not going in the water, especially not in my clothes, Childe. It’s cold out.” Childe blinks at you, as if he doesn’t understand the problem for a moment before sighing, as if he knew this would be your answer.

“Fine. But I’m going to go in, and I'm sure you’ll join me in no less than five minutes!” He says it so confidently, living up to his namesake so easily that it makes you swallow down laughter. The tall Fatui makes sure to blow you a dramatic kiss from the water’s edge, before he turns his back entirely. Really, you are completely content to watch him enjoy himself in the shallows. It’s refreshing to see him so light on his feet and in his words.

The soft moonlight illuminates his back, drawing out the folds of his dark shirt. The metal accessories around his belt glimmer in the cool light as well, twinkling like stars at you, but you’re almost mesmerized as you chase the patterns of moonlight across his ever-moving form. The water is so clear, reflecting him and the mountains situated behind you, every trace of silvery-white light that dances down an uneven slope or a curving tree branch rippling amongst your lover’s own reflection.

“You know, the water’s still warm!” Childe calls after a few minutes of peace. He’s rolled his pants up to just under his knees, but they’re still being soaked by waves of water. From your warm, dry, position on the shore you’re inclined to protest, but a shimmer in cerulean eyes not brought on by the moon or stars cuts your words before they can begin. He begins making his way over to you, sloshing through the water and then up onto the sand.

“C’mon, just stick your feet in. I promise I won’t let you drown.” You roll your eyes at his proposition; the way he walks so arrogantly over to you and crouches ever so slightly, extending a hand to you. He’s tracked wet sand onto your clean, safe haven, and his wet pants are dripping seawater on your bare shins, but you still hold your tongue all the same.

“Please? It’ll be fun. You don’t have to, but I think you’d enjoy it.” The Fatui offers his hand with a little bit of a wave this time, and you give in to his easy smile and comforting presence. It’s hard not to, hard to resist the way he sweeps you into the ocean, the same way he’s already swept you away entirely like a pebble torn from shore.

The water is still warm, but it’s still much cooler than your skin and you shudder as you’re exposed to it much too quickly. Childe’s grip on your hand is too tight, his excitement adorably obvious as you come to a halt some ten feet into the water, where it rises just above your hips.

“See? It’s not bad at all.” Childe leans down, his face mere inches from yours, and sticks his tongue out playfully. You resist the urge to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, instead flicking his forehead gently, just enough for him to recoil as if you’ve shot him and dramatically clasp a hand over his head.

“It’s not bad at all,” you mimic, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the ginger’s over-the-top reaction. Cute, he’s so cute sometimes and you doubt he truly knows it, cute when he drops something from his chopsticks or shoots an arrow into the ground or trips over a loose rock when he’s pretending not to stare at you. Cute when his guard is down, when he’s not a battle-hardened warrior and traces of the myth you know to be named Ajax are allowed through the ever-present cracks in his facade. Just as you’re lost in thought, a spray of salty water meets your face, and you close your eyes and cross an arm over your forehead quickly.

“That was uncalled for!” You complain, but it trails off into laughter as you return the splash back at Childe.

“Hey, your aim’s not half bad!” He’s even quicker to fire back, and soon the water around you both churns enough to drown out your shared laughter. Your clumsy feet, weighed down by your movements kick up sand and cloud the water, and you brush grit from your face and hair after a particularly well-aimed splash flattens it down your back.

“That’s practically an insult, coming from you.”

“My aim isn’t that bad!” Fake offense riddles his tone, one hand placed over his poor, scandalized heart.

“Will you be less arrogant if I tell you I’m enjoying myself?” You dodge most of another splash, but even when you’re complaining you find your jaw beginning to ache from a wide smile.

“So much for staying out of the water,” Childe taunts, gesturing to the soaking mess you’ve become. He’s no better, water dripping down his face in rivulets, blinking the salt away from his eyes instinctively and pushing the wet hair back from his view.

“This is your fault, you know,” you tell him, but the complaint holds little water. He lets you splash him again, a full wave that hits against his chest, and you take another step closer to him—just close enough for him to hook a gangly leg around your own and pull you down, spinning gracefully and catching you just as your hair begins to fan out in the water. One arm holds securely under the middle of your back, while the other settles on your hip.

“You just can’t stay away from me, I know.” The smug confidence he wears is equally endearing and enraging. You begin to counter him with an asshole—, one hand moving up to poke his cheek, but before you can make contact he completely retracts his arms and you submerge with a shriek. When you come up moments later, coughing and spluttering in surprise, Childe is laughing so hard that he’s bent over with his hands on his knees. He’s completely unsuspecting, the perfect target for you to grab the back of his head and shove his face into the water, too.

Except, Childe topples over his own long legs, the two of you falling down messily and his head bumping against your knee as you land flat on your butt. He makes a face, rubbing his cheeks as he kneels. Despite how you joke around, it’s clear that the bump actually hurt, and you can’t help but feel a little pang of guilt at the genuine pain he displayed. Holding his head, Childe moves closer, until he’s easily looming over you with your hands braced against the sand and the water level just under your chin.

“You’re so difficult,” he sighs, your foreheads pressed together. The feeling of salt grinding between your skin is just on the edge of unpleasant, but nowhere near enough to make you back away. “Nearly gave me a black eye there.”

“Aren’t we both?” You smile in response, cupping a cool, wet hand over the cheek he’d hit on your leg. His eyes flutter closed, and he breathes out a sigh against your nose as tension visibly drains from his shoulders. It’s like the final traces of his daily life have fallen away with just your touch—gone is the hedonistic Childe, the calculating Tartaglia, leaving only the scattered fragments of a Snezhnayan boy far from home. Even at peace, there’s a longing in the way he looks at you—eyes wide as if in disbelief, unable to hold your gaze with all of his defenses stripped down.

“Yea. We are,” he concedes—so quiet that you barely make out the words over the sound of the wind and the soft movements of water. Difficult, and he’s right: nothing involving a Fatui Harbinger will ever be easy.

“I think you’re well worth the trouble,” you confess, letting your eyes meet his. They don’t shy away this time, there’s a blue fire blazing somewhere in the back of his soul that warms your cheeks and has your free hand clenching the sand underneath. Certainly well worth the trouble, for all of the moments he looks at you like this—holding the intensity of a thousand suns and all of the love and guidance offered by the moon, an entire universe dancing in his usually lifeless eyes.

And the trouble is most worth it when Ajax—not Childe, not Tartaglia, but Ajax, closes the miniscule gap and kisses you under the witness of the moon—you can be at ease.

“I am?” He teases, a whisper against your lips. You roll your eyes before the hand on his cheek slips to the back of his head, and you pull him close once more.

#viv writes #genshin x reader #genshin x reader fluff #genshin #childe #childe x reader #gn!reader #fluff #genshin fluff #short fic

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness.

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in.

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t.

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess?

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good.

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that.

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time.

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious.

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes.

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety?

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore.

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time.

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives.

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect.

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable.

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly.

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion.

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone.

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in.

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair.

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least.

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does.

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries.

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you.

He needs this.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #yandere akaashi keiji #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #tw blood #tw violence #tw murder #slasher-ish vibes #tw dub con #just a little #not super proof read because it's 3:30 in the morning

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pascalslittlebrat · 3 years

Text

Drunk Dial

Rating: T

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 4223

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, tiny bit of language, other than that this is just some soft shit with a bit of angst

Summary: Javier left you broken years ago. Now he’s back and after a little too many drinks with friends, you can’t help the draw to call him and let the liquid courage try to give him a piece of your mind.

A/N: big thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog for Writer’s Wednesday, I saw the picture last night and immediately started writing this. Forgive any mistakes I wrote this around 1am and honestly fell asleep at some point. May this make up for the more deep angst I’ve put out😂 Big thanks to @mothandpidgeon for keeping me from overthinking! Enjoy me once again trying to write a drabble and ending up with a One Shot and me being slightly self indulgent in wanting someone to keep my ass grounded during hard shit.

Taglist Masterlist

“Hello?” the familiar deep voice answered hoarsely on the other line. God, how many years had it been since you had heard that grumpy tone?

Your heart races at the sound of Javier’s voice and you couldn’t help but be thankful for the liquid courage flowing through your veins or you’d be kicking yourself for obviously waking him up or even calling him in the first place. “Javiiiii,” you giggle leaning against the phone booth, the coolness of the glass feeling good against your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re awake.”

“It’s two in the morning I wasn-Y/N?! Are you drunk?” Javier asked and you can hear the frown in his tone. He sits up in his bed the moment he recognizes your voice, of all the calls he expected tonight, he wasn’t expecting one from you. Not after what he did.

You shrug as if he could see you, playing with the cord, “I’m not drunkk, I’m just tipsy and it’s your fault. I had 5 shots because I couldn’t get your stupid big head out of mind.” You pout, your emotions starting to shift, the hurt mixing into your tone. You didn’t drink often for this reason, you always felt so cheery and happy at first but then sadness seemed to always creep up once the drinks started to fade out of your system.

Javier gulps at your answer, he runs a hands over his eyes, wiping away any exhaustion he was feeling. He had been known you long enough to know that tipsy meant you were drunk and you being drunk meant you would definitely need someone soon. “Where are you? Are you at home?” he asks as he gets up, holding the handset between his cheek and shoulder as he grabs his pants off the floor pulling them over his naked form.

“Umm…” you purse your lips looking around, trying to remember which bar your friends had dragged you to for the night. They had forced a girls night on you to keep you from doing exactly what you were doing now, looking for Javier Peña. What had started as just a margaritas at your favorite Tex-Mex restaurant had turned into bar hopping over Laredo.

You mumble a fuck as you turn to face the bar and almost run into the glass of the booth. Javi silently curses whoever had decided to let you drink as much as you had without keeping an eye on you. “Lonestar Bruisers,” you mumble out as you look at the flashing bar sign, watching as the words shift. “What a weird name...I got a bruise though, I hit my knee on the dummy bar stool.” You then gasp the touch of sadness you had been feeling slipping into the emotion of shock, clutching the receiver closer as if you had just discovered some secret and didn’t want anyone to hear, “Javiii! That’s why they call it Lonestar Bruisers, because I got a bruise!”

Javier tries not to smile, you were definitely always something when you were drunk. So giggly and smiley, you always lit up the room even more when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. But he also knew the edge he had heard to your tone earlier, the one that he had learned signaled the courage of the alcohol starting to slip and soon you’d be feeling something worse if someone didn’t get you home and in bed. He always hated to see the way your mind would get the best of you. “Mariposa, it’s Lonestar Brewers. I’m right down the road, are you alone? Tell me you’re not alone,” he asks, pulling a shirt over his head, hoping the image of you standing in a phone booth alone in the middle of the night was wrong.

You almost drop the phone out of your hand when you hear him use his old nickname for you. You feel the tears well in your eyes, the memory of years of friendship and love running through your head, the reason you had even called Javier in the first place, “Y-You can’t call me that. I don’t need you to come, you didn’t even tell me you were back.” Your voice cracks at the last sentence, the old wounds from years passed, open up, the night that caused this all. “And I’m not alone, Kelli and Rebecca and…I think her name is Cassie...I don’t know but I’m not alone… Well I’m alone outside cause duh I’m in a phonebooth but they’re inside, I bet they have shots...I need more shots.”

Javier sighs, he knew he had been wrong to not contact you. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to come back quietly, everyone in town knew everything. So of course word would get around to you that he was back, he had just hoped he had prepared enough to be the one to go see you. He had planned to see you, to discuss the night he threw everything to shit, he just hadn’t found the courage, or the will, not after he was still processing the reason he had even been sent back to Laredo. “Marip-Y/N, I need you to go inside. You shouldn’t be out there alone, someone could hurt you,” Javi says gently, trying to mask his worry, he had seen too many women hurt over the past few years.

He might not have been in Colombia but that didn’t mean that there weren't bastards around waiting for a chance to take advantage of an innocent woman. “No more shots, ask for water, I’m on my way. If you all have been drinking, you’re not getting in the car with any of those girls,” he grits out, just as he knew you, he knew your friend group and Kelli hadn’t always been the best influence on you. He could feel the old irritation towards your oldest friend already flaring knowing she wasn’t watching over you.

“You can’t tell me what to do Javier,” you snap at him as you look out the booth wiping your eyes. It was a dark night, the only glow of light came from the bar’s sign and the street lamps across the street of North Central Park, fog filled the outside air, almost as thick as the Texas humidity. You frowned, hating the shiver that ran up your spine, maybe he was right to go inside, “I’m going to hang up now, I shouldn’t have called you. It’s almost out of time, I’m out of coins, and I just don’t want to talk to you meanie pants.”

“Y/N just sit st-” Javi starts before the line cuts off. He groans running his hands over his face before grabbing his keys and knowing you were definitely going to be a joy when he picked you up.

******

He expected more of a scene from you when he had walked into the bar. You were indeed nursing another glass of alcohol and you had told the bartender how he was the meanie head that you had been complaining about. Javier had rolled his eyes and told you it was time to go home. You had glared at him and made sure to down the rest of your drink out of spite before telling him you wouldn’t leave without your friends.

He dealt with the glares that each one gave him, raising his hand to stop Kelli from chewing him out and refrained from telling her off himself too. You were his sole focus and he wasn’t going to waste any time arguing with someone he never saw eye to eye with in the first place.

You definitely had way too many drinks and she should have known better than to let you get this far gone. For your sake, he would take care of both you and them. He knew that would be the only way you’d let him drag you off anyways, if you knew your friends would be okay. He had called a cab and gave them money to pay for it, before throwing your arm over his shoulder and helping you out as you tried and failed to keep the world from wobbling underneath you.

You argued with him that you could go home with your friends the whole way out of the bar. He silenced you with his narrowed eyes. There was no way he wouldn’t make sure you got straight to bed and not to another place where they might hand you more drinks or be too inebriated to make sure you didn’t get sick or help you if your anxiety starts to hit. He wouldn’t fail you, not in this at least. He always took care of you then and nothing could stop him from doing it now. It didn’t make up for what he did, but it was the least he could do for you after years of leaving you alone, hurt.

“I don’t want to go home yettt! I’m having fun,” you whine as Javi tries to help you into his truck, catching you as you stumble. You’re glaring at him and pouting, arms crossed over your chest as he gets you settled into the seat and buckling you in, “I’m not a child Javier.”

Javier can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at your words, especially with just how much of a child you looked like in that moment. He knew if you had been standing outside of the truck still, you’d stomp your foot. “Could have fooled me, mariposa,” he gestures to your crossed arms and you stick the tongue out at him as he closes the door.

He decides he’ll just let you crash in his bed, the ranch was closer than your home and he could still feel how exhausted he was. He hadn’t exactly been sleeping well since he had arrived back in Laredo.

He practically jumps out of his skin when he feels your hand on his arm. He hadn’t expected your touch, at least not out of your own free will. “Javi, you’re not holding my hand, you always held my hand,” you pout out, as you take his hand in yours.

Javi hates it, almost finds it cruel actually,how much your hand still fits perfectly in his hand. How soft and small it was under his calloused and larger one. He hates how much he has missed it, how much he enjoys it. He had always been a man that depended on touch, you had always told him just a single touch from him could tell you how he felt. You had always been good at reading him, knowing that sometimes the simplest touch was just what he needed to keep him grounded to what was in front of him and not spiraling into whatever chaos was going through his head.

He felt the ache in his heart as he remembered the way you would smile at him and call out each touch. “That’s your ‘I love you’ touch.” “That’s your ‘it’s been a bad day’ touch’” “That’s your ‘I just felt like grabbing you ass because I can’ touch” You were silent next to him and he wondered if maybe you were dozing off already, smiling a bit to himself at the old memories. He could only hope that maybe this would be a time you could avoid your sad side effects of drinking.

He gave your hand a squeeze as he pulled into the ranch. “That’s your ‘I’ve needed this, I missed you’ touch” you breathed out and Javier froze, he glanced over at you. You weren’t wrong, as always. You were staring at him intently, gazing at him in the dark, trying to read him. You gave him a small smile and he felt his heart drop at how broken it looked, lacking the complete joy it used to.

He parks in front of the guest house where he stayed, glad that he wouldn’t have to worry about waking Chucho. “Why did you bring me here?” you ask, frowning and pulling your hand from his. Javier misses it the moment you do, hating how he could feel the hurt resonating off of you now. He had caused this.

“We were closer to the ranch. I don’t think you’d make it up the stairs to your apartment either,” he say softly and watches as you just nod before he gets out of the truck to help you out. He opens your door and takes your hand, putting the other on your hip to keep you steady as he helps you down.

The world still feels like it’s spinning and you grab Javi’s shoulders as you lay your head on his chest. He still smells the same as he had years before, woodsy, musk, minty, and something else that was just pure Javier that you could never put your finger on. You can’t help but laugh in his chest as another realization hits you, “You don’t smell like cigarettes.”

“I’m trying the nicotine gum to stop” Javier answers, wrapping his arms around you, he knew at any moment you could push him away again, so he wanted to enjoy the feeling of you holding him close. He couldn’t deny the need he had to be held after everything that had gone on, to just feel the comfort of someone’s arms around him and to be lucky enough to be having you doing the honors? It took everything in him to break the dam of emotions he had going on. The emotions of everything in Colombia with losing Carrillo, chasing after Escobar, working with Los Pepes to still holding onto everything that had happened the night he left and hurt you came to head and it was overwhelming how much he had been choking down.

He holds you tighter, clinging onto you, to keep centered. He focuses on the sense of you pressed against him, the sweet scent of you mixed with alcohol, the way you were holding him just as tight. Then he notices the now wetness against his stomach and his heart clenches realizing you were now softly crying against him, “Mariposa, what’s wrong?”

You hated it, hated that you were now crying against him. How could he still cause you such an easy comfort for you even after he had left you behind with no explanation? It wasn’t fair that after all these years, just his scent and being in his arms still made you feel the safest and at home. You look up at him, tears flowing, moving your hands to grasp his shirt, “Why did you leave Javi? H-how could you just leave me like that?”

Javier gulped,a hand coming back to rub the back of his neck. He wanted to feel like he had been prepared for this conversation but he wasn’t. He breathes out a sigh, wiping your tears off gently with his thumbs, he presses a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s not talk about that right now, let’s get you to bed, we’ll talk tomorrow when you’re not drunk.”

You shake your head, frowning at him. You tug on his shirt to let him know you weren’t going anywhere. You needed the answers, you had spent too long needing them. “No, I want to know now Javi. I deserve to know...I woke up and you were gone...then I have to have Chucho tell me that you had left? That my boyfriend had joined the DEA and left me a note, a-a fucking note Javi! You literally broke up with me through a note!”

Javi’s teeth clench, he always hated seeing you cry, he always tried to do everything to make sure he was never the cause of your tears. Yet he knew it, knew the pain he caused you when he left, the tears you had shed, and seeing it now hurt him, hurt him more than leaving you did. He holds you close to him, rubbing you back as you sob, “I...Let’s get you inside and I’ll answer you.”

You look at him through blurred vision, gently releasing the hold you had on his shirt, leaving it wrinkled from your touch. “You promise?” you ask weakly and Javier feels the pull in his heart, a line formed between his brows and he nodded at you before taking your hand in his and helping you inside.

He sat you down on his couch, helping you out of your shoes, before leaving you to grab you a glass of water. When he returned to your hand on your head, eyes closed. “Drink some water, we need to get you hydrated,” he tells you softly. You open your eyes and look at him, he could tell the sobering up was starting to happen and he hated that he was going to have to have this conversation with you like this. He sits down next to you and hands you the glass of water.

You mumble a thank you to him as you drink before laying your head on his shoulder, shifting closer to him. Javier sighs as he wraps an arm around you, rubbing circles on you shoulder, hoping you’ll doze off. Luck, however, was no on his side, “Javi...why did you leave..”

He sucks in a breath, you were looking up at him expectantly, eyes puffy and red from your tears. “You deserved better than me…” he answers out, admitting what had gone through his head the moment he had signed up to join the DEA.

“Bullshit Javi, I loved you, we were happy...at least I thought… I thought we were,” you trail off in the last part, you had spent years wondering if you had made everything up in you head.

Javier tilted your head up to look at him, he could sense it, you starting to get in your head. “I was happy with you baby, so fucking happy. But I was holding you back, do you think you would have finished your pharmacy degree if I had stayed? You were always so worried about me on the job, I felt like I wasn’t getting anything done here, I wasn’t helping enough people. You remember me complaining about how routine the job felt. I was making you worry and I just...I felt like if I left, then you would be better off. No worrying something would happen to me, you could focus on school, on bettering yourself. I also had found the letter, you got into the best pharmacy school in Texas, and your sister told me you were waiting to see if you got something closer to here because you didn’t want to leave me...One of the guys mentioned the DEA hiring in Austin and I honestly didn’t think they’d accept me but they did.”

You can feel the tears streaming down your face again as you listen to his words. Javi fights back his own, as he remembers how much he beat himself for making decisions without you. “I tried to figure out how to tell you. I just didn’t know how. I was a coward Y/N, here I was trying to go out and do something bigger, yet I couldn’t tell my girl how I was feeling like I was holding her back. I knew there was more danger in joining, how could I worry you more? If I left then I figured you’d leave, go to Houston, become the best pharmacist this damn state has ever seen,” his mouth quirks at the last part and you can’t help the chuckle that comes out. Javier had always been your number one fan in everything you did, as you had always been his.

His face becomes serious again, “I tried to figure out how to tell you...but I knew you’d either try to go with me. I couldn’t let you hold yourself back for me, to change your plans for me. I couldn’t keep you from reaching your dreams… that night...it was different… holding you the last time, I barely slept. I wanted to wake you and tell you everything but I couldn’t find the words. Pops, lectured me, I’m surprised he even gave you the note, he was so angry with me. He thought I had told you, then for me to just leave you that note. I think he was ready to beat my ass. He was disappointed in me for the longest time, could barely forgive me for doing that to you…”

You reach out to touch Javi’s cheek, he closes his eyes leaning into your touch. Every word he said was sobering you up more and more. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m really fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. I should have been more honest, I was an idiot. I just selfishly decided for myself and left, I shouldn’t have left you like that, you always treated me right, you always watched out for me, you always took care of me. We grew up together and you never got tired of my shit….I just…I thought it was the right thing to do.” He chuckles humorlessly, “You did become the best pharmacist though. Pops made sure to brag about how great you were doing in pharmacy school. He made sure to tell me about you, to keep me updated and to make me feel bad that I wasn’t here to see you doing as good as I knew you’d do. He called me a dumbass for not being here to see you graduate or to watch you open your own pharmacy. I’m proud of you, I was so proud of you, just know even away I was so proud of you every step of the way even though I know I shattered you first.”

You roll your eyes at Javier, you wanted to punch him in his pretty face if you were being honest with yourself. “You’re such a big dummy,” you scoff out rolling your eyes. Your head was starting to pound but you were thankful that your mind felt numbed still, so you could give him a piece of your mind. “You’re lucky I’ve had all these years to accept you leaving. It hasn’t stopped the ache or pain, obviously.” You bitterly think about the amount of drinks you had just tonight. “Because I would punch you right now but of course, you just left because Javier decided to be selfishly unselfish. You should have talked to me Javier, I never felt like you were holding me back. Yes, I worried about you, but so did all the other sheriff wives and girlfriends. I didn’t tell you about Houston, not just because I didn’t want to leave you, but because I was feeling unsure of myself and being a pharmacist too. I didn’t want to disappoint you if I decided to change careers! I would have been so proud of you being accepted, would I have gone with you? Probably. But it would have been MY choice Javier. I would have never tried to stop you from going and even if I didn’t go with you, we could have made it work. I loved you, I loved you so much and you just left me a note saying you were sorry and it was for the best that you left. It felt anything but the best!”

Javier flinches at your words and you sigh before placing both hands on his cheeks making him look at you, “How could someone as intelligent as you be such an idiot?”

You watch as his mouth twitches under your gaze, “Hell if I know, I seem to get in my head too much, don’t I?”

You give him a look letting him know that you can’t argue with him on that and he reaches out to caress your cheek. “I lost myself then, just like I lost myself now,” he mumbles out bitterly and you press your forehead against his, taking him in as you close your eyes.

“Sometimes we have to lose ourselves to find ourselves again,” you whisper out as you meet his eyes.

Javier takes you in, your gentle gaze, the soft touch of your hand going through his hair. It’s the first time since he had touched down in Laredo that he felt at home. “I still love you,” he says before he can stop himself. He had never stopped thinking about you and now with you in front of him, making him feel the calmest he has in years, he knows it’s true.

You freeze and he wants to apologize, tell you that you don’t have to say anything. But you smile at him as a tear falls from your right eye, “I still love you too, big meanie head.”

Javier smiles and it feels the most real it has in days, the first time he feels like he’s not forcing one out. It makes your heart soar seeing it, how you had missed seeing his bright smile.

You don’t know what the future holds, knowing the whispers around town that he would be leaving again soon. But in that moment, wrapped in his arms, his lips softly pressing against yours for the first time in years, it was just you and him and nothing else mattered.

permanent tags: @sleepylunarwolf @greeneyedblondie44

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#Javier Peña x Reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x y/n #Javier Peña Fanfic #javier peña #my writing #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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