#me? consuming things i like to a unhealthy level? sounds about right
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Me: *has several books on my TBR*
Also me: *starts yet another re-read of Atelier, Bloom St. by @cuddlebugsirius*
#yes. another re-read#britt's book nook#me? consuming things i like to a unhealthy level? sounds about right#jess tag
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Orympost I dare you. Consider me the sick fuck egging you on
me reading this ask
ok so. i love Orym so much and I truly have too many thoughts abt him to be contained in one post so let's just start with the trauma, the thing that defines Orym not just as a character but also discursively. this discussion often feels very surface level, not much more than a simple acknowledgment that Orym is sad bc dead family. which is a shame, bc the thing that really strikes me about Orym's grief is not simply that he has it but how deeply it has shaped him, consumed him. the death of his family often gets used as a reason no one should ever challenge him on anything ever, which is an incredibly unproductive and unhealthy way to view trauma, and also obscures the much more compelling and poignant truth; Orym is absolutely not handling his trauma productively or healthily. i have made a meme to further express my feelings on the matter.
so, i remember quite well the first time i watched Orym's resurrection in episode 34.
when he sees Will in the afterlife and says, the most sincere he's ever sounded (and he is so sincere all the time), "I really wish I could stay." and in that moment i realized; oh, Orym would rather be dead right now. Orym would rather be dead right now, because it would mean he got to be with Will and Derrig.
another moment i think about a lot: when he's talking with Uther, a member of the Gorgynei, in episode 42, about naming his sword and about their times traveling, and Uther says: "it's nice to have a home finally, after traveling for a long time. i hope you and your friends can find a home, or return to the ones you have."
and Orym says: "I'll think of a name [for his sword]."
it's a fun kind of synergy that Orym is a dex based character who is also, emotionally, so slippery and avoidant. always deflecting. he's defined by his steadfastness in battle and his stubborn refusal to change outside of it. it's notable how stagnant Orym felt, as a character, up until the Issylra arc. very intentionally so; he's likely been in a state of paralysis for much of the last 6 years. he really wishes he could stay. i don't think he's accepted that he can't.
or that there's reasons not to: of all of the many Orym moments i think about all of the time, the one i think about by far the most is his conversation with the Wildmother, all the way back in EXU, when she tells him, so lovingly:
"There is so much I would have you see."
that, more than anything, is the line that defines Orym to me. you can see glimpses of it, in his love for the Hells, his amazement when he's dancing with the spirits or watching Ashton blow 200 gold gambling; on the other hand, in his refusal to really engage with the gods debate (as stated by Liam himself) or his continued discomfit with some of his friend's oddities. there is so much world, so much beauty, so much love still out there for Orym to experience, if he would simply let himself. revenge is nice, i hope he gets it, but it will simply never be enough. it will not give him the capacity to love fully again, and if he gets the revenge and not the love he will end up empty, hallowed out, leading a life always wishing he could be somewhere else.
right now he's regressing, reduced down to nothing but that painful wound, abandoning even so much of his kindness and reason. the hells can help, and they should and they will, because they have so much love to give. but Orym will have to open himself up to it, to them, first. i really hope he does!!
#orym of the air ashari#critical role#cr#he is so sad!! i don't know if you all understand how sad this little man is!!!#orym cr#okay i hope this all flows decently i can simply not look at it any more. downloading bg3 as we speak#long post /#wavebiders#thank you for this excuse to throw a small section of my many many feelings abt orym into the ether!!#crposting
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Okay I've been meaning to write this post for a while because. Those last few episodes have fucking layers mannnn
So let me start by saying that House and Cuddy's relationship was, sadly, doomed from the very beginning. That's not to say that it didn't have any chance of working out, ever, because they clearly had chemistry and cared about each other. But the circumstances of them getting together, the fact that it was the reason House decided to stay clean makes for an absolutely awful start. It fucks up the dynamic of your relationship - it demands one person to stay for the sake of ensuring the other doesn't relapse, and no one should ever be put under this kind of pressure. Secondly, it was always conditional - which is actually not as bad as it sounds. House is a person who loves pushing boundaries, and Cuddy is a woman who knows her own worth. She, Stacy and even Dominika aren't pushovers - with them, there are lines that House knows he can't cross. Lines that, once crossed, will make them decide it's not worth it and leave him.
And here's where Wilson comes in, because he's exactly this kind of pushover. During one of the therapy sessions House straight up admits that's why he's still his friend - because he can say anything to him and he won't leave. Wilson's affection for him is truly unconditional, and as unhealthy it may be, it's the only kind of relationship that really works for House.
See, he is fundamentally a selfish person. I am not saying that he doesn't have his moments of kindness, but on the most basic level he prioritizes his own needs above everyone else's. He's right when he says he doesn't sacrifice himself. In fact he's incapable of, or perhaps too stubborn to, sacrifice even the smallest amount of his own comfort for the other person, or to simply make the situation easier - a quality that's crucial for, y'know. Existing within society, not to mention maintaining a romantic relationship. He follows his own curiosities with no regard for anything, he will intentionally make his own life harder just to get what he wants, to end up being right. Even in his affection and care for other people he's always centering himself - when Cuddy is hospitalized, he panics. But his fear doesn't motivate him to support her in this trying time, it consumes him to the point he can't even bring himself to visit her. It doesn't matter that she's the one who's sick, or even that her tumor is benign. The only thing that matters is that he is scared.
Someone might say: "well, yeah, but underneath all of this he's actually full of self-hate". And I agree! Except that fact only contributes to his selfishness. You know how anxiety disorders make you worry about what other people think of you to the point you're not actually focusing on them, but only on yourself and your worst qualities? That's exactly what's happening here. In fact, his overall cynicism and pessimism require that of him. If he believes himself a horrible person, and one incapable of change at that, and also believes in the inherent cruelty of the universe and ultimate egoism of all people, of course he ends up unable to connect with anyone. Like when he ends up pushing Stacy away, because he decides it's not even worth it to give them a chance at happiness - making it all about himself again. He thinks he's unlovable, so he acts like a dick. Because he acts like a dick, no one wants to deal with him. This confirms his assumption that he's unlovable, and the cycle continues.
And the reason these last episodes are so gut-wrenching is because all of that gets completely turned on its head. You see, Wilson and his friendship is House's point of reference, the one stable thing in his life, one thing he can be sure of. He's very cautious about depending on anything and anyone else, and yet in Wilson he puts complete trust. During his time in prison, he admits to one of the men there that he's "peepless", because nobody has ever visited him. Yet once he comes back, he's fully ready to fall into the same routine with Wilson, almost as if the possibility of their friendship ending has never crossed his mind. Because he can do unimaginably stupid and cruel things, he can make everyone hate him, but no matter what he does he will not lose Wilson.
Except that when Wilson gets cancer, he has to face the reality that no matter what he does...he will lose him. And the rug is pulled from under his feet.
Once again, we see House repeat the usual pattern of being so scared of losing people that he panics and abandons them at the time they need him the most. He's so terrified of having to not only witness Wilson's death, but keep on living without him, that he gives in to his most self-destructive tendencies. He takes the cowardly way out, because the alternative would require him to get over himself, to get over his fear and insecurities, to endure it for the sake of being there for someone else. He can't bring himself to, he decides it's just not worth the pain.
Except..in those last moments, when he's debating with himself if he should go through with it, he ends up breaking the goddamn pattern. He goes against his self-centeredness, his stagnancy, the features that are the most central to his whole character and opens himself up to change. House! Who has long accepted that people, and especially him, will never change! He sacrifices not only his comfort, not only his core beliefs, but the very thing he lives for - the puzzle, or more specifically, medicine, just to spend these last few months with his best friend. It doesn't matter that it hurts, it doesn't matter that House has lost all hope and doesn't see the point of it all, he will bear it. Because Wilson needs him..and that's enough.
#DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND#once again proving how normal I am about them#that's why no matter how sad it makes me I can't bring myself to imagine that house decides to keep living after wilson dies#because wilson is quite literally the only thing that prevents house from killing himself in the first place#he proclaims himself dead to wilson#I like how one person put it... that he's 'living on Wilson's borrowed time'#oh my god I just realized something.#doesn't it make House's relationship with cuddy a parallel to the ending.#he stays clean just to be with cuddy and he stays alive just to be with wilson. oh my god#someone sedate me#house md#hilson#< I guess#h#moje
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Saiyuki Reload Blast Drama CD 1 – Track 1: At the gym
https://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm33443983
Summary: The Ikkou went to a gym. Sanzo tried an exercise for toning the waist. Hakkai received the shock of his life. Satisfactory endings for Goku and (surprise, surprise) Gojyo.
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Goku: Wow, it’s incredibly roomy in here!
Gojyo: Oh, this place is sure fancy. I wish I were staying in such a hotel with a pretty lady instead of a bunch of guys....
Goku: What’s that thing on the ceiling? Er, ci–cin– cinderella?
Sanzo: It’s a chandelier.
Gojyo: Just keep your mouth shut already. Otherwise, you’ll only be revealing your idiocy.
Goku: What did you just say to me?!
Hakkai: The three of you! Please don’t make a racket in the public.
Gojyo: The only one making a racket is the monkey. But, I can understand him getting hyped up in such a fancy place.
Sanzo: You’re on the same level as the monkey.
Goku: This is the only lodging in this town, isn’t it?
Hakkai: That is correct. They appear to accept credit cards here, but the problem is whether they have rooms available or not.
Goku: I wonder if they have an awesome room like the ones I saw in the magazines.
Sanzo: No matter how spacious it is, I don’t want to stay in the same room with you guys.
Goku: You share the room with us fairly often.
(They approach the reception.)
Hakkai: Excuse me, do you have rooms available for four today?
Receptionist: You require accommodation for four persons, is that right? What sort of rooms would you prefer?
Hakkai: If possible, we’d like four single rooms.
Receptionist: I’m sorry, but all of our single rooms are booked for today. How about double or twin rooms?
Sanzo: Twin rooms, naturally.
Hakkai: I guess we’ll go for twin rooms.
Gojyo: I absolutely refuse to room with the monkey. His sleep-talking is annoying. “It’s meat buns! It’s noodles! It’s fried rice!” – He’s preoccupied with food even in his dreams.
Goku: Gojyo snores so loudly he sounds like a hippo. The room would be filled with his snores and it’d be awfully noisy.
Gojyo: Who are you calling a hippo, sleep-talking monkey?
Goku: Wanna fight, hippo-snore kappa?
Sanzo: You guys are noisy! (hits Gojyo and Goku with the paper fan)
Gojyo and Goku: It hurts!
Receptionist: Er–
Hakkai: I’m sorry. I’ll quieten them right away. Two twin rooms, please.
Receptionist: Ce–certainly! (hands over a brochure) Our hotel has an in-house gym. Would you like to use it?
Hakkai (takes the brochure): Eh, a gym?
Gojyo: You even have such a thing here? This hotel is amazing!
Sanzo: It’s irrelevant for us.
Receptionist: There is an ongoing promotion at the moment, so the fees for all packages are at half-price.
Hakkai: Then, we’ll take the one-hour package.
Gojyo and Sanzo: Oi!
Hakkai: Ah, we’ll pay for that together with the charges for the rooms with credit card.
Sanzo: Don’t just decide as you please!
Goku: Hey, what’s a gym? Is it something like jam?
Hakkai: It’s a facility for training the body.
Gojyo: Youkai attack us all the time, so we’re already doing physical exercises fighting against them anyway. There’s no need for us to work out at a gym now, is there?
Hakkai: There is.
Gojyo and Goku: Hah?
Hakkai: Do you guys realize how unhealthy our lifestyle is? We camp out continuously and eat nothing but canned and instant food for days on end. Whenever we arrive in a town, we eat every single item on the menu. Such behaviors exert a considerable burden on the digestive system. Moreover, on the topic of overeating, it is obvious that unlike Goku, the three of us aren’t getting sufficient exercise to burn off the extra calories we consume. Even though our current metabolism rates are still high enough to tolerate this situation, eventually those extra calories will turn into fat accumulated in our bodies.
Goku: What’s the matter, Hakkai?
Hakkai: On top of our unhealthy eating habits, we drink and the two of you also smoke. There’s no need for me to explain the harmful effects of alcohol and cigarettes on our health. Furthermore, Sanzo and Gojyo, based on the amount of cigarettes you consume, the two of you can be categorized as heavy smokers. The more you smoke, the higher the risk of damaging your health. Also, alcoholic drinks are not calorie-free either. We’ll get fat as if we continue to eat and drink as we do.
Gojyo: Er... Hakkai?
Hakkai: To make matters worse, we’re leading a disorderly life. That, together with our unhealthy lifestyle, inflicts excessive stress on our bodies. From now on, as we get closer to India, our journey will probably turn harsher. With our current condition, will we successfully arrive at our destination? Shouldn’t we make use of this chance to improve our health and physical stamina? There’s no guarantee that we’ll come across a facility like the gym provided by this hotel again for the rest of our journey. I think we should avail ourselves of the opportunity to use the gym. How about it?
Gojyo: A–all right.
Goku: I–If Hakkai went so far as to say that....
Sanzo: Tch. Do as you guys like. Count me out.
Receptionist: Would it be a one-hour package for three then?
Hakkai: Sanzo, haven’t you been concerned about your waistline lately? You’re having trouble buttoning up your jeans, aren’t you?
(Sanzo gasps.)
Gojyo: A guy’s middle-aged spread wreaks havoc on his waistline.
Goku: Is Sanzo already middle-aged?
Sanzo: Hey! Who are you calling middle-aged?
Hakkai: Well, what will you do, Sanzo?
Sanzo (clicks his tongue): Oi!
Receptionist: Y–yes?
Sanzo (slams the credit card on the counter): Make it a one-hour package for four.
Receptionist: Certainly!
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Hakkai: Just what one would expect from a gym with the latest installations! This facility is certainly well-equipped.
Goku: Awesome! There are all sorts of machines here!
Gojyo: Don’t make a racket. Calm down!
Hakkai: They have treadmills, exercise bikes and weight training equipment which are a staple of gyms, but a facility that also offers balance balls, bouldering walls and even pools is hard to come by!
Sanzo: Oi, which of these are for waist-toning?
Hakkai: Just as I thought, you’re worried about your waistline, aren’t you? If you want to try out something easy, a balance ball would be a good start. Aside from toning your waist, you’ll be able to train all of the muscles in your whole body.
Sanzo: All right! So, what do I do with this ball?
Goku: Something like this? (leaps) Ta-da! You balance on it!
Gojyo: Are you putting on a street performance?
Hakkai: Unfortunately, that’s not the correct way to use a balance ball, Goku. Instead of standing on it, you should sit on it like this.
Goku: Ah, is that so?
(He, Sanzo and Gojyo sit on their respective balls.)
Hakkai: Once you’ve sat on the ball, please try lifting your feet off the floor.
Gojyo: Ooooh! I sure can feel it working my stomach muscles.
Goku: Eh? I feel nothing though.
Sanzo: Hmmph. Just by lifting the feet, what would that– (groans as he struggles to maintain his position)
Gojyo: Sanzo-sama seems to be trembling all over.
Hakkai: You must make good use of all of the muscles in your whole body in order to secure your balance on the ball. This way, you’ll be able to train even muscles that you don’t normally use.
Sanzo (huffs and puffs): This is ridiculous.
Goku: Is Sanzo okay? Should I grab him? Or hold the ball in place?
Gojyo: This has already turned into an elderly care rehabilitation session.
Sanzo: You’re annoying, shitty kappa!
Gojyo: In your current condition, whatever you say doesn’t scare me.
Hakkai: Please do your best, Sanzo. Once you get used to it, you’ll be able to instinctively keep your balance.
Goku: Hey, look at me! It’s incredibly bouncy! Awesome!
Gojyo: The monkey is bouncing up and down on the ball and moving along with it....
Hakkai: Well, Goku is an exception to the rule.
Sanzo: Tch.
Hakkai: But, sitting on the balance ball is good for the body, you know. Don’t you get the feeling that your inner muscles are being trained?
Goku: In-ner mu-scles?
Hakkai: These are the muscles located deep in the body close to the bones. It’s said that these muscles are hard to train with common exercises.
Sanzo (gasps for breath): I’m taking a break!
Gojyo: Isn’t it a bit too soon for break?
Hakkai: The ball Sanzo’s sitting on is filled to bursting with air. Perhaps that’s why it’s all the tougher for him to sit on it.
Sanzo: You should’ve told me that sooner! Oi, Goku, exchange balls with me.
Goku: Okay!
Sanzo: All right!
Goku: Ah, he fell again.
Gojyo: In the end, he’s just hopeless with the ball.
Sanzo: This is impossible!
Hakkai (chuckles): Next, let’s go for the bouldering walls.
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Gojyo: What’s with this wall? I’m experiencing an incredible déjà vu.
Goku: Déjà vu?
Sanzo: We already deal with the natural stuff at a regular basis, so why must we climb a wall in a gym?
Hakkai: Bouldering is all the craze among young people these days, you know.
Gojyo: Climbing a rock cliff is the latest big craze? In other words, does this mean that without realizing it, we’ve been enjoying a state-of-the-art sport?
Goku: Really? That’s awesome!
Sanzo: No, it’s not!
Hakkai: Well, be that as it may, these bouldering walls are man-made. Naturally, in the unlikely event that we take a tumble while climbing them, we’ll still be all right thanks to the safety harnesses we’re wearing. It’s totally different from the climbing we regularly do.
Goku: The wall over there has a different color! It looks fun! (rushes over)
Gojyo: Oi! Really....
(An ominous sound effect is heard.)
Gojyo: What’s this? It’s a sharp slope for sure!**
Hakkai: This looks like a course for advanced climbers. The height and the steepness are twice those of the wall just now. We should go for the wall for beginners instead.
Goku: Hurry up and come after me!
Hakkai: Ah, he’s climbing it already.
Sanzo: What’s that runt of a monkey doing?
Goku: If you don’t hurry up and start to climb, you’ll get stuck like the group over there!
Gojyo: Over there?
Woman 1: Hang on, Suzuki-san! Just a bit more!
Woman 2 (groans with exertion): Is this really a beginner’s course?
Gojyo: Ah... the path is already blocked. By Suzuki-san.
Hakkai: It’s impossible to have Suzuki-san and co make way for us, isn't it? Let’s attempt the course for advanced climbers, then.
Gojyo: I’ve had enough of rock-climbing....
Goku: This is surprisingly easy!
Sanzo: Don't put me in the same class as you.
Goku: Let’s compete to get to the top first! Ready, go!
Gojyo: That’s unfair!
Hakkai: It’s no contest. I have the feeling that the victory will obviously go to Goku.
(Sanzo struggles audibly as he clambers up the wall.)
Hakkai: Are you okay, Sanzo? You’ve already run out of breath....
Gojyo: San-chan thoroughly overused all of his muscles with the balance ball just now. He’s probably exhausted already.
(Sanzo huffs and puffs and grunts loudly with effort.)
Gojyo: Look at him. He’s totally worn-out, isn’t he? Ah!
Hakkai: Gojyo! Please grab only the stones in your own path. You’re breaking the rule.
Gojyo: I know, I know. I was just trying to correct my course.
Goku: Hey, I’ve already reached the top!
Gojyo: That was fast!
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Hakkai: Next, let’s try these.
Goku: Ah, I’ve seen them on the TV before. You run on them, right?
Hakkai: Right. These are treadmills. Once you set the speed using the display between the handles, the belt below will start to move.
Sanzo: Hmm. Indeed. (sets the speed of his treadmill and starts his ‘workout.’)
Gojyo: That’s slow! Aren’t you just walking? How much did you set the speed to?
Sanzo: Hah? Two kilometers per hour.
Gojyo: Isn’t that just an old man’s stroll?
Goku (sets the speed on his treadmill and starts to run): Woah!
Gojyo: The monkey’s set the speed too high!
Hakkai: Goku, how much on earth much did you set the speed to?
Goku: Thirty kilometers per hour!
Gojyo: This fitness nut! I’ll play it safe and set the speed to seven kilometers per hour.
Goku: Eeei! (presses some buttons on the display of Gojyo’s treadmill)
Gojyo: Oi? Wo–woah! What were you doing, pressing my buttons as you pleased?
Goku: Why not? We’re supposed to be working out anyway. Let’s run thirty kilometers together!
Gojyo: My legs are sore already! Oh... oh! Hey, Hakkai, help me! Turn it off!
Hakkai: You’ll be getting the proper amount of exercise, so it’s a good thing after all.
Gojyo: I’ll probably be getting more than the ‘proper’ amount!
Sanzo (as soon as his treadmill beeps): Okay, shall I increase the speed to three kilometers an hour now?
Gojyo (pants): You should increase your speed a bit more! At the rate you’re going, there’s no point to it!
Goku: I’m not even out of breath yet!
(Gojyo screams as he continues running.)
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Gojyo (wheezes): I thought I was going to die.
Hakkai: In the end, instead of running, you were carried away.
Sanzo: The kappa was carried away by the belt. [A twist of the Japanese proverb “the kappa is carried away by the river,” a running in-joke about Gojyo’s lack of swimming skill.]
Gojyo: That’s not funny.
Goku (gulps down his drink with relish): Waah! There’s nothing like milk after a workout!
Gojyo: Someone didn’t move much at all considering his earlier concern regarding his waistline. Could you even call what he did a workout?
Sanzo: Shut up!
Hakkai: If he’d overdone it and got a strained back as a result, it’d be a disaster. That amount of workout should be okay for him.
Sanzo: You guys are treating me thoroughly like an elderly person.
Goku: Ah! Hey, what’s that?
Gojyo (reads the label out loud): ‘Biological Age Meter?’ What’s this?
Hakkai: Instead of your real age, it’s a device that predicts your body’s actual age based on factors such as your health status and muscle mass. Shall we give it try?
Sanzo: How bothersome.
Goku: It’s just like getting on a bathroom scale.
Gojyo: Ignore him. He just doesn’t want to confront the reality of his aging body.
Sanzo: I’ll do it.
Hakkai: It looks like the result will be printed out on a slip of paper. Shall we get measured in turns and show each other our results at the same time afterward?
Goku: Sure! Then, I’ll go first!
(The Age Meter beeps a few times.)
Hakkai: Everyone’s got themselves measured, right? Let’s show our results at the count of three. One, two, three!
Goku: Eighteen!
Gojyo: Twenty-three.
Sanzo: Thirty-four.
(Hakkai gasps in shock.)
Goku: Hakkai?
Gojyo: What’s the matter? Show us your result!
Hakkai: F–forty-six....
Sanzo: That’s twice your real age.
Goku: Eh? Hakkai’s forty-six years old?
Hakkai: How... how could that be? (collapses)
Gojyo: Don’t be so shaken up. That thing’s nothing more than a fancy bathroom scale. Maybe what you got was just some machine error?
Goku: It’s not just Hakkai. The result says Sanzo’s already thirty-four years old.
Sanzo: A surplus of ten years is within the range of measurement errors.
Gojyo: It’s not a measurement error at all. In the monkey’s and my case, our bodies’ actual ages match our real ages pretty closely. In Sanzo and Hakkai’s case, well, I can imagine it for Sanzo, but how could this be the case for Hakkai?
Goku: Hmmm.... Ah! Hakkai fights using qigong, right? You don’t have to move much with that technique, do you?
Sanzo: Ah.
Goku: Sanzo’s fighting technique is similar, but since he frequently misses his target, he usually ends up fighting at close quarters.
Sanzo: Oi!
Goku: Hakkai’s qigong has a wide attack range and exerts an enormous force, so he hardly moves from his starting position during fights.
Gojyo: Well, you might say that not moving much during fights is a characteristic of his.
Hakkai (stands up slowly): That’s enough.
Gojyo: Ha–hakkai?
Hakkai: I’ve had enough. The result is the result. There’s nothing I can do but to accept it. Now that the reason behind it has been made clear, improving my current condition takes priority over other things.
Goku: Er... this means?
Hakkai: Sanzo, please lend me the credit card.
Sanzo: Hah? What for?
Hakkai: I’m going to extend the gym session. For the next three hours, I’ll intensively do over the workouts. Of course, I’ll have a certain thirty-four year-old accompany me during those workouts.
Sanzo: Don’t drag me into this!
Hakkai: No excuses. Come, let’s go to the reception.
Sanzo: Stop grabbing me! Let go!
Hakkai: Come along. (drags Sanzo away)
Sanzo: What’s with this ridiculous strength? Wait, Hakkai!
Gojyo: There’s a glazed look in Hakkai’s eyes.
Goku: But, exercise is a good thing. I’ll join them too. Sanzo, Hakkai, wait for me!
Gojyo: Oh well, I suppose it’s fine. This means I’m free to do as I wish for now. Right, I’ll go make use of the hot spring bath and pick up a pretty lady or something.
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(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes and clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure of.
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I've been spending a lot of time listening to audiobooks lately because I feel a need to consume content at a higher level of attention. Reading nonfiction, in particular, tends to cause my brain to "turn off" for minutes at a time as I sort through the ideas being presented. This is why I never get anything done at work: there are usually periods where I "take a break" to listen to the audiobook version of a book or something. It helps get my brain to get on the same level as the information, and keeps it from getting the wrong idea.
In the case of audiobooks, I'm not sure the content is "better" on some objective scale, because the audiobook has all the same flaws as the printed book – the formatting, the awkward phrasing, the awkwardness with which characters are described, the overall presentation. But the audiobook does allow the content to flow through my head more naturally, because it's coming from the book, and not from the written word. (There is no way to convey the "feel" or "sound" of spoken words the way a writer can. They have to be written down first, which means you have to spend a lot of time translating them into written words, and that's where the awkwardness comes in, and the fact that they sound awkward is the point)
I was listening to a few minutes of the audiobook of The Great Gatsby today. I was struck by how weird the novel would sound if I was just reading it. It's a funny story, of course, but its "novelty" is one of those things that's impossible to convey in text, because its "novelty" comes from its sound – from the way it is said to us.
It's like when a movie or play is in the same genre as you are – in both cases, you might know that the story is told in a similar way, but it will be a jarring, awkward experience to get it in your head. (I wonder if any readers have ever gotten that experience – maybe Homestuck?) It seems that there are two main things the reader brings to the novel/movie experience that is missing:
1. the tone
2. the feeling, the sound, and the "structure" of language
(This is the sense in which I'm not really reading the words of the story anymore, because I'm not having to translate anything into a sort of visual, graphic/artistic structure of "words.")
I think it's an interesting "phenomenon" because it's one of those things that doesn't exist in the world. It only exists in the reader's head (but it's "present" in some kind of way that I think of as "direct perception"). When I feel like I can get the story "in the head" without thinking about it in a visual way, it seems much more like reading a book, or a movie, or whatever. I feel like the "book" version is much closer to the sort of experience I want to get from a book/movie/audiobook, than the "word" version of that book/movie/audiobook – but no one is getting the book experience (because no one can write it). (This isn't to say the written word is inauthentic, just that inauthentic books don't exist.)
I remember I talked to a friend once about how much I enjoyed "watching" movies on the subway (the movies were always long and it was hard for me to concentrate), and he suggested I try reading novels while sitting on a subway, but the words didn't feel quite right when I tried to read them while sitting on a subway, even though in many ways the experience was similar. (I do the "watching movies on the subway" thing a lot, and while it is a very enjoyable experience I've never been able to describe it to anyone because there's no "way" of getting it "in the head" unless you're the one watching the movie; it has to be experienced directly, without being "described" to the reader)
I have no idea what the solution is to all this. My life is pretty hectic and I don't need to get work done anymore. I don't want to go back to work as a creative worker, since I know the kind of work is unhealthy and doesn't help my brain develop – and I don't want to create things that get "stuck" in my head and require me to spend a lot of time trying to get it out. (I remember reading something a few years ago about what I should do when I don't know where my project is going, and I feel like that's me right now – I know my work isn't "stuck" in there, but I don't know its destination.)
Maybe I should get a pair of headphones and sit and listen to audiobooks for hours, which I have wanted to do but never actually tried to do for one reason or another. But it would have to be a really long book because I need to get as much information in as I can.
That's a lot of effort, and I might be better off just leaving it alone until after I've finished the books I read as part of the project. Maybe I'll sit and just think for a while, in between books, trying to figure this out.
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Literally the only Gosling film I'd ever seen before Barbie was Remember the Titans like 25 years ago.
Jesus that makes me feel old. I am. Christ.
(it's only 23 years? That's... not better)
Working my way through belatedly so imma just use this post to keep track of thoughts and feelings
The Gray Man: fucking loved it so much??? Murder weapon turned unwilling father figure??? Sad grumpy dads are my one trope to rule them all, particularly when bound with found family. I'd wanna play checkers with Six. Like the characters were super compelling to me, the way they showed development and how everything felt character driven to me? And there were such good unspoken implications that also expanded on these characters without burdening the storytelling. AND the lack of gore!!!! This was a super violent movie and it only got a PG-13 because you literally don't need to show that shit on a screen. Bless
The Nice Guys: I expected to be aced out by the whole porno thing, but it was more nudity with implications than *the do* and I guess that didn't cross the line for me. And honestly pretty mild at that. The plot has holes. So many holes. Russell Crowe's accent was distracting. And crazily, I didn't really care about any of that, because the characters and their dynamics and chemistry were just chef's kiss. I love Holland? And I love that he is a disaster. I would not like him in person. There is a little gore at the end, but if you consider physics, it's not realistic at all (crazy how you can convey a visual without having to emotionally scar your audience, who knew???). This is the only one I have re-watched so far, and now have the book so that I can consume my comfort in multiple forms.
La La Land: idk. The music was good. Ryan walks some kind of way. I was VERY impressed with his piano skills. (I was raised by a pianist, so I have to notice that stuff, which makes me sound pretentious I'm so sorry). Idk what happened. I have no idea what the message was, or if there even was one. It seemed like it was trying to have one?? But like "you can either fall in love, follow your dreams, or be successful, but only two out of three. And if you get rid of one, you're guaranteed to get the others." Idk. Very meh, probably won't watch again except for specifically the piano playing.
Lars and the Real Girl: tbh my only context for this movie was an episode of Pushing Daisies where a delusional guy used his doll to murder someone, so. I did not have high expectations. Also had no idea RG had anything to do with it. *And* my tolerance level for secondhand embarrassment is on the fucking floor so I expected to have to turn it off. I didn't. Fuck. This movie was so wholesome???? The treatment of a mental illness was so supportive and positive??? (Except for the touch thing, that was... Let people not want to be touched!)
The Notebook: hi, I hated the Notebook. I don't get the hype, I don't know why people treat it like the ultimate romance. Man coerces a girl into a date by threatening to kill himself, she retaliates by publicly humiliating him. They scream at each other a lot. Poor communication. Obsessive behavior?? Literally so creepy??? Anyway they're terrible for each other and it's an unhealthy relationship. Ryan with brown eyes. Only rewatching if it's to roast and drink.
Half Nelson: made me uncomfy, but that was the point, right? It's a white savior movie but it's about being a white savior movie. The racial subtext of a white guy stepping in inappropriately and what the fallout of that is; stack on the nuance of addiction, male entitlement. How powerful of a moment for Drey to ask "will I end up like my brother" and Dan being the one to make her so. (Also the performance by Shareeka Epps? Spellbinding.) The writer who became a teacher and then never got around to writing? Real. So was the fact that nothing happened professionally after he did what he did to his coworker. Very pre-Me Too. Anthony Mackey was both the most charismatic and, somehow, most responsible character in the entire thing. My only actual beef is the camera work. This last bit is petty - they finally gave me a RG character with a cat, and the cat dies (but, very single white bachelor to name him Dave omg.)
Crazy, Stupid Love: uhhhhh the children involved in this were... this wasn't good. There could have been good lessons for them (the son with consent maybe??) (*not* depicting a teenage girl giving suggestive photos to a child???) but there weren't. There were good aspects in the story, don't get me wrong: exploring relationships, trying to find your identity outside of just 'who you're married to'. I get it. Everything that wasn't actively trying to teach a lesson was funny. The parts that were meant to be heartfelt, did not age well and also probably weren't great to begin with. Maybe that's the male gaze idk. I wanted more of Jacob and Cal's actual relationship, because what was being suggested between the lines was way more interesting to me than the actual plot. Jacob with the family/bonding with Cal's kids completely off-screen, are you kidding me? Cal being a really weird, awkward stand-in for Jacob's father? Jacob accidentally being written demi-romantic and having a crisis about it? I'd love someone to remake this movie. Preferably women-directed. [But I am obsessed with the second Jacob heard David's name and had zero hesitation, just ring off 'we doin this'. He's a real one.]
Can you tell I have feelings about overuse of sex and gore? Esp how it's been the last few years? Ugh. Like I want to watch Drive bc it sounds like it's supposed to be an ✨iconic✨ role for him but I get squicked out by chunks/organs and stuff and I have no idea how graphic it is. Can we go back to shit being implied, off screen, or at least artistic again???
I'm not tagging this, it's for me lmao
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Janira Moncayo landed three part-time jobs in fine arts when she graduated from university, and she took them all. Anxious about making it in a tough field, she threw herself into work, regularly working 56 hours a week. But it was too much. Her stress levels skyrocketed, and she would frequently end her days crying from the pressure.
"All of my time was dedicated to working," said the 23-year-old, who came from Ecuador in 2018 to attend the Alberta University of the Arts. Now she's joined others of her generation in pushing back against what she sees as an unhealthy obsession with work. She adopted a new philosophy and is now just working one job.
"I would like to live in a place where you can feel comfortable and not work yourself to death to try to prove something or even try to make a living." She sounded poised and sure of her choice at CBC Calgary's Young Calgary launch, a partnership with the Calgary Public Library designed to hear from more young adults in the news.
"So right now, I'm trying to really ground myself to figure out: Is this thing that I'm doing actually making me feel good?" Researchers and labor insiders have been tracking this generational shift in perspective across North America.
With an ongoing labor shortage among some professions in the province, they have some power, but that's not unlimited, she said. Last Friday, more than 200 young adults came out to Calgary's Central Library to take part in the mixer. They shared their thoughts with journalists on everything from dating in this city to where teens hang out and their dreams for their work lives.
Many looked anxious as they talked about an economy that is defined by its booms and busts. Others mentioned how the oil and gas industry doesn't align with many of their environmental values, causing them to look at different fields.
But the biggest theme at the library that night was that work shouldn't consume one's life. A few seemed driven to succeed no matter what, but most said mental health should come first. There are non-negotiables, they said, that were neglected by past generations of workers. They said they were not going to do the same.
At the mixer, CBC Calgary invited attendees to write about the kind of work-life they dream about. "A healthy one," wrote one participant. "A successful career while still having time for my family," wrote another.
That's exactly what Lane heard when, in 2022, the Canada West Foundation released a report that tracked trends among the province's youth. The organization ran focus groups for young people and surveyed 2,000 young adults online.
"They don't want to have the job be the only thing that drives them," Lane said. "They want to be able to enjoy life beyond the doors of the office or the factory or the hospital or wherever they work."
Most Gen-Zers around the globe share that view, and should it not be met, they're willing to move on. McKinsey & Company found that 77 percent of Gen-Z respondents in the U.S. said they were looking for a new job, almost double the rate of other respondents.
Perhaps this generation will change as they grow older and take up the jobs familiar to past generations of workers. But given the massive changes on the horizon for Alberta's economy, Lane sees another possible outcome. They might actually create at least some of the change they're looking for.
"The economic situation, which is in flux, means we just don't know if there is going to be a recession and, if so, how deep," she said. "But this generation, unlike generations before, is actually in the driver's seat, so to some extent there are choices."
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Hi! Could I request some hcs or a one shot (whichever you prefer!) where Gojo finds out reader has never orgasmed with a partner before because her previous partners were kind of asses. Thank you either way! Have a lovely day! :)
hello love~
I figured I might as well turn this into a one shot because there had been just so~ many ideas floating around my head for this (including a few Japan traumata lol) - I hope you're ready to buckle up cause this one comes in at 5k appr. enjoy -mesu.
PS: A very special thanks to niob for beta-ing this monster and talking me through it!!!❤
Gojō Satoru x f!reader
warnings: vaginal penetration, oral sex (receiving), Gojō being a smug arse
You cursed the day you were born. Actually, no. You cursed the day Gojo Satoru was born to torment your existence.
The first time you had met Gojo it had been your first year teaching at Kyoto jujutsu high and your first impression had been that no single living being could withstand his gaze of scrutiny. Given, as the wielder of both infinity and the six eyes there wasn’t anyone on his level to begin with, but did he really have to be an arse about it? Who even hired him as a teacher – a person supposed to be of pedagogic value – in the first place?
Luckily, you didn’t have to see him all that often, usually just whenever the time of year came around for the good-will event with the sister school in Tokyo but he had picked up an unhealthy interest in your person and relentlessly teased you for whatever you did and didn’t do alike.
Utahime had once suggested that it was Gojo’s twisted way of flirting with you and you couldn’t help but scoff and reply that you had seen Gojo flirting. And it was nothing alike how he was acting towards you. Afterwards, Utahime had taken pity on you and acted as an intermittence between you and Gojo so he wouldn’t get under your skin anymore, albeit he mostly ended up getting under hers instead.
At least, that was until tonight. With the students being sound asleep in bed, everyone involved in the event unanimously had decided to head for a drink at a fancy bar in Ginza to celebrate the event ending more or less successfully despite the unforeseen interference of some higher ranked curses and you ended up sitting sandwiched between Utahime and Shoko who both had insisted on a girl’s table away from curious colleagues and ears, while the other staff were seated at a slightly larger table just out of earshot.
The back of your head hit your nape when you downed what felt like the 7th shot of nihonshu. The alcohol prior to the shots had already infiltrated your system, leaving your senses foggy and your tongue loose. You weren’t about to spill your secrets just yet, but it was definitely getting harder to suppress the glances you’d love to gift Gojo who seemed entirely unfazed by any of the liquor he had consumed this evening.
That prick has to use his innate techniques to cope with the alcohol!
You narrowed your eyes, glaring at the tall man across the table who hadn’t even bothered to take his blindfold off while sporting a vaguely amused if aloof expression while the headmaster of Kyoto high and Tokyo high appeared to be in a heated discussion. Speaking of rude.
Lost in your thought of how much you longed to wipe that smirk off of Gojo’s face, you didn’t follow the topic of conversation of your friends at the table who definitely had one nihonshu too many.
“I’m telling you, anatomically speaking, it’s just unfair. It’s so much easier for men to achieve an orgasm, alright? It’s as if nature was against us women,” Shoko sighed dramatically, taking the nihonshu bottle to refill the shot glasses only to find it empty. Another, this time desperate, sigh followed.
“What’s even worse is that men usually don’t care about their partner's pleasure at allll,” Utahime responded with a distinct lull in her voice while she was already close to resting her cheek on the table. She’s definitely had enough but that didn’t stop her from going on, “Ever since I started dating, there’s been what? Maybe two decent enough guys that actually cared if I came too or not.”
“Sounds about right,” Shoko agreed, apparently trying to find some universal truth in the emptiness of the bottle she was still holding onto.
You shot a glance to the two unhappy women at your side, deciding that it was time to share your two cents of truth under your breath, “At least you’ve had partners before who took care of your needs, too. I for once have only been with arseholes who could care less if I came or not. And so I never did… so…consider yourselves lucky? I guess.”
As expected, your volume made it impossible for them to catch what you were revealing and Utahime unbeknownst interrupted the aftermath to your soft confession by suddenly straightening her posture in a surge of drunken energy, grabbing one of your and Shoko’s hands respectively to declare something about not letting this circumstance prevent anyone from having a great night.
You could’ve sworn the corner of Gojo’s mouth perked up the second you shot him another glance…
A few drinks, a second bar, and a couple hours later.
Your head was spinning slightly and you leaned your back against the wall of the establishment you’d just stepped out of. Damn your senpai for making you drink. You soaked in the wet, clean night air which could only be achieved during the rainy season in Tokyo.
The moment you pressed your eyes shut you could hear Utahime demanding to move onto a karaoke bar and continue this until morning. Of fucking course, you thought to yourself and opened your eyes, desperate for any excuse to skip what was about to come.
Among general consensus with a few nods and exclamations here and there, you slowly noticed how Gojo was watching you intently. By now he had actually gotten rid of his blindfold and was sporting his dark shades, his soft hair was framing his angular face, slightly damp by the drizzle and you would have gladly punched him for the way the street lights and shop signs reflected in his hair.
Still, right now you had other things to worry about and so you took a deep breath and spoke up, “Thanks for this evening but I’ll have to take my leave now. It’s already late and I don’t think my voice can handle singing right now.” An obvious lie as your voice was just fine, but it’d do the trick of getting you out of corporate pressure.
And that’s exactly what happened. Your excuse was accepted at face value and you were wished a good night’s rest. Umbrellas were opened and the group made of two faculties strolled towards the closet illuminated Karaoke sign.
You waited until everyone was on the move, so you could gather yourself in your time without any scrutinising eyes on you.
“Leaving an intoxicated damsel to her own devices? How could I be the strongest without taking care of her? Allow me to lead you home, (Y/N)~”
Just when you thought you had lived through the worst, Gojo’s voice piped up right next to your ear. You hadn’t seen him stay behind and now he was close, dangerously so, and he didn’t even care to hide the glee in his voice.
You managed to turn your head in his direction and gift him – what was in your imagination – a nasty stare. For Gojo, it rather seemed like you were trying your best to fixate your dizzy gaze on him.
He sighed and for once dropped his excruciating façade, speaking in a normal tone, “Seriously tough, (Y/N), I’d rather lead you home. Tokyo’s far from being safe at night.”
Seeing and actually hearing Gojo apparently genuinely concerned made you weigh your chances enough that you finally sighed in defeat, “Fine. But only up to the doorstep.”
Gojo blinked at you repeatedly, appearing almost insulted that you dared to think him a man who would take advantage of women like that – truth being that he was more insulted that you thought that he was actually in need of such tricks – and made an off-hand remark of how he could never.
You waved your hand dismissively and slowly tried to straighten your posture, “You’re here by car, right? That’s why you used your innate technique to not get drunk. Wish I could’ve done the same, wouldn’t be dying of spinning world syndrome right now.”
That stopped Gojo’s rant about his hurt pride. A sheepish smirk appeared on his lips and he stated flatly, “You noticed.”
You nodded, which turned out to have been a terrible idea. Nausea overcame you and you tried to curl into a ball, but Gojo was next to you in a second, smoothly wrapping his long arm around your waist while his free hand reached for your hand, easily securing your stance like that.
“Let’s get you home, shall we?”
You nodded and simply concentrated on not getting sick while he led you towards the parking lot where his car was parked. He left you shortly to pay for the ticket and you leaned against one of the nearby vending machines, concentrating on your breathing.
A few moments later the relatively quiet night was disturbed by the low roar of what turned out to be a pricey sports car. It didn’t take long for Gojo to stop said car right in front of you. Ever the gentleman he stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the passenger’s side for you, offering his hand to you for assistance. The entire picture which enfolded in front of you seemed to be taken out of a romance.
Only when you wobbled over to the car and felt the infinity between your hand and Gojo’s you snapped back to reality, pursing your lips as you stated, “You never let anyone actually touch you, do you?”
“If someone’s worth my while, sure I do,” Gojo replied with a sly smile, but something in his eyes appeared resigned, almost lost. But maybe that was just your imagination? Almost promising.
You didn’t even have time to follow-up on his statement as he simply shut the door in your face, cutting any further discussion short. Soon, Gojo settled in the driver’s seat and drove off towards your hotel. You didn’t even question how he knew where he needed to go.
Silence fell upon you and you simply turned your gaze to the flashing street lights, allowing you to marvel at Tokyo’s nocturnal atmosphere for a while. This was so much better than making your way through the confusing public transport in time for the last train. You shot Gojo another gaze and were surprised to find him diligently keeping his eyes on the road.
At once you wondered if you unwittingly had been keeping him from joining the others at karaoke. Singing one’s soul out and getting undressed in the process seemed right up Gojo’s alley.
“…Thank you for taking me back to the hotel. I appreciate it. You… didn’t really have to do this though, I’m sure you wanted to attend karaoke with the others,” you started off your half-apology.
A soft yet deep chuckle escaped Gojo’s throat.
“Oh sure I did, hun. There’s been something on my mind concerning you which is just soooo much more fun than karaoke could ever be after all,” Gojo casually replied, eyes never straying from the road.
You frowned and cocked your head in an inquisitive manner.
“Don’t act confused now, love,” Gojo smirked as he pulled over and parked the car right next to the entrance of the hotel. He unfastened his seatbelt to turn to you completely and casually rested his elbow against his seat, “Now, why don’t you tell me about never having orgasmed with a partner before?”
The question hung in the air for a moment as Gojo watched you curiously while you didn’t believe the meaning behind what your ears had picked up on.
“I…,” you spilled quickly, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This had to be a nightmare. How did he know of that? You never told a soul, too embarrassed by your unfortunate choice of past sexual partners, and now Gojo Satoru – out of all possible people – knew of your secret?!
The panic must have shown on your face as Gojo’s smug expression softened slightly and he leaned closer to you, only stopping when the tip of his nose almost collided with yours, “You should take more care who might be listening in when you’re talking to yourself, (Y/N).”
You nodded once and leaned back, avoiding Gojo’s touch and gaze as best you could, “T-thanks for the ride.” Even if his revelation had thrown you off entirely, you tried your best to hide it.
“My pleasure. I’ll have to insist on taking you to your room though.” Gojo’s tone was unforgiving and made it very clear that you wouldn’t get out of him walking you all the way.
You sighed deeply and submitted to your fate, sinking into your seat until he had rounded the car and opened the passenger’s door so you could accept his hand to disembark in a semi-elegant manner.
Once you had found your balance he let go of your hand, matching your pace as you walked towards your room, acting as if he hadn’t just nonchalantly invaded your privacy. You shot him several glances but Gojo acted very interested in the interior of the hotel. You didn’t buy it though. Obviously he was just relishing in the fact that he got under your skin.
So he didn’t want to push any further? Fine by you. You huffed softly and pushed the button for your floor once you boarded the lift, Gojo strolling on your heels, hands shoved into the pocket of his trousers.
You refrained from looking at anything close to Gojo’s direction, albeit you could feel his piercing gaze on you. You used the time of the short ride to get your room card out of your purse and as soon as the automatic doors opened, you darted out of the lift and unlocked the door to your room with a soft beep.
Barely having shuffled inside you got rid of your purse and turned around to thank Gojo once again, finding him right on your doorstep.
“Thanks, Gojo, I appreciate what you did tonight,” you smiled awkwardly at the close proximity and mustered the courage to look into his eyes, just to be surprised by their intensity.
“Of course,” Gojo hummed, resting his left arm on the doorframe he leaned closer, stopping right before crossing the threshold with his movements. He easily kept your eyes locked in his, making you all but forget about bringing some distance between you.
“Before I leave… y’know I could help you out with your little problem, (Y/N). If you’re up for it, that is.”
Gojo’s voice was low, eyes dark, pupils dilated with a certain hunger as they stared right into your soul.
When his words registered a soft gasp unwittingly left your lips as your eyes grew wide.
Just what was happening? Had Utahime been right all along?
The next moment Gojo was leaning down to you, making all but sure that your senses shut down to a bare minimum. Standing there frozen in place, time seemed to slow down around you as your eyes flickered from Gojo’s luscious lips to his cyan eyes and back to his lips again.
Was this really happening right now?
Your heart pounded against your chest harshly and you pressed your eyes shut to calm your nerves. That is when you felt his soft lips against the skin of your cheek, undoubtedly skin on skin. He‘d really turned his infinity off!
“As I have told you prior, I don’t take advantage of intoxicated women. But as I understand it, you still have a couple hours before your bullet train back to Kyoto tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you, (Y/N). You won’t regret it. . .~”
You held your breath and nothing. When you finally opened your eyes again Gojo was gone. Simply vanished! He had done exactly what he had promised to do. Taken you home, up to your doorstep and not a millimetre further.
Did this mean that he was going to keep what he offered if you turned up at his doorstep tomorrow? Up until now Gojo had never given you any reason to doubt him. Sure, he was a prick, but he was honest about being a prick. At least that was more than could be said about any of your former affiliations.
It took a couple more moments before you managed to close the door and turn in to a sleepless night contemplating if you might as well take Gojo up on his offer.
The next day. After some empty excuses to Utahime of why you couldn’t spend the last hours in Tokyo together. In front of Gojo’s apartment.
You stared at the kanji at the apartment, contemplating if you should really proceed now. It had been a pain to get Gojo’s address, dodging several inquisitive questions of Utahime, but now that you were finally here you weren’t sure if you should be anymore.
Given Gojo had lived up to every single thing he had proclaimed so far, plus he never had given you any reason not to trust him. Still, did being here meant that you were willing to compromise your integrity for something as trivial as good sex? More so than the actual act, you were afraid of what it might mean for your future relationship with Gojo; which would be anything but professional hereafter.
Before you could spiral further into second guessing yourself, the apartment door in front of you opened smoothly, offering the view to a slightly dishevelled looking Gojo apparently just out of the shower.
The moment you locked eyes with his bare ocean orbs, a smug grin emerged on his face, “Fancy seeing you here, (Y/N). Come in.”
You mumbled a greeting and stepped into his modern apartment, quickly getting rid of your shoes and outer layers while Gojo walked further back into the flat calling out to you, “Can I offer you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Pineapple juice?~”
You rolled your eyes, very convinced that you just shouldn’t have come here. You followed Gojo’s voice into a broad living room with an open kitchen. The colours and décor were kept simple, black and white, sometimes a splash of colour in the colour of his goddamn eyes.
After having accessed the surroundings to your heart’s content you turned to Gojo, “Do you happen to have pineapple juice – notoriously known for apparently for making the taste of oral sex sweeter – at hand for your guests at all times? Or did you go shopping for me yesterday?”
A soft chuckle, “I happen to like the flavour. Plus, I am quite certain your juices aren’t in need of any enhancement.” A wink followed. What a bastard.
Ignoring the faint blush that emerged on your cheeks, you countered, “And what exactly makes you so sure about that, mh?”
Gojo shortly nibbled on his full lips as he sized you up with hungry eyes. Then, he slowly rounded the kitchen counter until he stood right in front of you. The smell of his surprisingly fruity after-shave intoxicated your senses.
“Wanna find out?”
You managed a nod and Gojo smirked wider, simply lifting you up on the counter so you were closer to eye level with him.
And then he finally let his soft luscious lips collide with yours, involving you in a breathless, inifity-less kiss while your arms wrapped around his neck on their own accord. Gojo smirked against your lips pulling you closer to himself, gladly taking the opportunity to feel up through the fabric of the blouse you were wearing for travel.
How you cursed the school’s clothing protocol at that moment!
Frowning slightly you broke the kiss, quickly trying to get rid of your blouse with your hands, but Gojo had other plans, catching your hands in his he leaned closer and purred on your lips, “Ah-ah (Y/N), there’s still plenty of time till your bullet train. No need to rush~ This is more than a mere quicky to shoot one’s load and carry on, after all. I need you to relax and enjoy the ride.”
You weren’t quite sure what did the trick. The proximity to him or his genuine tone, but you visibly relaxed and started shamelessly feeling Gojo up in return. You weren’t surprised to find defined abs when you pushed the fabric of his shirt out of the way and followed their lines for a bit before you moved on to explore his back.
“Good girl,” Gojo chuckled in your ear and let out a teasing gasp in response to your initiative before he went to nibble on your earlobe, making you cross your legs behind his hips as a soft whimper escaped your lips.
“Sensitive, are we?”
Gojo moved back, capturing your lips in another kiss, this time parting yours with his cheeky tongue so he could explore your mouth to his heart’s content. You happily complied and concentrated on his tongue enough that you didn’t notice how he skilfully unbuttoned your blouse.
Your legs tightened around Gojo’s hips and you moaned when you felt his growing bulge through the fabric. Gojo took this opportunity to kiss down your neck only to ravish it mercilessly while his hands had taken a liking to your boobs, kneading them through your lacey bra.
“Hah~” More and more lewd noises filled the heated air as Gojo pinched your hardened nipples just the right amount to send shivers down your spine and you were glad that you didn’t have to depend on your trembling legs anymore.
Desperate for support you scratched blindly over Gojo’s upper arms which led him to gift you a wolfish smile as he pulled back enough to strip off your blouse and a swift motion later your bra followed.
Pouting slightly you picked on his shirt, making Gojo scoff and get rid of it, too. You sighed content about the equal stages of undress and wiggled slightly on top of the counter, enjoying the friction this provided against both the fabric of your pants and Gojo’s bulge.
“You little minx,” Gojo growled lowly, suddenly pinning you down to the counter by your neck. The cold surface sent a shiver through the entirety of your body. He adjusted his grip to be more gentle, yet still determined enough to hold you in place, actively preventing you from escaping from his touch. You would welcome the sweet torture that was to follow deliberately and Gojo was very aware of that.
Soon enough Gojo began his agonisingly slow treatment of your torso, mouthing his way from your collar bones to your chest where he spent his sweet time circling each nipple with his tongue.
You didn’t know what exactly he was doing with his shameless long tongue but you had never felt your body rise to the touch on its own quite like that and it took a minute to recognise it was your own voice which echoed through the apartment so obscenely.
Desperate for more stimulation which Gojo still withheld from you, you tried to pull him closer with your crossed legs, earning a suppressed moan from him as his erect member brushed against your clothed sex. How much you would’ve given for those layers to finally be gone.
“You really haven’t been getting laid properly at all, huh.”
Completely unnerved by now you groaned and shot Gojo an acid glare, but the elite sorcerer just chuckled to himself as he straightened back up, sizing you up in the process once again. You had never seen his eyes this dark.
In a split second his hands were undoing your pants as if they had never done anything else in his life and a few moments later you were sitting on the counter completely undressed.
When you blinked away your surprise, Gojo brushed another deep kiss on your lips, humming on them, “I’d hold onto something if I were you~”
And then he dove down to your core, hands holding your hips in place well aware that you wouldn’t be able to hold still.
As soon as his lips connected to your nether folds, a lightning impulse flashed through your body and your loudest moan yet left your lips. Your head flew back by itself and you wreathed as best you could on the counter top for either more or less friction, you weren’t quite sure.
All the while Gojo relentlessly continued his pursuit of your sex, tongue swirling expertly over and around your clit, building up a certain intensity before he moved down slightly to lick and mouth at your entrance.
You desperately held onto the edge of the counter for support, spilling his name over and over again, while Gojo cheekily thrust his tongue into you for a taste before he redirected his attention to your clit again.
The coil in your core seemed to harden and become undone at the same time and another flick of Gojo’s tongue made you scream as you jerked up as you finally hit your high. Juices spilled out of your cunt and you buried your flushed face in your hands while your entire body was convulsing in ecstasy.
Gojo made sure to keep his grip on you so you wouldn’t slide down from the counter, licking his soiled lips. Once he was sure that your breathing calmed down a bit he gently stroked away a couple of stray strands of hair and smirked, “Told ya you weren’t in the need of any enhancement, babe. You’re to die for~”
Still concentrating on your oxygen intake you were feeling rather overwhelmed with everything that had played out just now. It took a bit of bargaining with yourself to search for Gojo’s gaze again, but when your eyes met you immediately noticed the mixture of hunger and smug complacency in his. He had gotten you good, but you decided you weren’t going to leave before payback.
And so you cocked your brow up and smirked, “I admit you lived up to your word, Gojo. Mind if we take round two to the bedroom?”
A grin.
“Not at all, princess,” Gojo replied and picked you up bridal style to carry you off into his chamber.
Gojo’s bedroom was dark. Both furniture and bedding were either held in a dark grey or black and the shades were lowered. When Gojo let you down on the bed you took a look around and tended your head slightly at the unexpected interior.
You were torn out of your thoughts when you heard Gojo unbuckle his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper and turned back to see him in his whole glory.
His member was definitely on the larger side, but you were happy to see it came short of what you knew would be painful to insert. It had a nice girth and was slightly tended to the right, the tip glistening with pre-cum meant for your prior endeavors. You licked your lips unconsciously, eager to feel it in you.
“Marveled at my dick enough, have we? ” Gojo smirked knowingly and reached for a condom which just happened to lie on top of his nightstand.
You nodded slightly and watched him routinely put it on, before you pulled him on top of the bed and ravished his mouth with yours. He had deserved your undivided attention after making true of his promise and you were way past the stage of having any second thoughts.
Gojo curled his lips against yours, easily positioning himself on top of you while his hands were suddenly all over your body. It seemed like he wanted to leave his touch on every inch of your being and honestly? At this very moment you didn’t mind if he did.
The energy between the two of you grew hotter by the minute and you gasped for breath when he readjusted your hips so his member was prodding against your entrance.
“Last chance, (Y/N)…hng~”
The strain in his voice did it for you and you brushed a fleeting kiss on his cheek on your way to his ear, “Take me already, Satoru!”
A deep groan reverberated in Gojo’s upper body at the mention of his first name and he penetrated you in a swift, smooth motion, making both of you moan with pleasure.
He gave you a moment before he moved, offering the opportunity to get used to his considerable size before he started moving at a cheeky pace. Something had just clicked between the two of you and you moved against him as if you had never done anything else in your life. It felt liberating. It felt right. . .
A couple many minutes and exchanges of ecstasy later.
You were laying sprawled half-way over Gojo while he lazily played with your slightly damp hair. After your last round he had suggested a shower since you technically still had a train to catch and you thought it a good idea.
If you hadn’t stopped him, you would’ve also stained his bathroom with his name. Who would’ve thought that his infinite also applied to sexual stamina? But then again, it was Gojo who you were talking about.
You weren’t quite sure how this session was going to change your relationship with Gojo in the future, but you definitely didn’t regret going through with it.
You shuffled slightly on the bed and stretched slightly, “Mh, what’s the time?”
“Hn, ten past two,” Gojo replied with a raspy, yet slightly amused voice.
Ten past two. Ten past two. The bullet train back to Kyoto you were supposed to board was leaving at half past two!
You jumped out of the bed, hurriedly reaching for your clothes.
“FUCK!”
“Any time, (Y/N)”
You shot Gojo another glare, painfully aware that he had to have known.
Gojo only gifted you a wink and grinned, “If you are going to be as nice to me as you were just now the next time we meet, I might be willing to help you out, (Y/N)~”
You cursed the day you were born. Actually, no. You cursed the day Gojo Satoru was born to torment your existence.,
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#one shot#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen one shot#jujutsu kaisen x reader#text#jjk requests are open#not sfw#mesu#5k baby#jjk
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Shush
Wow. I think this is the filthiest and the most messed up shit I’ve ever written in my whole life send me holly water pls (after you enjoyed reading this duh) I don’t know how this idea popped up in my mind one night but yeah don’t come at me.
💊Title ‹ Shush ›
💊Pairing ‹ Jimin x OC (f) ›
💊Genre ‹ adopted brother au, forbidden/unhealthy romance, smut, angst ›
💊Summary ‹ Forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest and when the fruit comes in the form of an innocent boy it’s even sweeter. ›
💊Warnings ‹ emotional manipulation, discussions about an incurable disease, unhealthy relationship dynamics, some fluff, multiple smut scenes filthy so be aware!, mention (and brief description) of sexual fantasies, sub! Jimin, soft domme! OC, teasing, mention of porn watching, brief imagined masturbation, corruption kink, first time, virgin! Jimin, blowjob, handjob, good boy Jiminie, jealous OC, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this be safe!), exhibitionism, marking/biting, almost getting caught, dirty talk, riding, pls keep in mind that this is only fiction! don’t do this folks ›
💊Word count ‹ 6k ›
💊Masterlist
Brushing the snowflakes off my coat’s shoulder, I take a look around the spacious living room soaking in the warmth and waiting for my fingers to defrost, hearing nothing besides the wind that blows outside. Checking the clock on the wall I recall that mom should be still at work at this time around, nothing’s new.
I silently make my way upstairs then halting once I’m in front of Jimin’s bedroom door that has a big J on it. Mom would be upset if she knew I didn’t check on him first thing when I got home so I knocked once then twice before I heard muffled noises from the other side and the shuffle of sheets followed by a loud bang of something hard suddenly hitting the ground. The sound itself quite concerningly rings in your ears.
”Are you alright?” I place my palm on the wooden surface concentrating on the noises that I faintly hear filtering through the door, biting down on my lip as I still didn’t get an answer from him.
”Ok. I’m coming in!” I tell him after a couple of seconds of silence, I gave him enough time to yell out that he’s fine. I’m ready to burst through the door when his voice squeaks out a tiny unconvincing ’I’m good.’ but my hand is already on the doorknob. His body lays slightly off the bed when I enter his room, the bed under him is unmade and his hair is dishevelled sticking to different angles from all the tossing and turning looking soft, wearing only a thin white shirt and pyjama pants to bed. Probably haven’t gotten up from it all day.
”You fell off the bed again?” I chuckle, sending him an amused look spiced with an arched eyebrow – it’s not the first time I see him in this position – shaking my head from side to side, though my eyes reveal that I’m not angry just amused. I grab both his knees and help him to lay flat against the pillows just like he was most likely laying before. His eyes glow like a lightstick with a beaming smile on his face.
”Y/N, you’re home early.” Arching up a brow himself he situates his body to rest his back against the headboard interrogating the cause of my early arrival with a slightly hoarse voice. Jimin looks into a specific direction frequently enough for me to spot his staring. I reply to his statement with a roll of my eyes brushing his hair gently to the side after I checked he indeed has no fever. Giving him the benefit of the doubt that I have no idea he’s trying to hide something I smile back.
I scan through his room hoping to find out by the order of things are placed what he was doing before I got home, it’s easy to spot the differences since I’m the one who usually cleans in here but besides his laptop that sits on the far end of the bed instead of the desk, nothing else seems out of place.
”Why? Were you doing something you shouldn’t be?” I grin, at first the question was intended to be innocent but watching how Jimin’s face contorts into a scandalized look I know he’s up to no good. His expression soon gets replaced with shyness unintentionally a boyish blush spreads across his rosy cheeks. It gets me even more curious.
He gained some weight over the past weeks so his features are almost healthily filled out, the new medication seems to work better than the doctors had anticipated and right now he has minimal symptoms.
Mom must be pleased by the outcome, he regained so much colour to his pale skin too. I witnessed all his ups and lows, I still remember the day I met him. He was in a bad shape, bedridden, so pale and skinny like a skeleton. He couldn’t even sit up on his bed to greet me and when he opened his eyes hearing my mom’s voice calling out to him I came face to face with his teary eyes, hands grabbing his chest to ease the pain that he felt crawling his way up from under his ribcage as a silent tear rolled down his cheeks. He got better when mom decided to take him out of the care system and switched doctors to look after his further treatment.
I regarded him as a responsibility at the beginning of our relationship made sure he took his medication between meals just like my mother instructed. Cleaned his room and made him food when my mother was busy with work. She’s a nurse at the local hospital, she left me alone with him a lot, her job consumes a lot of her time so I had to take care of him almost every day after school even had to take a few days off so I can stay at home when his condition started to get worse and he needed more supervision than usual.
Be that as it may, he had his better days that I started to like so much, spending time with him stopped being an obligation and instead, the time spent together started to be the highlights of my days.
Listening to his angelic laugh, having him listen to me talking about my day. No boy or man ever paid this much genuine attention to me, only him. He has his eyes only on me.
His fierce response makes me come to my senses, dragging me out of my own consuming thoughts.
”Of course not!” He defensively spats my hands away when I try to pinch his cheeks. He looks very pretty when the sun shines on his face. He looks like an angel.
”Oh really? I guess it’s fine then to show me your laptop’s search history. How about right now?” I move faster than he can snatch the device so I’m able to get it and open his tab before he even lets a leg down to plant his feet on the ground.
However, I was not expecting to find something this interesting in his log history. Looking between the screen and his red face I tilt my head to the side seemingly deep in my thoughts. It’s not that I never acknowledged the fact that he’s a man in his mid-twenties and because of his unfortunate susceptibility to having a systemic autoimmune disease he never had the chance to socialise like it’s a norm for most people. The only other’s he meet day by day are my mother and I since he can’t go out because of his photosensitivity.
Maybe I could blame the stars that never flickered out of his naive eyes for the past ten years I’ve known him for not thinking that Jimin could have dirty thoughts. Well, this porn page clearly states otherwise.
I know it’s inappropriate to think about Jimin, my adopted brother, in this way but I can’t find it in me to stop the spiralling thoughts.
Wondering if he masturbates while watching these videos when I’m in school. How he grabs his cock with shaky hands, cute fingers coated in his precum. Wondering if he uses the same hand to hold mine innocently after he did dirty things to himself. I subconsciously rub my thighs together to ease some of the tension that gathered between my thighs, even fantasising about him makes me feel hot.
I feel bad thinking about him inappropriately when he’s sick but I can’t seem to feel the shame when I look directly into his bright eyes now. The rational part of my brain screams that it’s inappropriate even though we are not blood-related.
Heck, not at all as mom adopted him when his last remaining family member, his father died ten years ago.
Jimin’s facial expression is like an open book I read him so well. Poor boy can’t even lie everything he thinks about is apparent on his pretty face.
Afraid that I’ll call him names he lowers his gaze, waiting for me to tell him that I’m disappointed and disgusted by him now that I discovered his dirty little secret that he rubs one out to porn but oh boy he has no idea. That I think about him in a way a sister shouldn’t. That there is nothing wrong with being curious. He has all the right to be. It’s easy to forget he’s older than me when I’m the more experienced one in everything.
”Hey it’s ok,” I get to my previous position, sitting down on the edge of his bed right next to his waistline. I curl a finger under his chin to level his face with mine, showing him a small smile indicating that everything’s gonna be alright.
”I watch porn sometimes too, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here Jiminie. It’s only natural to be curious about it. It’s human nature.” He avoids making eye contact but a tiny nod in my direction shows me that he’s listening.
”If you want I promise I’ll forget that this ever happened. Do you want that honey?” Nudging his pinky with mine I offer him the chance to change the topic to something light.
”You won’t tell mom about it, right?” Nodding my head in agreement I assure him that this piece of information can be our secret and no one has to know that this conversation ever happened. It appears to calm him down gradually as he finally reciprocates my gaze and sighs in relief. What you didn’t expect to hear after that, however, was an explanation of why he started watching porn.
”I want to know how it feels.” Jimin admits shyly, looking around to avoid my eyes as he tells me his hidden thoughts and I find him truly endearing. The previous tense atmosphere seems to completely fade away as Jimin relaxes his muscles against the bedsheet and opens up his heart.
”What? Sex?” I asked, watching his reactions closely as I experimentally place my palm above his right knee. An innocent touch.
Jimin shivers into the contact but other than that nothing remarkably changes in his behaviour or posture. He pays careful attention to not let his feelings show up on his otherwise expressive face. Cute. Sooner or later I’ll know how he really feels about my advances as he can’t keep pretending for long. He was never good at it.
”Yes. They seem to like it so much when I’m watching those videos.” Humming approvingly I rest a manicured nail at the edge of his waistband, this earns a sharp inhale of breath but he doesn’t try to remove my touch that indicates he’s not uncomfortable with me touching him. He doesn’t seem bothered, just a little sheepish.
”You know, a video is nothing compared to the real thing.” I let a single finger slide under his shirt drawing circles into his hipbone eyes watching the way his chest moves up and down a little faster at that.
”What a shame that you don’t know pretty girls to have sex with.” Deciding it’s time to remove my hand I’m letting the limb fall to my side lazily. Jimin’s lips immediately form a pout after I stop making advances on his body, showing me that he was expecting something more. All this time I thought he doesn’t see me like I see him but maybe I was wrong assuming that. Gaining confidence I decide it’s time to push his buttons a little more.
”I’m sure girls would form long lines to get into your pants baby. I wouldn’t be surprised since you are so pretty.” The praise makes his ears bright red, mother did a good job with giving him a boyish undercut a good fashion choice to leave the tips longer so I can easily comb my fingers through it, curling a few strays behind his ears.
”Y-Y/N.” A breathy moan leaves his lips as I kiss the underside of his jaw on impulse, finding stability by grabbing onto his thighs to lean closer and breathe in his clean scent. I push him against the headboard but he doesn’t mind it at all, too lost in the moment, feeling my lips on his throat to register any pain.
I pull away slightly to reconnect our eyes. Jimin licks his dry lips, not having anyone to talk to until I arrived home, he kept his mouth shut only feeling now how dry his throat is all of the sudden.
A ghost of a smile appears in the corner of my mouth as I realise Jimin is watching my lips not even trying to conceal his desire to have another taste of the forbidden fruit. This is so wrong but his lips are so light against mine, afraid that if I apply pressure somehow this moment will end and I don’t want this to ever end but as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever in life.
The magical moment ends when I hear my mother’s voice from downstairs. ”Y/N, Jimin I’m home!”
The cheerful voice of my mother abruptly interrupts our first shared kiss, not letting him chase the taste of my cherry lip balm I place a small peck on his nose instead yelling back that we’re upstairs and we’ll be down in a minute.
”No need to rush,” I peck his forehead this time, giving his face small kisses to lift his mood. It’s comical how disappointed he looks with his nose scrunched up adorably. He really has no shame as he sighs licking his lips to taste the remaining flavour of our kiss.
”We can continue this tomorrow, we have so much time, I promise...”
And continue we do. True to my word I comply with his request pulling the oversized t-shirt over my head to reveal him my black lacy bra and the curve of my waist. His eyes devour the new uncovered flesh hands lingering in the air itching to touch my bare skin but too shy to do it without my permission. He remains frozen in the act. Dreamy eyes watching my reaction to his shy movements silently asking for a sign that it is alright to touch. He’s so curious he wants to hear those noises the couples always make in his videos.
I nod putting him out of his misery cradling his hand in mine to place the warm palm onto my covered breast I guide his movements fondling the flesh, his touch feels good despite the barrier between his skin and mine.
Slipping his hand under the cup his finger comes into contact with my nipple I show him how to circle the bud until it gets erect a small sigh escaping my lips. I had the sudden urge to steal a kiss so I leaned in to grab the back of his neck and crush our lips together no tongue just lips touching sweetly.
I removed his touch to intertwine our fingers placing both of our hands to rest against the bed leaning into his mouth more.
”Is that all that you want me to do?” I murmur the words into his mouth, encouraging him to say more, to do more. Jimin swallows the saliva in his mouth gaze significantly cloudy as he stares into my eyes, shaking his head. He got so far the current thoughts in his head are clearly not about stopping anytime soon.
”What else do you want then?” I press him to answer my question, following the line of his upper lip with my thumb smearing the lip balm that got transferred from my lips to his while kissing, Jimin took a shaky breath before opening his mouth.
”Y-your tongue.” His tongue seemingly came out subconsciously to wet his lips I closed my eyes moaning at the sinful image. He really did his research, I’m about to give him everything he wants if he keeps up with these innocent yet so dirty looks.
”Where do you want it?” I grin moving closer so our thighs are firmly pressed together letting go of his hand to cup his face with both hands. Bending my head to peck the outline of his vein on his neck his pulse quickens under my touch. Pleased to have had such a great effect on him.
”In my mouth.” He squeaks out his response when I bite into his shoulder careful not to really pierce his skin but let him feel a moderate amount of pain mixed with his pleasure. I smooth my tongue where I bit making sure that I don’t leave any marks on his perfect skin. I don’t want our mother to ask questions later.
”Hm,” I hum into his neck satisfied by the answer before lining our faces again to fulfil his wish. ”Open.” As soon as I command his lips part obediently waiting for me to slip my tongue into his awaiting mouth.
”Jimin. Can I touch you?” I sigh into his mouth, he tastes so sweet I can’t seem to get my fill as I discover every corner of his hot cavern licking the roof teasing him before letting our wet muscles touch in a heated battle for dominance. Jimin gets greedy soon as he pushes my tongue back to do the exploration of his own, the kiss turns sloppy and too much saliva. Hands clutching onto the duvet under him grounding his body swimming in euphoria from falling too deep into the feeling.
”Yes, please.” Our eyes open slightly to watch each other my mouth founds the corner of his lips then the side of his cheek and jaw before diving back in parting his lips with my tongue to continue tasting him.
With a feather-light touch, I snake my hands upwards his thin frame and tiny waist feels so fragile under my fingers. I want to pepper his torso with my kisses pushing his body down using his shoulders to see his weight bounce on the bed. But I can’t get so ahead of myself, Jimin deserves to be worshipped like the angel he is.
”Lay down on your back Jiminie.” I smile seeing how obedient he is following my orders without any complaints or questions. He trusts me so much.
The thought alone that he is under me letting me have my ways with him makes my underwear sit uncomfortably against my heat when I move my legs to straddle his hips I feel how drenched I am for him. So pretty and so eager under me as his head rests on the pillows he truly looks like an innocent angel.
I motion for Jimin to raise his arms so I can get rid of his shirt and finally do what I intended to do and kiss his body starting from his collarbones all the way to the line where his pyjama pants hide the delicious lines of his hip bones.
I press kisses of praises into his shoulder blades moving down following the line of his sternum to give attentive licks and pecks all over his stomach feeling his muscles tensing under my lips whines and other sweet sounds slipping out of his parted lips as he breathes heavily through his nose with his eyes closed.
When I let a couple of fingers slide under his pants I realise the lack of material under my touch. He’s not wearing his boxers. The outline of his dick is evident when I look down he’s not that long but where he lacks his grith makes up for it as I can already imagine how good he would feel buried in me stretching my walls so good.
”Do you want me to touch your pretty cock darling?” I don’t forget to ask for permission even though by now I can clearly see how much he wants all this. The sight itself, how his member strains against the concealing fabric is an awfully clear giveaway of his growing desires. Jimin maintains our eye contact with hooded eyes nodding his head fervently before he can confirm his needs with words. His body burns but not with fever.
”I..yes, please. I w-want you to.” Jimin squirms waiting for me to do something that would relieve some of the tension in his joints. His cock feels heavy in my hand ready to sink into my cunt anytime, I can’t wait to put my mouth around it first but I have to be patient. I circle a digit around the tip testing how much precum he has for me.
Holding the digit up to my lips I taste the slightly salty substance humming approvingly. Tugging his pants down I get to work giving a kiss to the tip before coating his member with my saliva so I can lubricate his shaft enough so it won’t hurt him. His whole body shakes when my mouth makes contact with his cock his virgin body overwhelmed with the new sensation the little pleasure already too much for him to handle.
I make a mental note about grabbing some lube on my way home tomorrow so I can be prepared for situations like this. My lips suddenly widen into a Cheshire grin as I deliver the last lick all the way up to the hilt replacing my mouth with my hand.
”Jiminie look here for a little.” I coax him to open his eyes again with a sweet voice. ”Like that darling.” I praise him when his eyes met mine, choosing the moment his gaze connects with mine to use the same hand that pleasured him to glide under my jeans and underwear mixing my arousal with his precum I moan for the show as I rub my clit before collecting my essence so I can use it on his dick giving him the needed extra lubricant.
Jimin’s eyes don’t stay open for long when I finally touch him properly with the intent of making him cum. He can’t seem to keep his moans and throaty whines to himself as I give him a confident grip increasing the speed of my wrist when his whines became more high pitched his body gives away all the signs when he shakes under my touch that he’s close embarrassingly fast but I don’t mind, it’s his first time after all. We can always work on his stamina later.
”Relax baby and just enjoy this.” I encourage him to let go, massaging his thighs with my free hand to relax his strained muscles, slowing down my strokes but give special treatment to the tip collecting the forming precum. ”There’s no need for you to hold back.” I peck his hip picking up my pace again for a few moments longer before taking him into my mouth waiting for him to cum swirling my tongue over the tip repeatedly.
”Y-Y/N.” My name comes out in moans like a broken record when he finally lets all the tension seep away from his body letting the building pleasure force him into submission as he cums into my mouth his body goes limp when the pleasure fades away after I let him ride out his high with gentle licks.
I place the duvet over his sleepy form after I help him back into his clothes, tucking him in as I kiss his cheek to say ’sleep tight’ with the gesture.
I toss the food around on my plate in front of me tentatively listening to the conversation held between my parent and her guest but not engaging, sinking my fork into the broccoli angrily as I hear Natalie’s sugar-coated voice destined for only Jimin’s ears to catch.
She leeched herself onto him as soon as she stepped into this house annoying me with saying stuff like ’you have such a nice brother’ just to emphasise my relation to him. Even my mom takes her side saying that they look cute together.
I know she wants Jimin to socialise, that’s why this dinner is purposefully held in the first place but I can’t seem to show a different emotion than disgust when I look at Natalie trying to woo my Jimin. She will never know how he sounds when he’s about to blow his load or how he would taste against her tongue because only I can see that side of him no one else, and especially not her.
His ears are red from her constant compliments and I swear I even saw her hand grip his shoulder when she laughed about something my mom said, he shies away from her because he never kept a conversation going on with another girl that wasn’t me or my mom before but that doesn’t mean jealousy doesn’t bubble up in my chest when he doesn’t deny her advances explicitly.
The dinner continues for an awfully long time before I could excuse myself from the table to hide away in my room and peacefully start yelling into my pillow to relieve my pent up frustration throughout this unpleasant meal.
Either Jimin genuinely didn’t have a clue what she was implying or he was aware but fine with it I don’t want to waste any more time and watch her all over him. I continued sulking in my room when I heard a knock on my door grunting a ’yes’ before I resembled smashing my keyboard I suddenly felt the urge to complete that assignment I procrastinated on so I can keep my mind focused on something else.
I avert my gaze from the screen to see who’s my intruder but I refocus on my computer when I see it’s Jimin. I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now since the picture of Natalie all over him is the first image to enter my mind.
”What? Dinner’s over so soon?” I’m careful to use an unaffected tone when I speak up, holding myself back from making eye contact even though I would love to see his face, we haven’t got time all day to talk or cuddle at all since I had to help my mother all evening to prepare for this dinner that was a waste of time anyway.
Jimin stays silent not bothering to answer my question but I still refuse to look at him as I pretend to be absorbed in my work. Even if it’s far from reality when the only thing consuming my thoughts right now is that I want him to tell me no one else is going to touch him only I can make him feel that good. That he wants. No, needs only me.
”A-are you angry? Please don’t be.” I still don’t turn around and looks like it makes him desperate for my attention he thugs at my blouse but I don’t react.
I want him to panic take over his body so he won’t do this to me again. I have to busy my fingers with typing so I don’t move to card my fingers through his locks like I long to do when he lays his head on my lap kneeling on the ground to do so. I don’t push his head away but doesn’t react either.
Half an hour passes in this manner, only my typing is heard in the otherwise silent room Jimin’s head still resting on my thighs hands circling my waist. I’m halfway done with my assignment when I feel Jimin’s nose nudge my centre. I showered after I excused myself from the dinner to blow off some steam and calm down grabbing only a pair of underwear and a shirt to cover my body with.
Jimin placed a kiss on my clothed clit making my body jerk in surprise forcing me with his bold actions to finally look at him our gaze locks as soon as I look down. Jimin folds the sides of my blouse so he can get access to the rest of my underwear following my panty line with his nose.
”Can I make it up to you?” Jimin looks up with innocent eyes that have my stomach twist in excitement but I try not to show him how much he can affect me as well. I’ll still make him pay for his actions.
”So you know you did something wrong.” I scoff but it ends up in a gasp when he licks the front of my underwear without a warning.
I grip his hair to keep him in place holding him close enough so his head still rests on my thighs but not that close to letting him lick my centre again. He’s playing dangerous games right now but I don’t know if I have it in me to be gentle with him.
”You should stop before I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose my control.” I warn him through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a moment to focus on my breathing, his eyes grew bigger for a moment before the previous shocked expression morphs into something else.
He can’t reach my cunt from where he’s restrained by my hands so he licks the inner side of my thigh his teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin.
I loosen my grip on his hair smoothing the silky locks out of his eyes but he cleverly uses the gesture to scoot forward and have another taste placing a more confident lick stretching the rubberband side of my panty with his teeth sliding his hands over my stomach that was previously so obediently circling my waist.
”You don’t have to do it.” I remind him, feeling out of breath from his kitten licks over my clothed mound.
”I know.” Jimin replies with a sweet smile adorning his face before he pulls my underwear down my legs slowly, watching with interest as I part my legs so he can have a good look at my glistening core.
”The girls from the videos always like it when the boy does this.” Jimin murmurs under his breath absentmindedly before rubbing my clit with his fingertips his digits dipping lower to catch where most of my arousal gathers a single digit nudging my entrance. I part my legs more so he can get more comfortable between them I let him get familiar with my most intimate part before I pull his hand away with shaky fingers.
”Taste it.” I order for him to pop his fingers into his mouth licking my arousal clean from them and he doesn’t disappoint as he does.
Now that his fingers are coated with his saliva I guide it back to my core. ”Want your finger in me.” I throw my head back when he enters, my walls sucking his finger in his movements are inexperienced and uncoordinated but I let him experiment until he gets the hang of it, and oh when he does. His one finger turns into two soon as he finds the best way to pound into my wet cunt curling the digits just the right way to make me see stars. ”Doing so good Jiminie.” I tell him between heavy pants as the rhythmical hard thrusts of his fingers starts to become too much to handle I feel my insides tighten just like my walls tighten around his fingers getting closer and closer.
I open my eyes to watch him lean down his hair tickling my inner thighs as he nestles between my legs licking at my clit while the movement of his hand never falters, the new stimulus that his visual between my legs and his tongue on my nub adds to the feeling, making me come undone around his fingers.
”Stand up baby.” I motion for him to stand as well, his finger slips out of my hole, with a confused expression plastered on his face but doesn’t question my intentions as he obligates standing on his wobbly feet I let him sit down to where I was before straddling his hips.
”Are you going to let me ride your cock? Make you mine?” I ask him using my sweetest tones before slowly kissing his lips making sure to map out his mouth once more before turning my attention to kiss the expanse of his neck.
”Yes. Fuck yes.” The way how the curse word slipped through his mind without him noticing is endearing, he can always surprise me with something doesn’t matter how much time I dedicate to learning his body and soul, he’ll always have layers to discover. These good days sometimes even weeks when his illness hides its ugly face into the background are so precious that I wish we could always be like this.
I situate my body so I can pull his sweats down I pleasantly discover that he doesn’t wear his underwear when his dick slaps against his stomach. I reach for one of the drawers where I know I placed the lube.
I squeeze some into my hand before wrapping my fingers around his fully hardened shaft smearing the lube over him Jimin whines when he feels the cold liquid hit his hot member moaning once I roll my wrist the way he seems to like so much. Have enough of the foreplay I position him in front of my entrance making eye contact with him before taking him in letting him have the chance of backing out.
Jimin’s thighs shake as I take him in fully he tries muffling his moans by biting down on my shoulder so our guests don’t find out what we are doing in my room. With a smirk on my face, I roll my hips getting the best responses as Jimin tries to hold back his cries tightening his hold on my waist to slow my thrusts down but I don’t listen to him as I start to grind down on him letting his member pull out almost all the way before sinking down enjoying how good he fills me up.
I slow down as a knock is heard at my door Jimin’s eyes widen in fear but I don’t let him move an inch as I silently take my seat with his cock buried between my folds he holds back a moan when I clench around him.
”Mom?” I call out to her, my voice a bit shaky but I was able to mask it away enough that it doesn’t sound suspicious.
”Are you alright? Can I come in?” I hear her worried voice, she probably heard Jimin’s louder cries and she thinks something’s wrong. At this moment I’m really glad that my mom is very dense.
”I’m feeling unwell so I’m going to sleep immediately but you go and have fun with the guests don’t worry.” I offer her my reply as I circle my waist can’t keep still as Jimin’s dick feels heavenly it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does seeing how pathetically he tries to prevent my mother from hearing his moans but his innocent facade can’t fool me as I feel him twitch inside me as I talk to my mother while he’s balls deep in my cunt. I wonder if he wants us to get caught or that he would like me to fuck him in front of Natalie on our dining table so she can see she never had a chance with him.
”Fine but come and get me if you need anything.” She leaves with these last words without further protests and I thank her while bouncing on Jimin’s lap silencing his cries by kissing him hard.
”What mom would think if she saw you in this situation Jiminie? Fucking me while you pretend to be an angel in front of her. Kissing her cheek with the same lips that were buried between my legs moments prior.” I whisper next to the shell of his ear he lets out embarrassed whines but I can feel him enjoy how I fuck myself using him.
My thighs ache as I increase the pace feeling so close again I guide Jimin’s hand between our bodies to make him rub at my clit he does it messily but it’s enough stimulation as I cum again watching as Jimin’s eyes squeezed shut close to reach his own high.
#jimin smut#bts smut#jimin#park jimin#jimin fanfiction#jimin fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts#bts stepbrother au#bts filthy smut#sub jimin
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Hi, I saw the analyses of Talia and Bruce's relationship and (they were great to read) and also, I think you've mentioned O'Neil's idea to make Bruce a lone warrior before, but Bruce's slight personality shift the posts mentioned sounded like O'Neil's (I kind of compare it to the comics written by Bill Finger and the 1966 show) out of character justification for making Bruce a lone warrior and tbh that seems to be the same justification used in calling off Batman and Catwoman's wedding.
kind of, except that son of the demon (and by extension bride of the demon) was originally supposed to be followed by developments where bruce and ra's learned that damian was alive and tried to get to him before each other to influence his upbringing, so the overarching intent of the story wasn't actually to shape bruce into a lone warrior, it was at the time just meant to be a temporary separation. what ended up happening is that editorial plucked damian out of continuity, and barr was threatened not to use the concept of damian again else risk being fired (at least that's what he believed he would have been, according to one of his interviews, where he also mentioned he heard o'neil was pissed with son of the demon).
aside from that tho i think the reasoning for talia and selina rejecting or leaving bruce is a bit different. to me, talia rejects bruce bc he shuns his responsibility to the world, and that's not the right thing to do. yes, it ultimately does leave him as a "lone warrior", esp when damian is ripped out of continuity, but i don't think talia's intent was to render him a lone warrior, or to encourage his misery. we've seen her in plenty of comics prior express a desire to periodically value rest and comfort away from the trials and tribulations of the world, bc all-consuming neuroticism about needing to save the world can be unhealthy. that's one extreme. i think talia turns him away bc this child pushes him to another extreme, wherein all-consuming neuroticism about protecting his family leads him to abandon the need to save the world at all. talia doesn't need bruce to be someone so entrenched in misery he never looks up to smell the flowers; but just bc you can smell the flowers doesn't mean you should abandon all else either. the world is still impt, people still matter, and when we have power, we have obligations. altho operating off of a different set of circumstances, i think talia and bruce's conversation at the start of no man's land is also emblematic of that philosophy. she's willing to understand his misery due to recent events bc she knows that even before he's batman, he's just a human being. he's just bruce wayne. but she's also not going to let him use that misery as an excuse to give up on justice and the world, and i think she's ultimately right for that
the problem with the way king writes selina leaving bruce (and i think plenty of batcat fans would agree) is that her reasoning in-story is he can't be batman without the hurt and misery. that if he's allowed to be happy and if she's allowed to help him with the loneliness, he will somehow stop being batman. on a surface level it's a similar premise to sotd's, but where i think it falters is in the idea that misery is necessary to make bruce a hero. what makes bruce a hero is his compassion. he wants to prevent others from meeting the same fate as his parents bc he knows so many people don't deserve it, and bc he knows what it's like to be the one left behind. king's writing of that issue, to me, accounts for none of that. it's a bunch of flowery, ultimately meaningless prose that exposes the problem with the way he wrote bruce and selina's relationship to begin with: he viewed the core of their individual philosophies as a problem, and posited that their relationship with each other would solve that problem. there's a tweet of someone comparing king's execution to alan grant's execution in a trio of batcat issues the latter wrote back in the early 90s that sums it up well: "the irony is [bruce and selina] were perfect to each other in a way that the reader could see, but they would never touch the subject bc to do so would compromise their core - bat's devotion to justice and cat's lust for freedom. to assume either bruce or selina wouldn't know themselves and each other that well is insulting to every other writer to tackle the property." bruce and selina never needed to compromise their cores to have a rapport with each other or to be able to explore a relationship with each other (at least imo, they didn't). nor are their cores solely problematic. does bruce fall into bad habits bc of his duty to justice? sure. does selina sometimes do bad things in her quest for freedom? sure. but that doesn't mean bruce's desire for justice or selina's desire for freedom is all bad, and that good things can't come of either. there's plenty of comics that can prove that wrong (including those alan grant issues: batman #640-1, detective comics #612), and there are good things that come of those desires, too, most obviously their shared ability to save people. that, to me, is what king failed to account for in writing them (and i think it exposes the problem with king's writing at large; he just doesn't respect the mythos or genre he's writing within).
#talia al ghul#bruce wayne#selina kyle#brutalia#batcat#dc#mine:media analysis#asks#brutalia and batcat's writing pre 2000s is just on an entirely different level tbh. no one will ever compare
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Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 7 (aka the ‘big boobie vampire mommy’ and ’mutant servant girl that is very horny for her’ chapter)
WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.
(AO3 link below:)
“Good evening, sir. Is there something I can assist you with, tonight? It’s quite late, and my mistress has already retired for the evening due to the strenuous nature of today’s events, so while I’m sure the good Lady Dimitrescu won’t be too terribly displeased if you’ve come with urgent news that requires her immediate attention, I’m afraid anything outside the realm of absolute importance will have to wait until morning, when my mistress will be better rested and therefore better able to address whatever concern you’ve brought” The low and smooth voice of an older teenage girl said, staring slightly downward at Salvatore with a level of such blank indifference that he would have wondered if the girl hadn’t seen him had she not outright greeted him upon opening the door.
With piercing red eyes, dark skin and long, black curls tied up neatly and carefully into two thick buns on either side of the top of her head, and dressed in a pretty, but still practical dress, the older teen looked every bit as much the role of a dignified estate’s head servant as she acted, right down to the pencil straight stiffness of her body. Despite how uncomfortable the stiff position looked to Salvatore, the subtly bold way she carried herself did give the older teen an air of confidence and reliability, however what it didn’t do was answer the multitude of questions flying around in Salvatore’s head about who she was, and more importantly, where she came from.
And then it hit him.
“Y-you’re… Alcina’s g-gift… aren’t y-you?” Salvatore asks aloud, though seemingly more to himself than the girl standing in front of him. Said girl furrows her brows in confusion for a moment before huffing in, what appeared to be, mild offense. Though what on earth Salvatore could have done to offend the young teen, he had absolutely no idea.
“I have no idea what you mean when talking about these so called “gifts”, however I think it's important for you to know that I am a very busy woman with a great many things to do, so if this is all some kind of sick game you’re playing to waste my time then I’m going to have to politely ask that you take your rotten whale behind and go throw yourself into the nearest body of-”
“Anastasia?” a low, feminine voice booms from somewhere behind the older teen standing before him. The girl immediately stiffens, her skin around her nose and cheeks darkening even further, her eyes growing wide and her breath catching in her throat as she turns around. Immediately abandoning Salvatore at the still open front door, the young servant clumsily made her way further into the room before disappearing out of the narrow view the hooded man had been given of the castle through the crack in the door.
Taking a step forward and opening the door enough to slip inside, making sure to close it securely behind him, Salvatore lingered along the walls of the room, merely observing the events before him unfold as the young girl, Anastasia, quickly moved to stand in the center of the circular design on the floor of the entrance hall. Waiting for her on the landing at the top of the stairs was none other than the lady of the house herself, Alcina Dimitrescu, standing as tall, proud, and intimidating as Salvatore last remembers, though it would appear that the disfigured man’s fear of the much larger woman was not shared amongst everyone in the room.
“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu! Is there something I can do for you this evening, my Lady?” Anastasia asks, hands clasped together in front of her and eyes blown wide at the gargantuan woman leering from above, like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a command from its beloved owner. Eager to perform. Eager to please.
“Why yes, my sweet, I was just wondering what on earth all that racket was and if it could wait until morning to be finished? The girls and I have had quite the taxing day and I do so wish to retire to the sound of peace and quiet” Alcina coos warmly, causing Salvatore to pause in confusion.
“Oh goodness, I apologize, mistress. It’s just that there was a visitor at the door and despite my repeated attempts to convince him to come back when you were rested, he insisted upon making a nuisance of himself. Please forgive me if my attempts to preserve your restful evening were for naught” the girl said sadly, bowing deeply in apology as she continued to speak.
Alcina practically purrs in delight at the teen’s polite, but genuine behavior. “Fear not, my dear, I had only just taken off my earrings when I heard the commotion. I came out here merely to see if things were getting out of control, but it would appear as though you’ve handled things perfectly.”
The girlish blush on Anastasia’s face only darkens in color as the young teen casts her adoring gaze to the floor, joyous glee from having been praised by her mistress evident all over the younger girl’s body.
Not wanting to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary, especially if this is what he’d have to witness the whole time, Salvatore gathers all of his strength and uses it to clear his throat and take a step forward, revealing himself to both women as he gingerly comes out into the light.
“YOU!” Anastasia yells, immediately turning on her heel and making a beeline toward the increasingly anxious Salvatore. “So not only have you made enough of a nuisance of yourself to disturb the lovely Lady Dimitrescu just as she’s about to retire and rest from a very long and taxing day, but now you’ve decided that you’re so above everyone else that you can just waltz right into someone else’s home without even the slightest hint of respect or admiration for the incredible woman living in it, how dare you be so crash and selfish you overcooked blowfish, exit this castle immediately, or I’ll shove my boot so far up your rear end you’ll be fishing around for it for weeks you-”
“Anastasia, calm yourself, dear” the loud, but calming sound of Alcina’s voice said, causing the young teen to pause in her angry scolding of Salvatore.
“My Lady?” The young teen asks, dutifully awaiting orders.
“Let the wretched man inside, he’s the furthest thing from a threat to us, even if he is an annoying little manthing. Although, I’d be lying if I said a visit from you at this hour of night is something I’ve come to expect of you, dearest elder brother.”
The disfigured man swallowed thickly as he stepped past Anastasia to fully face his other younger sister, who looked all the more intimidating from her looming perch upon the upper story.
“I-I know this is s-sudden…” Salvatore begins, hoping he’d at least be able to explain himself before Alcina tossed him back outside on his ass.
“I’ll certainly say” Anastasia bursts in angrily, but she’s quickly silenced and sent away to tend to her other duties by Alcina, who motions for Salvatore to ascend the large set of stairs leading up to the rest of the castle and join her on the landing for a moment.
“Spunky little thing, isn’t she?” Alcina says when Salvatore finally makes it to the top of the stairs, panting slightly as he follows the much taller mutant’s gaze to the door that Anastasia had just exited the room from.
“Th-that’s certainly… one way… o-of putting it” Salvatore stutters, not wanting to offend Alcina by calling her servant rude, but clearly not seeing what’s so great about someone who just yells at you a lot the second you walk through the door.
“Yes! She apparently received a strain of cadou that was quite similar to mine, however her need to consume blood to maintain herself is far more similar to that of leeches. Rather than having to consume it regularly in smaller doses, like myself, she’ll only require one feeding every few weeks or so, which I thought was quite interesting. The only issues Mother Miranda brought up was the fact that her hunger, if it gets bad enough, can trigger both her transformation, as well as some sort of feral and animalistic meltdown that only ends once she’s finally had her fill. Apparently more than a few villagers were lost in the process of learning this information” Alcina comments casually, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mother only brought her over earlier today, just before dinner, and yet she’s already managed to carve quite the little space for herself here. I hadn’t realized how dirty this place was without any girls left to take from the village until she went through and washed all the walls in the west wing spotless. It was like night and day, I could hardly believe how open and bright the halls looked” Alcina stated.
“W-wow… so th-then… d-do you think y-you’ll keep her a-around… long term?” Salvatore asks curiously, craning his neck so he could get a better look at his sister’s face.
“Perhaps. I’m certainly thinking about it. Not only is she an incredibly hard and fast worker, but she’s also got such a lovely spark of energy and excitement to her, and she’s always very polite and respectful, if a bit obvious in her “admiration” of those she looks up to… not that that’s a bad thing, necessarily. It’s quite sweet, actually!”
“S-she did look… q-quite taken… by y-you” Salvatore comments, having noticed the girl’s far-too-eager-to-be-innocent disposition when Alcina was in the room, vs. when it was just him. Not that it was a terribly surprising turn of events. Alcina, for all her monstrous height and sheer mutant bulk, was still a very beautiful, and very desirable woman at the end of the day, meanwhile Salvatore was only about 2 rolls of the genetic dice away from sharing a more recent common ancestor with the blobfish than he did humans.
“I know, isn’t she adorable? She came exactly like this, too. Mother Miranda has no idea if this is a result of the mutation process or if it's merely her former personality finally returning now that she’s awake and out of containment, but I suppose the logistics of things aren’t really important in the end. I'm so glad I chose her over the other two, I don’t know what I would have done had such a promising and delectable little morsel like her go to waste on the rest of you imbeciles” Alcina coos in amusement. “Regardless of what Mother Miranda said however, I was almost certain this whole “gift” situation was going to be nothing more than a pile of useless drivel that I’d be left to clean up all on my own once the novelty wore off, however after having Anastasia here for these past few hours, and seeing all that she’s willing and capable of doing, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I’d been too hasty in my final decision.”
“Funny… K-Karl thought m-much the… th-the same thing i-initially… w-when I t-talked to him… th-the other day… th-though… knowing him… I doubt h-he’s having q-quite as much… of a ch-change of heart… as you a-are” Salvatore said suddenly, more than anything due to the incredible shock that was the concept of Alcina and Karl sharing a similar opinion, at the same time, while both occupying the same dimension of reality.
Alcina’s face immediately turns sour at the mention of Karl. “Oh, did he now? That’s an unfortunate thing to learn,” she says in annoyance, clearly displeased by the notion of agreeing with Karl on anything.
“Y-yes… he… he th-thinks that maybe… M-Mother might b-be using the g-gifts… to d-distract us w-while she’s g-gone away… o-on her mission… b-but that maybe… sh-she also wants… s-something else out of a-all this… something… th-that she isn’t t-telling us… f-for some reason” Salvatore explains, unsure if he should be revealing all this information to Alcina, notorious and open critic of Karl and quite literally everything the younger man has ever done and said, is doing and saying, and will do and say sometime in the span of his chaotic lifespan.
Contrary to what Salvatore assumed, however, instead of looking bored and uninterested in what Karl thought about this whole situation, Alcina looked just the slightest bit… intrigued, if still clearly wary. “Really? And what, pray tell, does our dear sweet little brother Heisenberg believe will come of this whole situation then? Did he say?”
“H-he… he never m-mentioned anything s-specific… but he th-thinks that the g-gifts… might p-play a l-larger role… in all th-this… than M-Mother has been l-leading us to believe.”
“I see,” Alcina says, remaining silent for a moment as she thinks, looking almost concerned by what she’s heard. “And what do you think of this whole mess, Salvatore?”
“U-um… well… I-I think it’s nice… th-that Mother trusts us e-enough… to g-give us her p-previous experiments… and u-use them however w-we want… b-but I’d be l-lying if I s-said… that I d-didn’t think Karl… was o-onto something… I-I don’t know w-what I believe to be t-true a-at the moment… but I d-do know… th-that I’d like t-to give… g-give a gift of m-my own… to Nadine… and that… and that y-you might be… s-someone else who c-could help me… w-with that” the hooded man explains nervously, hoping that Alcina was in a good enough mood to feel like humoring him and his sudden request.
“Nadine?” The tall, pale woman asks in confusion, before suddenly nodding in understanding. “Ah, your gift…”
Salvatore nods. “D-Donna… is f-fashioning a n-new dress… for her… a-and even gave me… this b-beautiful nightgown… to hold h-her over until… until the real one is c-complete. I th-think she w-will… e-enjoy the nightgown b-but… but I’d like to… l-like to get her something else t-too… like a… like a necklace… a-a gold one… o-one that w-would… c-complement her skin tone… j-just right.”
Alcina briefly stares at Salvatore with a blank expression, momentarily making the hooded man worry that he’d overstepped his boundaries and said something to offend the much larger woman. His nerves are thankfully calmed when Alcina turns and orders Salvatore to follow after her, which the disfigured man happily does if it means what he thinks it means.
The two siblings arrive at Alcina’s personal chambers just as Anastasia is exiting them, her arms filled by a large basket of blood soaked towels and clothes, some collected from Alcina’s room, the others likely from either Bela, Cassandra, or Daniela’s rooms.
“Good evening, Lady Dimitrescu! Are you finally retiring for the evening?” Anastasia asks, bowing cheerfully as she finally notices her mistress approaching her. “I’ve already gone ahead and prepared your bed for you, as well as collected all the soiled laundry from today’s harvest. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”
“Thank you, my dear, but not quite, I have one more matter to attend to before I fully turn in. Since you were so kind to offer however, I would greatly appreciate it if, once Lord Moreau and I are finished with our affairs, you would be so kind as to escort him to the front door and bid him a good night, for me. You are free to retire to your own chambers for the evening once he’s left” Alcina orders softly, which the young girl obediently nods her head to.
“Of course, mistress, thank you very much! And I’d be happy to see Lord Moreau out for you, so please don’t hesitate to call me once you’re finished with your meeting” Anastasia says, bowing lowly to both Alcina and Salvatore before wordlessly skittering off to do… whatever it was she planned on doing to those dirty garments.
“Now, about that gift you were talking about” Alcina says upon entering her personal bedroom, immediately striding over to her vanity and beginning to sift through several boxes worth of jewelry, “you said you wanted gold, correct? And a necklace specifically?”
“Y-yes! I-if you have anything y-you’re willing to… g-give away… of course… I’d feel t-terrible taking something i-if it meant a g-great deal to you” Salvatore answers, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he waits for Alcina to return to him with whatever she finds.
Of all 3 of his siblings, Alcina was the one Salvatore was easily the least close to, despite having been the only two around for a considerable amount of time before the eventual arrivals of both Donna and then Karl. It wasn’t that Salvatore was displeased when Mother Miranda first informed him that he’d be getting a “sibling” all those years ago, but Alcina’s natural personality, coupled with her terrifying size and strength from the mutations, had made the very meek and timid Salvatore hesitant to reach out and form any kind of sibling bond with the younger woman, like he had with Karl.
Karl was a royal pain in the ass to deal with on even his best days, but at the end of it all, there’s still only so much a 6 year old can do to you, anger issues and mutant metal bending powers or not. Alcina was both a royal pain in the ass to deal with more often than not, but also a fully grown adult when she first joined the family, so needless to say the 2 oldest siblings hadn’t been given very many appropriately opportune moments to bond or get along.
That being said however, the simple but elegant golden locket that Alcina procures from one of her many boxes of jewelry has Salvatore wondering if maybe he had misjudged Alcina, having never expected her to show him something as luxurious and real-looking as this, especially when the understanding was that she’d be giving it away whatever item of jewelry Salvatore took a liking to.
“This is an old locket I received for my 3rd birthday from a relative who died long before I was old enough to care about who they were, though all those diamond star details on the front do make me think they could have been close with us at one point, or perhaps they just had that much money to throw around? It’s an old and well-loved piece of my collection, but Duke has been bringing back such wonderful treasures from his travels that I just have to start getting rid of some of these old sentimental trinkets so I can make room for all the new additions I plan on purchasing once he finally returns” Alcina explains, gingerly handing the necklace over to Salvatore, who could do nothing but gawk at how extravagant and, to be perfectly honest, expensive the necklace looked.
With 4 small diamonds, likely real knowing Alcina, embedded into the surface of the locket’s front cover, surrounded by small engravings that give the glimmering stones the appearance of stars in the night sky, the necklace looked like it belonged upon the neck of a fair and noble princess, into which the radiant beauty could then place the photo of the man who’d stollen her innocent heart. Nadine wasn’t actually a princess and Salvatore all but gagged at the idea of a picture of his face, mutated or not, being put somewhere for anyone to see, however the necklace was far too perfect for the hooded man to possibly turn it down.
“So what do you think? Will something like this do?” The taller woman asks, curiously. “I could continue looking if that isn’t quite what you’re after, however if that is the case, then I would like to politely request that you come back and look at them tomorrow. It's already so late and I’d have to have the rest of my collection fetched from the vault downstairs.”
“N-no no… th-that’s alright… this i-is perfect… thank y-you… Alcina… this w-was very k-kind of you to do… f-for me” Salvatore says, carefully tucking the glittering necklace into the bag Donna had placed the nightgown in.
“Don’t fret about it too much, I only did it because I had a bit of time to spare prior to going to bed, and you happened to catch me in a good mood. That’s it” Alcina states firmly, though something in the back of Salvatore’s head can’t help but take the taller woman’s words with a grain of salt, feeling as though there was more to Alcina’s sudden generosity than just pure coincidence. “Besides, who knows what gaudy thing you’d have shown up with had you not made the surprisingly wise decision to invoke Donna’s and my vastly superior knowledge of the feminine experience. I don’t even want to think of what tacky little trinket you’d have tried to gift her. Why the thought of that alone is enough to make me want to run for the hills, how on earth do you think your poor little gift would have felt? I’d have had to murder you on the spot if I found out you tried to pass some disgusting pile of garbage off as an appropriate gift. In fact, if I didn’t know that Donna was working on a more fitting dress for her already, I’d have half a mind to skin you alive for only having a flimsy nightgown to take back with you, but I doubt any of the dresses I have, that would be appropriate to wear with that kind of necklace anyways, would come close to fitting her, and I really do want to start making room for some newer, more exciting pieces. So, with all that in mind, count your blessings that the stars have aligned in your favor tonight, dear brother, because I won’t be doing this for you again… unless, you’d be willing to do me a few favors in exchange for some of the other pieces of my collection, that is.”
Aaaaaaaaaaand there’s the Alcina that Salvatore knows and secretly likes. In vehement denial that she feels anything positive for her 3 siblings and also actively trying to get someone else to do her dirty work for her. It's certainly not how the hooded man prefers to operate, but he supposes that if Alcina can somehow convince everyone around her to do all of her work for her, why wouldn’t she take advantage of that as much as possible?
“I-I think that’s e-enough… for t-tonight actually… maybe i-if I decide I’d l-like to get her s-something else… I’ll c-consider that offer y-you brought up” Salvatore says, bowing politely to his sister as he makes his desire to leave obvious.
Thankfully, Alcina seems more than happy to send her older brother on his way, calling Anastasia to come lead Salvatore back to the front door so he could finally begin making his way home.
“Th-thank you again… Alcina… I really a-appreciate this… an-and I'm sure Nadine w-will love the gift t-too” Salvatore says just as he’s about to bid Alcina goodnight and begin following the young servant girl.
“Yes, yes, you’re very grateful of my wondrous kindness to you, I know, you’ve made that fact more than clear already, brother” the taller woman says with an only mildly annoyed roll of her eyes as she stands just outside the door to her chambers. “Just make sure you don’t waste the opportunity my graciousness has afforded you, do you understand?”
Salvatore stiffens nervously as Alcina shoots him a pointed look that screams ‘don’t fuck this up or I’ll fuck you up’, a threat which the hooded man knows she’ll make good on, should Salvatore make it necessary for her to do so. Salvatore wasn’t sure how Alcina had picked up on the nature of his budding affections for Nadine so quickly, or how she seemed to instinctively know what he was planning despite having never asked directly, but clearly she’d noticed something and was now in the process of making the matter of whether Salvatore successfully courted his gift her business.
Heavens above have mercy upon whomever is unlucky enough to have their problematic situation noticed and meddled with by Alcina Dimitrescu.
“Y-yes… I u-understand… an-and I’ll be s-sure not to w-waste... waste the g-golden opportunity you’ve g-given me… OH! An-and Donna w-wants her mannequins b-back... too… sh-she wanted m-me to tell y-you” Salvatore replies, his anxiety only mildly calmed when Alcina makes a face at the mention of Donna’s yet-to-be-returned-still mannequins.
“Oh for goodness sakes, I always forgot about those stupid things. Anastasia?”
“Yes, Mistress?” The young servant dutifully answers.
“Please make a note to remind me to have Heisenberg come by so he can collect and return the manequins Donna leant me while I was commissioning some dresses from her earlier this month. That foul-mouthed mutt owes me a favor, and so if all goes the way I’d like I’ll be making this his problem in the morning” Alcina says devilishly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Of course, Lady Dimitrescu, I’ll be sure to remind you of that first thing tomorrow morning” Anastasia replies warmly, though her amicable grin is quickly replaced by a flush and a girlish giggle when Alcina waves and turns on her heel, swaying her hips in an obvious fashion before bending down to enter through the door of her chambers.
Salvatore passed exceptionally confused glances back and forth between his sister and the young servant standing in front of him, totally clueless as to what just unfolded a moment ago as a feeling of disgust, the kind you get when you see something you wish you hadn’t, began to curl in the pit of his stomach. Whatever it was that was going on in the Dimitrescu house, and more importantly with their new servant girl, it was clearly none of Salvatore’s business. Not that he’d wanted it to be in the first place.
Salvatore had enough problems to deal with regarding his own gift, he didn’t have time to worry about whether or not Alcina was already making moves on hers.
“Have a safe journey home, and do make sure to stop by with Nadine if things turn out well between the two of you. Based on how today played out, it would seem as though things are about to get a lot more interesting around here… and a lot more fun too. Goodnight, Dear Brother” is all Alcina says before gently closing the door to her chambers, effectively ending their conversation without so much as a single word from Salvatore, not that he minded being handed the chance to finally get out of here, especially after… whatever the hell that exchange between Alcina and Anastasia was.
Best not to think too hard about it, probably, especially when there was another woman back at the reservoir who was much more deserving of Salvatore’s lustful and impure musings.
“Uuum… the front door is this way… Lord Moreau,” Anastasia says suddenly, her face still dark from embarrassment, though whether it was from her earlier treatment of him before she learned he was another Lord and not just some random man from the village, or from… that thing he just saw that he doesn’t feel like thinking about anymore, the hooded man couldn’t tell.
Nor did he particularly care to find out.
#Salvatore moreau#resident evil#resident evi 8#Resident evil village#Resident evil 8 village#resident evil 8: village#karl heisenberg#alcina dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#mother miranda#re#re8#salvatore moreau x reader#Moreau x reader#salvatore Moreau x oc#Moreau x oc#fic#Mine#beauty and her beast#Chapter 7#The duke#the duke re8
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Dincember - December 4: Hot Chocolate
summary: Mando has unique ways of showing his affection for his son, like getting him hyper on too many cups of hot chocolate, but it’s only after a long day of bringing the kid down from his sugar high that you realize Mando has similar ways of showing how much he cares for you.
pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader
warnings: a caffeine addiction, sleep deprivation, the smallest sexual innuendo, Din being sweeter than hot chocolate, not super well edited ahaha
word count: 3.2k
a/n: asdfghkldf this is so so late but this week has been long and exhausting (no this fic was definitely NOT me projecting), and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to write :/. I’m not even really sure this makes sense, but that’s kind of how my brain works when it’s exhausted, so hopefully on some level that’s accurate ahaha
***
You never understood the appeal of caf until you joined Mando’s crew.
The first time someone offered you a cup, that one day you showed up to the tiny mechanic shop of your first job with bags under your eyes, complaining about how little sleep you’d gotten the night before, you thought you’d been handed a steaming cup of motor oil by accident instead.
The dark liquid felt like lava on the roof of your mouth, leaving the taste of bitter ash on your tongue as you willed sip after sip down your throat. It did pull you out of the sleep-deprived fog, but it was more of a jolt in the opposite direction than a gentle tug, your body shooting into overdrive and hands shaking so intensely you burned your fingers on your soldering iron more times than you could count that day.
After that, you tried to stay away from caf as much as possible. No matter how little you’d slept the night before, how often you were caught staring blankly at the wall instead of untangling a mess of wires, you always refused when you saw a mug of hellfire coming your way. The acrid taste, the jitters, none of it was worth enduring when you just had to make it to closing before you could go home and sleep away the fatigue.
But now, your full time job is taking care of a child, and every night is a night with too little sleep. You spend your days trying to wrangle a warm, mischievous demon into compliance instead of just manipulating cold scraps of metal, and the kid doesn’t have “closing hours”- not with how violently he reacts to the notion of bedtime- so there’s never a sweet finish line to look forward to at the end of the day.
You thought you’d known exhaustion before, felt it heavy on your shoulders those months you worked overtime to make ends meet, but that was light years away from what you feel now. The black hole of sleep consumes you as soon as you get the chance to lie down, and when you inevitably wake to the sound of cries a few hours later, it feels like the weight of the galaxy is crushing your lungs, making it nearly impossible to crawl back out of bed.
So after just a few weeks on the Crest, after that one day when you accidentally dozed off watching the kid play and woke to find him sticking a finger into the barrel of a blaster (thankfully Mando had the sense not to keep his weapons loaded on the ship or Maker, that could’ve ended badly), you bought a caf maker on the next planet and forced yourself to chug a cup every morning since.
The taste still sucks, no matter how much cream you’ve tried mixing in, but it doesn’t make you jittery like it used to, the caffeine just enough to keep you awake, and now you don’t know how you ever took care of the little womp rat without it, especially on the days when Mando returns from his hunts and the child bursts with energy to welcome his father home.
Even if it’s only been a couple days since Mando left, you’d think he’d been gone for months with the way they act at seeing each other again. The kid’s just downright ecstatic, dropping whatever part he’s playing with as soon as he hears the hiss of the hull opening and babbling excitedly as he runs into his father’s arms. He’ll follow Mando’s every move for at least an hour after he’s returned, and sometimes, you have to literally pry him from the beskar so Mando can retreat to the cockpit and set the course to the next planet.
And then there’s Mando. He’ll look stoic as ever as he takes the child into his arms, but you can feel how eager he is to reunite with his son, his affection all but spilling out the sides of his armored chest. He’ll never admit it, of course, you’re not sure he’d even be able to find the words to say it if he wanted to, but he finds other ways to show the kid how much he missed him, how deeply he cares about his little foundling.
More often than not, those methods include spoiling the child to no end, giving into the kid’s every desire and providing him with a few moments of pure, unrestrained joy. And more often than not, you’re left with the not-so-simple task of dealing with the consequences of giving the child his every wish, easing him down from the euphoric high and re-establishing that he absolutely cannot expect that kind of indulgence with anyone but his father.
Like one time, Mando stayed awake with him all night long, conceding five more minutes every time the kid whined when he was told it was time for bed. Five minutes quickly turned into hours as they watched the bright mosaic of hyperspace go by, the kid so happy to just sit in Mando’s lap while he spoke in the soothing tones of his people’s tongue. You were only able to pull the child from his father’s arms in the early hours of the morning, all three of you only half conscious at that point, and you spent several cycles trying to get the kid (and yourself) back on a normal sleep schedule.
Or like today, when Mando returned this morning while it was still dark outside, and you woke to the smell of cocoa and peppermint what felt like mere minutes after you’d fallen asleep. When you finally pulled yourself from the bunk, you found Mando sitting next to the child as they sipped on steaming liquid, his helmet tilted back just enough for him to bring the mug to his lips.
He made the kid hot chocolate, you realized from the way the child threw back his bowl so quickly he left milky brown splotches on his face. Of course. Mando had made a habit of bringing sweets back for his son after he’d once gotten his hands on a chocolate bar you’d splurged on in the market, nearly bouncing off the walls with glee as he devoured the entire thing in seconds. That was a memorable day for all of you: the kid found his new favorite snack, Mando found another way to indulge the child, and you found out that when the kid has sugar in his system, you need caf more than water to survive the day.
So it’s no surprise that several hours and a couple more servings of hot chocolate later, long after Mando’s gone to the cockpit to fly to the next planet, you’re chasing the tiny ball of energy around the hull, running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caf mixed with a little bit of spite, worried you might collapse before the sugar-fueled monster falls asleep.
You have half a mind to be mad at Mando for getting the kid so hyped up on the decadent drink and inevitably making your job that much harder, but you can’t get the image of them together this morning out of your head, Mando dabbing the mess from the child’s face as giggles bubbled from his tiny mouth. The memory’s shaded with the golden haze of dawn, like those dreams that feel warm and familiar, and you can feel your heart swell re-imagining that moment of perfect bliss, father and son so content just to be with each other and the sweetness in their cups.
And oh, you know you could never be upset at Mando for indulging the kid, creating those little pockets of warmth in a life filled mostly by cold, dead space, no matter how much more work it makes for you. Not when you know that he savors those moments as much as the child, that the days he’s back with his son are the only times he doesn’t have to be tough and menacing and deadly, the Crest the only place he doesn’t have to armor up his feelings just as much as his body.
You’re willing to reign in the kid, be the tough one on the ship, if it means Mando can show his son the softness that lies beneath the beskar, tuck away the sharp edges when he holds the little green menace in his lap. You’re willing to lose weeks of sleep course-correcting after each indulgence if it means he can let the honey of his love ooze thick and messy before he’s off to the next quarry and has to lock his affection behind iron walls again. You’re even willing to drink all the caf in the galaxy, let cup after cup burn bitter down your throat, if it means he can have a moment of peace sipping hot chocolate with his son at the break of dawn.
You’re more than willing, happy even, to do all that and more for him, especially if it means you can catch glimpses of the man behind the guise of “Mando” in the process, a man whose heart you’ve found yourself wondering more and more about lately, wondering if it might one day beat strong and steady for you the same way it does for the kid.
So no, you’re not mad at Mando, not in the slightest. It’s more that right now you’re worried you might not be physically able to do those things for him, the shorter than usual night of sleep catching up with you faster than you can fight it off with caf. You’re pretty sure it stopped working after your third cup anyway, the additional caffeine just making you dizzy and no more energized, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the child’s pace. You’ve played peekaboo and thrown around his favorite silver ball and even tried to show him how to rewire an old generator (not that you had any luck with that), and he still hasn’t crashed from his sugar high.
You have no idea what else to do to keep the child busy, and Maker, you’re just so kriffing tired right now, so you’ve resorted to leaning against the door of the weapons closet, floating in that hazy space on the brink of consciousness, using what little of your energy remains to make sure he at least won’t get his hands on a blaster again.
You’re not even completely sure what the kid’s doing right now, just know he’s somewhere on the other side of the hull, and you can only hope that Mando doesn’t come down here and find you and the kid like this. The last thing you want to do is make him worry, doubt how much you care about his son’s well being, but it’s like he can feel your exhaustion radiating through the ship because the next thing you know, the heavy echoes of his boots fill the hull as he descends the ladder from the cockpit.
You will yourself to sit up straighter as you hear his footsteps getting louder, locate the child before Mando can, but your body is working on a little bit of a lag, and by the time you actually open your eyes, Mando’s walking past you, the child snoring softly in his arms.
Of course he fell asleep as soon as you took eyes off of him, the little monster.
Mando doesn’t say anything as he tucks the child into his makeshift bed before striding back to the other side of the hull, and some faraway part of your brain tells you to explain yourself or apologize or say kriffing anything at this point, but the inky gravity of sleep is pulling you in deeper with each passing moment, and you can’t be bothered to speak when your eyes are threatening to droop shut again.
They must have at some point because you don’t remember seeing Mando approach you, but somehow he’s in front of you now, holding a mug out in front of your face. Maker, you must’ve drifted off, long enough for him to decide you needed some help staying awake and make you a cup of caf, and as you reach for it instinctively, bringing the cup to your lips in the trained motion, you can’t decide if it’s just as a thoughtful gesture or a thinly veiled warning for you to actually do your job.
You hum as the warm liquid coats your tongue, deliciously silky and slightly sweet, and it’s only when you swallow, the milky substance gliding down your throat, that you realize-
“This isn’t caf,” you mumble, looking up from the mug to meet Mando’s gaze.
“I never said it was.”
You just stare at him wordlessly, trying to figure out why he made you hot chocolate when it’s not going to make you any more functional. You have no idea how long you sit there thinking, too far gone to even understand the concept of time right now, but it must be a while because he breaks the silence first with a sigh.
“Cyar’ika, you have to stop drinking that crap. It’s not good for you.”
“Need it,” you respond, almost too quickly considering how long it took you to answer him before. Apparently the only thing you can understand in this groggy fog is your caf addiction. “Gonna fall asleep if not.”
“You’re about to anyway. Come on, you need to sleep.”
For some reason you giggle at that, unable to stop the laughter rising through your chest. He’s right, of course, but it just seems so damn funny right now that Mando, who has told you he rarely sleeps when he’s away, who you’ve never seen rest for more than an hour at a time, is telling you that you’re the one that needs sleep.
“You sleep even less than me, Mando. You can’t talk,” you accuse.
He jerks his helmet back in something like disbelief, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again.
“Well I’m not the one falling asleep on the floor right now,” he counters.
“That’s fair,” you admit. You take a few more sips of the hot chocolate, closing your eyes in pleasure as the warmth floods your veins. Maybe it’s just because you’re so used to the sharp bite of caf, but the sugary drink feels so good, like something comforting and familiar though you can’t quite place your finger on where you recognize it from. It’s almost like you’re wrapped up in the thickest blanket or, even better, by strong arms as you’re lulled to sleep, and you’re not sure that’s what you were thinking of, but you realize that’s exactly what you want right now.
And then your stupid, half-conscious brain decides to ask for it in the worst way possible.
“How about this, I’ll sleep if you sleep with me.”
You only catch how kriffing suggestive it sounds as the words come tumbling out of your mouth, but then all at once, you’re utterly aware of how much you’ve been embarrassing yourself. First getting caught falling asleep on the job and then accidentally making a very blunt pass at your boss, and Maker, you’re just a whole ass mess today aren’t you? Suddenly you feel very awake, your eyes going wide as you stumble over your words trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.
“Oh stars, I didn’t mean sleep with me, that’s definitely not what I, well, not that I wouldn’t…no, I just- I do need sleep but so do you, even if you’re not actually falling asleep right now, so I was just gonna say that we should both-”
But then your rambling is cut off by a chuckle coming from the modulator, his voice light and playful in a way you’ve never heard before.
If you weren’t so kriffing worried about what he was thinking about you right now, you might’ve thought it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.
“I know what you meant, cyar’ika,” he says.
Oh, thank Maker, you think, waves of something like relief washing warm over your body. You’re not quite sure how he can understand what it is you want when you can’t even articulate it yourself, but your brain is still too foggy to care, deciding it doesn’t really matter how he knows you so well, just that he does.
Mando eases the mug from your hands, the worn leather of his gloves brushing lightly over your knuckles. You whine in protest as he steals the liquid comfort from your fingers, but it’s quickly replaced by his hands wrapping around yours to help you off the ground.
“I’ll make you more tomorrow,” he assures you, his voice as velvety as the drink he just took from your grasp. “But now, we need to sleep.”
We, not you.
You barely catch the distinction as he leads you to the bunk while his thumb rubs soothing circles on your lower back, but it just leaves you even more confused in your sleepy daze. You didn’t think he was actually going to entertain your suggestion, even if he did take it in the more innocent way, and when you crawl into the bunk and he doesn’t follow, you think maybe you just misheard him.
But as you close your eyes, your exhaustion starting to pull you away from reality again, you hear the clang of metal on metal behind you, and a gentle tap on your calf halts your descent into the stillness of sleep as Mando climbs into the bunk next to you.
It’s only after he shuts the door, when your body is pressed to his so you both fit in the tiny space, that you realize he’s taken his armor off, the first time he’s ever done so in front of you. You can’t see him at all in the darkness of the bunk, you’re not sure you could even open your eyes again at this point anyway, but even in your delirium you can grasp the weight of how vulnerable he’s making himself right now, letting you run your fingers lazily across the tight muscles of his bicep and rest your head against his broad chest.
And once again, you’re overcome by the feeling of something pleasant and vaguely familiar, your heart swelling the same way it did when you first saw Mando and the child this morning, the same warmth in your veins as the first sip of hot chocolate. You couldn’t quite place it before, but for some reason, as you listen to the way his heart beats strong and steady against you, you think you finally recognize it, the way Mando’s been making you feel all day, the reason he knew exactly what you needed before you could even realize it yourself.
It’s just a hazy flash in the moment before the black hole of sleep finally consumes you, an inkling of a breakthrough you may or not remember tomorrow, but you think this feeling, the acrid taste of caf replaced by smooth chocolate on your tongue, a strong body turned soft as it’s molded to yours, has a four letter name you thought you and Mando only saved for the child.
Maybe that’s why you’re learning to use it for each other too.
#dincember#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian x you#din djarin x you#din djarin#*drops this and runs away in shame*#ahaha this took so long to write and for what?#asdfghkl don't roast me too bad lmao#emi writes
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get this popular I dare you
Grapes are objectively and literally the best fruit (technically berry) in the whole wide world, nothing else can convince me otherwise. I will state why i think this and why you bitches opinions are invalid and wrong as fuck. First of all I would like to start by saying that you get more grapes buying a bundle then you do apples, bananas or even peaches. Therefore it is a perfect average snack to enjoy oneself with while doing activities. It is easy to store as they are small and you can choose how many you store into the containers you use, unlike with apples which you have to put effort into cutting. Another great thing about grapes is their perfect size, not too big that you get left with pieces left over, not like with bananas where you get left with scrapes, just a perfect size that leaves you with no trace or mess to pick up. That sounds fucking great right? Right?! Another amazing and fabulous thing about grapes is their texture, they provide you with a scrumptious liquid to hydrate your body with while also simultaneously giving you a delicious flavour for your throbbing taste buds. I swear let your tongue fuck those grapes or else life isn’t worth being real. It’s almost perfect how the thin layer of skin on the grape keeps it well and protected, like it was just made to be popped between your teeth. It’s almost as satisfying as cotton candy dissolving in your mouth, or popping candy. Speaking of candy must i remind you that grapes are objectively better than chocolate or any sort of candy/lolly or whatever you fucking call it. Also- WINE. Yes I was going to get to this part, without grapes we wouldn’t have wine, which would be a fucking disaster, therefore we should give more respect and privilege to the common grape, by divulging ourselves and feasting on their brothereen.The taste of wine isn’t the complete favourite of mine, but just for the grapes and the feeling i get i will choke it all back like i’m consenting to drowning. Which i do sometimes but that’s an essay for another time. I’m not a big fan of raisins, but the fact that grapes have ANOTHER use is mind blowing to me. It’s like potatoes with their diverse ability to function as different food options. You have alcohol, drinks- such as juice which i will touch upon later-, healthy snacks which are easy to transport and consume waste free, and they can be turned into even more diverse styled snacks. It’s a bit of happiness for everyone, which i think we can all use a little bit of don’t you agree man? Grapes are easily accessible to everyone, being able to grow in many different climates it offers an opportunity for everyone to enjoy their loveliness through their own stores and gardens. While some more exotic fruits and berries lack the ability to do, that makes them objectively better than any other sort of exotic grown edible. Some of their other uses include: juice. The grape juice they make are very poggers, it took some time to work up the effort to try it without cumming but that failed, i still did coom but the grape juice tasted nice at least. It was sweet but not overly sweet enough to stop me from finishing it. Some have a slight sour aftertaste, and I like sour so i like grape juice even more then.There’s also jelly, grape jelly is pog and nice. It can go on toast which is a perfect level of sweet and savoury, offering a nice breakfast, lunch or dinner. The marvelous texture of grape jelly lures you in, you must buy some to put on toast, you absolutely must. You have no choice comrades. There’s also seedless grapes, which are different. They aren’t actually seedless you idiots, the seeds just didn’t develop proper hard shells due to genetic errors. But regardless it makes everything all the more better when you pop them in your mouth. Not that grape seeds are unhealthy to eat, quite the opposite actually.
/c
#grape#copypasta#juice#so many emotions#i feel powerful#fear me#lmao what#I found this on ao3 lmao#pukicho#pmseymourva
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Lover, Tell Me, if You’re Able
Summary: You trek down to the underworld to save a certain Robin using your admittedly limited knowledge of Greek Mythology. Nothing a little moxie can’t fix right?
a/n: I’ve been wanting to do an Orpheus Eurydice thing with Jason for a while now. I’m pretty sure this has been done but I really wanted to take a stab at it.
listen to this song while reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP47npl3rHo
warnings: angst, slight body horror, unhealthy grieving, bad decisions, and kind of an eating disorder caused by unhealthy grieving. There is some tooth rotting fluff though.
word count: 5,049
You snorted in your usual short, breathy laugh—which according to certain asshats sounded less like a laugh and more like the death rattle of a hyena —as you nearly tripped over what felt like the fiftieth rock in the past half hour. You cursed quietly wrapping your shaking arms around yourself letting your unkempt fingernails dig into your thoroughly abused coat which probably had a few unwanted holes by now. It wasn’t even that cold nor was it even remotely scary. You know, aside form the ghostly moaning bouncing off the walls but that was par for the course in Gotham subways. No big deal.
After what felt like the seventieth rock, you swore. You swore loud and vicious and cutting. You swore to capital ‘G’ god that when you found Jason Peter Todd you were gonna curb stomp his ass into next week. This is his fault for being stupid enough to- to-
Just like that, your anger and frustration plummeted into grief.
Your mind fell back to the funeral,
For the first since you entered the dark tunnel a few hours ago—a few days ago?—, you could feel the cavernous walls threatening to close in on you as you took another shaky step.
To all the ‘I’m sorrys’ and condolences,
You could feel your rib cage fall open. Each gentle pat on, gentle look, and hushed whispers scooping out your insides leaving a vast empty cavity save for a heart that ached too much to beat properly and a pair of lungs clogged with too tar to breathe. The expanse of your chest feeling too full and too hollow at once.
To all the ‘he died too young’ crap,
No shit!
No friggin shit!
He was 16. He was six-fucking-teen. He just got his fucking driver’s license.
You wanted to scream but the words lingered in your bones. Instead, the nestled and furled into a mantra and worked their way up to your throat, burning. As if folding and creasing them into a perfect, proper eulogy of hand-picked words would bring him back.
You knew it wouldn’t. You weren’t foolish. You weren’t that hopeful. You weren’t even disgustingly hopeful. You were Alley born. You were practical and brutally realistic. You were also not dumb. As much as people in Gotham Academy seem to believe, you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no ending to his story that involved a long peaceful life. He was also a child of the Alley, born of Gotham’s gutter, there was no way he would not die young.
Your tongue felt heavy like a tombstone being set into place.
And to all the ‘he’s in a better place now’
HA!
The words set your grief a flame burning it into the kind of white anger that consumes even those around you.
Fucking hilarious.
Just fanfuckingtastic.
You’d see about that.
You took a long sobering breath holding it in afraid that if you breathed out the anger would seep out leaving you with nothing but grief.
After what felt like an eternity, you breathed out sure that all the anger, all the irritation, and all the sputtering hope had settled in your bones.
You were going to get him back.
You will.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Jason tapped the edge of your science textbook with his pencil morse coding something and clearly demanding your attention. You rolled your eyes, moved your textbook an inch closer to you, and continued reading through the passage electing to ignore your likely scowling best friend.
He tapped again. You didn’t look up sure that he’d go away if you pretended his existence was an elaborate hoax. This ingenious strategy is probably why you two have been glued together for the last 10 years.
Losing patience, he snatched up your textbook earning a petulant, half-hearted glare from you. “What the fuck do you want, Jay?”
“Do you remember the Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice?”
You blinked at him, honestly confused.
He gave you a questioning look. He could probably see the gears turning in your head.
You’d heard the names before but you were struggling to associate them with anything. Until it clicked.
“Oh yeah, Hadestown the dude with the guitar-”
“Lyre,”
You made an affronted noise which made him roll his eyes at you but you could see the slight twitch in his lips at your antics. You would count that as a win.
“He plays the lyre, you uncultured swine. Did you even read the packet?” He asked lightly tapping your head with your textbook.
“Your posh bitch is showing,” you snorted. he tapped your head just a tinsy bit harder with the textbook. You scowled at him. He gave you a gentle reassuring smile which roughly translated to ‘it was an accident I swear’. “Uh sure. Yeah. Course, I read the packet” you lied reaching over for your textbook which he sets down on the table behind him.
“Are you even literate?” He joked.
“Last time I checked I needed that to forge doctor’s notes for rich snots,” Jason wrinkled his nose trying his level best to scowl at you but from the crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes the laughter bubbling in his chest was clearly winning out. You knew he was just worried about the unnecessary risk you were taking but it was a bad habit from the Alley days you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t like you were likely to get caught.
“The In Class Essay is next period, dip shit” he sneered as harshly as he could. He was so bad at being a hard ass that you just smiled. “Yet here you are talking to me and depriving me of my education,” you snarked, gesturing vaguely to your book.
You could technically get up and get it yourself but you were too lazy and you were pretty sure Jason wasn’t gonna let you get the book that easily. “Sides, it’s English who cares?” At that, Jason wrinkled his nose in disgust. “How am I friends with you again?”
You hummed, leaning back in your chair, tilting your head back dramatically before flinging yourself over the table to snatch up the textbook from the table behind him. You were a good amount taller than Jason which really wasn’t something to be too proud of. The bar wasn’t too fucking high.
You plopped back down to your chair grinning ear to ear victoriously immensely enjoying his shocked look. Then he looked like he was about to deck you.
“Well for starters, I’ve saved your ass from getting shanked about 15 times now. That’s just counting instances out of uniform,” He looked at you affronted. You simply rolled your shoulders. “Plus,” You reached into your blazer pocket and produced a beat-up looking tootsie pop ring.”You’re the one who proposed,”
Jason turned a luminescent shade of red as if you had just pulled out his entire cash of porn which you’ve done. “Why do you still have that?! How?”
“Because you still haven’t given me a proper one,” you said smugly tilting your head to the side inviting him for a rebuttal. He sighed exasperated. Resting his chin on his hand, palm covering half of his face, he glared at the opposite wall making damned sure that he didn’t look your way. The flush in his ears peaked through his cropped curls. It was hard to catch but your nosy ass definitely heard him mumble “I’m saving up,”.
Your face broke into a stupidly wide smile, a warm feeling bubbling up in you. “I’ll hold you to that, lover,” you cooed cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the nose as the bell rang. You could see the mortification attack his entire being in waves.
——————————————————————————————————————————-
Stumbling out of the tunnel, you find yourself in a fray of souls all crowding towards the shore. You keep your head down and shuffle in step with the dead.
‘The dead hate the living’ Constantine warned as he handed you the drachma and a beat-up old map. You handed him a wad of cash. He didn’t seem to care that money was dirty.
You keep your expression carefully blank and focus on your feet but the sheer anxiety crawling up your spine rattling every vertebra was making that very difficult. You swallowed thickly trying to think of anything else but the depressing moans and absolutely haunted expressions were also making your life difficult. Instead, you focus on your award-winning bullshit speech that was surely going to win over the lord and lady of the underworld. Ok, sure, you weren’t half the thief Jason was nor were you even half as smart. But you were definitely the better conman. You might have had absolutely no interest in English class but words have always been your friend. You could definitely spin it with the best of them. It helped that all the rough edges that came with being an Alley kid tucked themselves neatly away behind trustworthy eyes and easy smiles. Even gods could be taken for a ride, right?
Somehow you made it to the shore without incident and even got yourself on the boat without even as much as a glance from the ferryman. That was a little unnerving but you weren’t about to complain. Not when it brought you a step closer to your goal. It might have been partially due to your unkempt appearance. Long nails, dead fish eyes, ratty coat, sallow cheeks, and dimming complexion all thanks to this wonderful diet called ‘grieving over your dumbass boyfriend/best friend because he decided to be a dramatic bitch and die an untimely death’. Part of you wonders if you simply want to bring him back so you could murder him. Maybe. Looking around at the haunted looks on your fellow passengers move that to a probably.
Uncomfortable, you jam your hands into your coat pockets. One hand dug deep into the recesses of the pocket where the little ring was safely squirreled away. You fidgeted with it passing it from finger to finger like the coin trick you’d learned a while back.
——————————————————————————————————————————
“Marry me,” Jason demanded unsurely, kneeling on one knee clasping your hand with both of his tiny ones. His little face ironed into something serious but cheeks flushed making them, what the girls called, pinchable but even at age 6, you were able to resist if simply for the fact that you were dumbstruck by the fact that your best friend and crush was suddenly at your doorstep in the middle of the day and clasping your hand.
“What?” You asked tugging your hand away but he didn’t let go. He absolutely refused to.
“Marry me,” he insisted. “I’m proposing,” he added shyly seeing how the confused furrow in your brow did not disappear. “Lena said it was a good idea,” he added quietly.
A round of hoots and hollers exploded behind you including Lena who was laughing her ass off. Even Carol and Lassie who were busy doing their makeup were snickering and giving you a thumbs up respectively. Your face burned hot and you scowled at all of them which just made them laugh louder. You snapped your attention back to Jason who looked at you with bright earnest blue eyes. Fuck. You crossed your arms trying to look intimidating and failing miserably because of just how goddamned cute he looked. Manipulative bastard.
“Don’t you need a ring for that, bud?” you challenged.
“Oh yeah,” He scrambled digging through his various pockets before producing a tootsie pop ring. Your hackles rose. What the hell Lena?
“Look at the size of that rock!” Josaline hollered from behind you. You could see the teasing smile on her face. You wanted to shrink. You wanted to maul them. You also wanted to burst because your crush likes you. You had a tiny, itsy bitsy crush on Jason for a while now. You’ve always declared that it was small but that didn’t stop the girls from teasing you relentlessly and this was just a nail in the coffin. You wanted to scream at Jason but the way he looked at you made your little heart flutter.
“Fine,”
He grinned wide. “Great! We can share rent,” he said his earnest smile turning cheeky. You swore some of the girls were choking from laughter. That was the moment you decided to make Jason Todd’s life miserable.
——————————————————————————————————————————-
As it turns out, traversing the underworld wasn’t that hard.
Nope. It wasn’t any harder than going around crime alley. At least here, you weren’t too worried about getting shot.
Nope.
It was just incredibly. Fucking. Depressing.
The atmosphere was suffocating and the only thing you’ve heard for hours were people listing their regrets when they weren’t too busy sobbing. Given they have every right to be this way. They did die after all. But Christ! You being able to understand it didn’t mean you could stand it.
Jason owed you big time.
Jason owed you the largest bowl of ice cream complete with 20 different flavors of your choosing, a mountain of whipped cream, a shovel full of sprinkles, and an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup.
And a hug. A long ass, bone crushing hug.
Yeah, you’re definitely demanding a hug. You don’t care if his pansy ass tries to break for it. You were getting the hug.
Once this was done-
You turned the thought over in your head pointedly ignoring the fat droplets of tears now streaking your face. You weren’t entirely sure whether they were from relief or unrelenting anxiety. If you succeed, your 8 months of hell would have been worth it.
But what if I fail?
What happens when I fail?
The thought seized your breath, your lungs constricting as if their cage of bones was threatening to collapse in on itself in your effort to shrink away from the possibility. You stopped breathing completely. A bad habit you picked up from your first foster home after social services took you from your home. Apparently, they didn’t think a group of hookers could provide a safe loving environment for a kid. Assholes. Breathing meant relaxing. Relaxing meant letting your guard down. Letting your guard down led to bad things. Jason never commented on your new habit after you two reunited. After you both found yourselves at the mercy of Gotham’s streets.
“Lover tell me if you can~” You paused but not quite long enough for a response. Not like a few months ago when you’d wait catatonically for Jason to respond with the verse you’d forgotten in his oddly melodious voice. Singing was the one way you’d learned to breathe out after locking up without triggering a panic attack. Sure, it annoyed the hell out of a lot of people but who cares. You liked it. Your voice was decent. Plus, Jason loved it when you sang. Your breaths flowed easier accompanied by a melody and the smile on Jason’s face every time you sang always took your breath away.
——————————————————————————————————————————-
“ Lover, tell me if you can Who’s gonna buy the wedding bands?~” You hummed the rest of the forgotten stanza under your breath as you wrap the ‘acquired’ blanket around the both of you. Gotham winters were a bitch but you tried your best to keep your spirits up which basically meant teasing Jason to hell and back. Who knew calling him lover would annoy him so much?
Instead of the intended reaction, Jason simply continued to the next stanza sounding a lot more in tone than you. You huffed partially from amusement partially from frustration.
“Figures you would know this song,” you teased.
Jason scowled tugging more of the blanket around himself as a lame form of retaliation. You leaned in closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. He huffed not really able to stay mad at you for too long.“It’s from Hadestown. The old woman at the pawnshop always plays it when she’s working,”
“Horse shit, all she ever plays when I’m there is Madame Guillotine,” You wrinkled your nose.”She probably hates me,”
“Gee, I wonder what that’s about,” Jason smirked.
“You know, she probably has a crush on you,”
“EW! Shut up!”
“Come on we gotta milk it-”
He elbowed you.
“Fine,” you relented, rubbing your chest and letting your head lean on his. You watched the snowfall basking in what little warmth you shared.
“Promise me you’ll sing that when-”
“IF”
“When we get married,”
“Fine but ya gotta sing the entire GI Joe theme song plus the Baby Shark Song,”
“BET”
——————————————————————————————————————————-
You stood before large obsidian doors bouncing on the balls of your feet. The doors were carved elegantly with swirling patterns and sprawling carvings of flowers and bones. Dramatic but very pretty. Your stomach churned as the doors lurched open.
You were going to be sick.
Before you were a long table piled high with every kind of food you could think of. Likely you would have had to pick up your jaw and mop up a cascade of drool from the floor if not for the last few months. Your stomach threatened to implode if you kept looking. Months of not eating properly did that to you. The first few months were the worst. You were barely able to keep a bite down without your body convulsing and rejecting it. Sadness had hollowed you out and filled you with something else during those months.
Now, you shifted your gaze to focus on the tall man sitting imperiously at the other end of the table on a throne carved out of precious metal. How someone looked imperious while eating was a mystery to you. It might be the fact that he was abnormally large looking to be around 10 ft tall. His frame was broad which contrasted greatly with the regal features of his face which were set in a rather loving configuration as he stared deep into the eyes of the dark-skinned woman as she recounted what sounded like a hilarious encounter with a dryad. The woman was unnaturally pretty with sculpted features and wild curls. She looked right at home underneath the sun which made her presence here ease your fraying nerves. They smiled at each other smitten with each other’s presence which almost made you feel guilty for interrupting their moment of marital bliss.
You clear your throat as politely as you could drawing their attention and possibly their ire towards you. You took a deep breath, the kind that inflated your entire body, and forced it out through your nostrils as your mouth was busy reconfiguring itself into an easy smile.
“My Lord Hades. My Lady Persephone,” You greeted bowing your head courteously. Your gestures were less grandiose and theatrical as the ones you used on the rich punks in Gotham which they happily lapped up. No, you made sure every movement, every posture, and every word was quieter, trying your damnedest to radiate sincerity and reverence from every pore in your body. Sure, you didn’t have Jason’s easy charisma and sure, you didn’t have the power Dick had for making everyone fall in love with you instantly but you were damned if you were going to make a fool of yourself in front of two literal gods and squander your only chance at getting your boy back. Not when you’ve come so far. Not when you’ve done so much. Not when you’ve dirtied your hands this much.
Hades looked neither pleased nor displeased by your presence. Good enough. The fact that you were still intact might have something to do with the mischief in Persephone’s eyes. She looked extremely amused despite your interruption. You hoped, which you didn’t normally do, that that boded well for you.
“I am her-”
“We know,” Hades interrupts.
Your body twitched. Rude. But you schooled your features into something resembling pleasantry.
“You’re here for the boy,” He adds, waving his hand. Without time for your brain to process. Jason is there battered, bloodied, and bruised. The dazed look in his eyes made him look haunted which made your breath seize. A cocktail of anger and sadness and relief swelled in you as your body twitched forward. All you wanted to do was hold him, to stroke his hair, to sing to him, to take him to Dr.Thompkins to get his injuries sorted out, and possibly watch the old woman thwack him on the head half a dozen times. Hell, you would offer to count. Your stomach churned and you felt dizzy. This is the most alive you’ve felt in months. This is also the most fearful you’ve felt in months. You felt like you were going to fall apart and recongeal into an entirely new person.
Focus.
It was hard to do when you saw how tattered his Robin uniform looked but you managed to straighten yourself out enough in time to catch Hades as he watched you appraisingly, searching for raw desperation in your features. You tucked it away in your bones and in the deepest recesses of your chest. He seemed amused and even mildly impressed by your restraint so he dined to push further.
“What are you willing to trade for him?”
Everything.
Your mind screamed automatically. The word dangled thickly at the edge of your tongue.
You would have plucked each and every star out of the sky and fashioned them into a necklace that would adorn Lady Persephone’s neck.
You would have used Poseidon’s ocean to douse the sun.
You would have used the fires of Tartarus to set the world ablaze. It deserved it for the hand it dealt Jason.
You would do anything if it meant having Jason back in your arms.
You bit your cheek hard forcing yourself to refocus. You shifted your posture making a show of thinking if only to gather yourself. You knew the answer. It might not have been the right one and if you’re being honest, it wasn’t even a good one. You rolled your shoulders trying to mold yourself into a more sure version of yourself.
“My future,”
The room plunged into silence.
Jason who had looked like he was not all there widened his eyes and shook his head at you. You simply leveled him a smile full of cocksure and hot air. Sure, your future wasn’t worth much. People have told you as much. But it was a novel offer. It wasn’t every day that a mortal offered their fate to you and gods love nothing more than novelty.
Both gods remained silent. Hades narrowing his eyes at you and Persephone stared at you with an unreadable expression. The longer the silence wore on the more your confidence waned. The treacherous chorus in your head began to sing of the failure that has yet to happen.
Persephone let out a trill of delighted laughter and Hades shook his head in amusement, his solemn lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. Both you and Jason stiffened.
“My love, just let them go,” Persephone pleaded sweetly cupping Hades’s face gently. It was an intimate gesture that made even you soft.
“My dear…”
“It was not the boy’s time, my love,”
Damn straight, it wasn’t!
Hades let out an exasperated sigh before looking at you again. “I will grant you both freedom if you pass my trials,”
“Anything!” The word spilled out of you too quickly, too raw. A satisfied smile wrinkled at the corners of Hades’s eyes. Fucker.
“I will have you do three trials-” He flicked his hand and Jason materialized beside you. “-with the boy’s aid,” Without an ounce of hesitation, you gathered him into your arms with all the bravado and restraint giving way too stupidly unfiltered happiness. Without meaning to, you let fat droplets of tears streak your face. Jason copped your face giving you a wry smile and wiping away the tears with his thumb.
“You look like shit,”
“So do you,”
You both laughed. You kissed his palm and took his hand from your face and kissed his knuckle. A flush crept on to Jason’s face but he couldn’t hide that any better than he could hide the loving look in his eyes when he looked into yours.
The trials were almost insultingly easy especially when you had the world’s best Robin with you. Sure, you were battered and bruised but it was nothing you could not handle. You suspected that Persephone was rooting for you. That or Hades just wanted you out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t care. There was no way you were failing.
You returned to Hades’ hall, arms full of spoils, and Jason’s hand interlaced with yours. You both try to fight off the hopeful feeling bubbling in your chest but there was no helping it when his hand was warm in yours. You smiled gratefully at Persephone who returned it in kind, looking sincerely happy for the both of you. You made a note to send her an appropriate sacrifice once you were back on the surface.
Hades inspected your spoils and hummed. Your stomach lurched. Jason squeezed your hand and kissed your nose. Persephone practically squealed at the adorable gesture while Hades just smiled at his wife’s antics.
“You have succeeded,”
“Thank you-”
“But I have one last trial for you,”
Hades holds up his hand before you could protest.
“Do you recall the deal I made with Orpheus?”
You nodded almost numbly. Jason gave you a surprised look which you returned with a scowl.
“Good. I will make the same deal with you. Does that sound fair to you?”
You both nodded frantically. You knew this would be hard especially with your frayed nerves but it was nothing you could not handle.
On the way to the tunnel, you held each other close, soaking up contact while you could. When you reached the tunnel, you hesitantly let go of his hand making sure to remember the feeling of your fingers intertwined together. He pressed kisses to every inch of your face likely feeling guilty over your haggard state. You whispered jokes and half baked promises to appease him in return as you squeezed him harder. You walked tensely up the tunnel trailed by his ever quieting footsteps. You began to hum every song you could think of including the very annoying ones which earned you a lot of annoyed grunts and critiques from your ghostly companion. You also chattered about everything you could think of. All the latest gossip. All the things you learned during your global crime spree. You may have left out the crime spree but you could deal with the fall out later. Instead, you focused on the happy things. The things you wanted to do with him once you two got out. Once, you brought him back to Gotham. Sure, Bruce was probably going to maul you for all the trouble you’ve caused the JLA but fuck them. Seriously fuck them.
After what felt like an eternity, you saw it. You saw light. Bright, crisp, and blinding. You were going to cry. You were almost there. You were almost out. Your body launched into a sprint. Your chest felt like something in it shook loose and your body was lighter than it had ever been. You were almost there. You could almost feel the sun on your skin.
You ran into the light and -
——————————————————————————————————————————-
You woke up on the damp earth.
Everything ached.
Your veins felt rusty and sluggish.
Your mind even more so.
Snow flitted down to the earth in gentle feathery flakes.
Your senses returned to you one by one.
The sound of shouting and car horns littered the periphery of your consciousness.
Your fingers felt cold and numb.
The familiar smell and taste of Gotham smog overwhelmed your senses.
That wasn’t right.
That wasn’t right at all. You were in Mani in southern Peloponnese. You were face to face with one of the Gates of Hades just a few hours ago.
You shuffled through your coat. You did not have your drachma. You did not have your map.
You snapped your head in every direction looking desperately for any sign of Jason. Not even a single footprint.
Your stomach dropped as despair took hold of you and clung to every bone in your body. Pulling yourself up unsteadily, you stood taking baby steps towards a thoroughly battered brick wall. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, your phone began dialing a number automatically.
“You have reached Wayne Manor,” Alfred’s posh voice carries over the phone.
Your breath stutters. The words claw their way out of your chest.
“Jason- Jason, he-”
Alfred remained silent. Alfred was likely shaking his head in pity. You couldn’t stand that. You could barely stand the feeling of your skin right now. Your resounding failure rippled underneath your skin making you tremble on to your knees. You could do nothing but crumple to the ground in pathetic sobs as the weight of agony and despair weighed over you.
“Jason. Jason. Jason.”
You whispered apologetically, reverently. The words would not call him back. Those words could never call him back.
—————————————————————————————————————————–
Piece by piece Jason returned to himself.
Jason woke up swallowed in darkness. It was deep and unyielding. Even his training with Batman could not alleviate the anxiety that brought.
The second thing to return was his hearing. It was deathly silent save for the pounding of his own heart and his frantic breathing.
Where was he?
The air around him tasted stale and the resolute smell of formaldehyde was inescapable.
Then the pain lanced through and all his memories came back in a splotchy kaleidoscope of fear, fire, and pain.
He was dead.
He died.
He was in Ethiopia.
He was trying to save his mom.
Oh god.
Oh god.
Oh god.
Where is Bruce?
Where is he?
Why is it so dark?
Jason tried to move his limbs but it was no use. He was boxed in.
That’s when the smell of earth hit him.
Jason pressed his hands every which way.
He was literally boxed in.
Was he in a coffin?
He tried to scream.
His mouth was wired shut.
Oh god.
Oh god.
Oh god.
He was going to die.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ending was a bit rushed. I might edit it later. Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to roast me in the comments.
(Note: I tried editing the ending to make it more panicky and claustrophobic. I don’t know if t worked.)
This was inspired by the fact that Jason Todd: Not-So-Outlaw by goawayolivia never answers how Jason came back.
Here is my answer. It is pure dumbassery.
taglist:
@birdy-bat-writes (enabler)
@idkmanicantenglish (sweet heart)
@batarella (Because I honestly blame you for this)
@multifandomgirl-us
@foenixphire
#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#Jason Todd#angst#My writing#attempts at humor#dc fanfiction#reader insert#imagine#hurt/comfort#kind of#more on hurt#have fun#batboys#batkids
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Love is a War – Chapter 1
Peter Parker x Pregnant!Stark Reader
Summary: you’re pregnant and you need to tell your family and Peter.
Warnings: violence, injuries, swearing, snap does not happen
Iron girl is what they called you, Tony Starks' daughter. When you joined the team when you were 15, the world learnt who you were by name only, never your face. Your father had given you a new suit every year for your birthday from when you turned 13. He gave it to you for fun, not wanting you to go out and fight with it. If he even suspected that you were using it to fight, he took it away from you. Joining the team changed that you developed further relationships with people who you lived with.
The compound was split onto levels. Your father and Pepper had the penthouse, which you shared with them until you turned 16 and demanded your own floor. Steve, Bucky and Sam had the floor closest to the gym, they spent a majority of their time in that place, most of the time together, their army days making them close. Nat and Wanda shared another floor, they had wanted you to join their floor, claiming that girls should always stick together. Bruce occupied the space next to the labs, always wanting to be close to his work. He shared his space with Thor when he came to visit, but it was a rare occasion. Clint sometimes came to visit but lived with his family, keeping them away from danger.
Peter had been assigned a room in the penthouse, Tony's orders, however after you two had been dating for over two years and after you, both turned 18, he was allowed to move onto your floor. His room was to be separate from yours for your father's peace of mind, but that didn't stop you only sleeping in one of the two rooms every night. Even when you were sick.
You honestly thought you were dying. Everyone else in the compound believed that you had the flu. Your father Tony had wanted you to stay in the med bay just so that someone was keeping an eye on you at all times of the day. He also wanted you there so that he could run tests to make sure that you just had the flu and nothing else. He tried to coax you into the med bay, but you knew better. His tricks didn't fool you, the only way to get him off of your back was to have Bruce give you IV fluids. He didn't want you to dehydrate. Until you got better, you were also banned from being Iron Girl.
Peter was by your side the entire time. When he wasn't working at the internship, he was by your side, comforting you. Being enhanced by the spider bite when he was younger meant that he was immune to most if not all illnesses. His worry grew for you when you weren't getting any better. He tried to get you to go get tests done at the med bay as well, but even he couldn't charm you.
Then your symptoms started to change slightly, you were still throwing up, and certain smells set you off. When Wanda was cooking chicken one night, you couldn't help but excuse yourself to empty your stomach once again. Peter hot on your tail, like he always was to hold your hair back. Some days you spent all day in bed resting, doing the simplest of things tired you out. Peter would always cuddle you in bed when he came back, only wanting you to get better.
Once you had dropped off to sleep, he decided to do some research into your symptoms and to what it could possibly be that was making you this sick. There were a few possibilities as to what could be wrong with you, but the one that stuck out the most to him was pregnant. He couldn't get the idea of children out of his head. The thought of a mini you or him running around, having the other avengers wrapped around its fingers.
"Baby, do you know why you are getting so sick?" Peter asked one morning after you returned to bed.
"I don't know Petey. Maybe I should go down to the med bay, I hate feeling like this." Your eyes were tearing up at the fact that you didn't know what was wrong with you. Feeling absolutely useless, you crawled into Peters lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Peter pulled away from you, his eyes meeting yours, "have you ever thought that you could be pregnant?" The idea was preposterous, there was no way that you could be pregnant. The both of you were careful, not wanting to end up in that position.
Shaking your head, you were certain. "I think I would know Pete. I think I would know my own body."
"Why don't you just take a test (y/n). Just to be on the safe side. I don't mind going to buy it, I'll make sure to go to the next city. I'll pay by cash as well, then it can't be traced back to us. Don't worry, I have this." He was so kind and helpful, thinking of things that even you wouldn't have thought of.
When Peter bought the test, he snuck into an alleyway just so that he could hide the test up his jumper. There were cameras in every room of the compound except for the bathrooms. On his arrival to your shared floor, he headed straight for the bathroom so that he could put the test in there for you to take.
Slowly making your way into the bathroom, Peter couldn't help but smile at you. He wanted to be by your side through it all. "Pete, turn around. I'm not having you watch me pee."
With a pout on his face, he reluctantly turned around. When he heard the sound of the toilet flush, and your trousers being pulled back up, he turned to face you again. "The box says we have to wait two minutes. Humming you couldn't help but think how long those two minutes would feel, and they did feel long. When the timer on your phone went off, you held your breath as you looked at the test in front of you.
Pregnant.
The one word that changed everything. Your body was growing a tiny human. Showing it to Peter, he clutched at you laughing not quite believing the word on the test. Was this a dream, a nightmare, or reality? Placing a hand on your stomach, your emotions were all over the place. You were ecstatic that you were having a baby with the man in front of you, but you were both still only 19, were you ready for this?
It was weighing on your mind a lot, only Peter knew, and you were going crazy. Someone else had to know, you couldn't keep it a secret forever. There was only one person you could turn to, one person immune to your father's charms, one person who could lie to him. Pepper.
After talking to Peter about it, he agreed that talking to Pepper was a good idea. She would know where to go for an ultrasound scan, that would keep it a secret. You had asked Pepper to come to your floor for lunch, it would be easier to tell her there as there would be no interruptions. Sitting across from her you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn off the mics to your floor, telling the A.I. that you were discussing a present for Tony.
When the words left your mouth that you were pregnant you broke down. The emotions you had let build up finally erupted. Pepper was by your side in an instant arms around your shoulders, rocking you until you stopped crying. "Does Peter know?" All she wanted to do was keep you safe, her daughter growing up too quickly for her liking.
You nodded your head, "I know I need to tell dad, but I just don't know how." You were now grasping onto her arms that were around you.
"We can tell him together hun. I'm by your side no matter what you want." Pepper was always the mother figure in your life, always the person you went to when you had a problem, she was always there for you.
Discussing the scan made you nervous, you would have to go to a different city to have it. Somewhere where you or your family weren't as well known. When Pepper told you that the med bay could do it, you were scared. They would no doubt tell your father and then it wouldn't be your secret. When she told you that they had to abide by patient confidentiality due to your age, you couldn't be happier.
Calling Pete you told him the news, Pepper had booked you into the med bay for that night, a time of day when it would be quietest. She wanted to go with you, but your father would be suspicious if she didn't attend dinner with a client. Pete came back early from work, wanting to spend some time with you before your scan, in your little bubble of two, before it became your bubble of three.
Nerves ran through you as you attended the med bay for your scan. It would be the first time you would see the little one growing inside of you. Peter held your hand throughout and even shed a tear when the sonographer showed the screen of your baby. It was real now, your baby.
You decided to tell the team in the morning, you would tell your father at the same time, hoping his reaction would cause minimal damage. You were about to tell him about the one thing he was worried about happening. Right now, it was just you in your bubble of Peter and the baby.
Waking up, you almost couldn't go through with it, but with Peter, by your side, you could face anything. You had asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to get everyone in the common room so that you could tell them all the news together, it was a non-negotiable meeting. "What's wrong? Why have you got everyone here first thing on a Saturday morning?" Bucky grumbled. He was never one for mornings, always consuming an unhealthy amount of caffeine if he had to be up before midday.
"We have some news, and we wanted to tell you all together." Peters' strong voice surprised everyone, including you. He was always shying away from the team when it came to speaking publicly in front of them.
You took the responsibility out of his hands and just came out with it, "I'm pregnant. We're having a baby." Shock covered everyone's faces, they couldn't believe that the two youngest members of the team were going to have a baby.
One by one, the team all came to hug the both of you, congratulating you. All except your father. His face was stoic as he stood leaning against the wall one hand resting on his chin as he thought hard. "Are you sure you are pregnant? That this isn't some kind of prank that the two of you are pulling on me." He refused to believe it until he saw for himself.
When you pulled the photo of your unborn baby from your pocket and gave it to him, he cried, pulling in for a hug. "My little girl is having a baby. Is this why you have been sick? Until that baby is born no more missions for you, no getting into the suit and certainly no training for you. We need to keep my grandchild safe."
The domesticity in the room was not what anyone would have expected, everyone pulled into different conversations about the baby and how it would fit into the dynamic of the team. They all wanted to be involved. Bruce couldn't help his thoughts from wandering, thinking about the genetics that this baby might have. The brains that were established in both you and Peter. He pulled Tony into the corridor to discuss what was plaguing his mind, hoping that he could offer some reassurances.
"Have you ever thought about the biological capabilities of this child? We need to run tests, there is a possibility that the D.N.A. sequence could match yours with the spider gene." Your father turned to Peter when entering the room. "This can change everything. If this information fell into the wrong hands, it could be detrimental to you all, especially that baby. If our enemies found out, then they could take the baby and possibly replicate it, but in the process, it would kill the baby."
Everyone's faces visibly paled at the words your father just spoke. Turning to Bruce, you wanted his opinion, he was the one who had all the degrees. He just nodded his head, your baby could be a target. Sitting down tears ran tracks along with your features. Peter couldn't believe it either, he had been so happy about it to only find it could be fatal, it could lead to even your death.
Steve then decided to speak up "It is just a possibility at the moment."
#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x pregnant!reader#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker fic#miniseries#iron dad#marvel#Avengers#avengers family#spiderman#spiderman fic#spiderman fanfiction#tw violence#tw injury#tw swearing
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Can I Be Close To You
Summary: Buck doesn't have a "covid crush", which doesn't mean he isn't hiding something. A look inside Buck's head during 4.01 and 4.02.
Words: 3,249
Notes: Cannot escape writing fic, apparently. So here we are. Obviously there be spoilers here for the aired episodes. This fic is pre-relationship/pre-buddie. Title from Bloom by The Paper Kites. Enjoy.
Read on Ao3
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The one thing that Buck was grateful for was that Chimney wasn’t teasing him about his “covid crush” outside of the apartment. It was something he only ever brought up when Maddie called or whenever Buck made the mistake of being too loud or using his phone or laptop outside of his bedroom when Chim was around. Chimney of course also noticed whenever Buck got alerts or calls on his phone that had him rushing away. Buck didn’t really care about the teasing. He did care that no one find out why he was being so secretive. It was just easier to be teased about something that wasn’t true, than to be teased for what was true.
The problem was that they were in the middle of a global crisis. A pandemic the likes of which hadn’t been seen for about a hundred years. It was a lot. In March when everything started to go wrong it had been easy to convince himself and everyone else that it would be over fast. That lockdown would work and in a few weeks or a few months everything would go back to normal. Hen and Bobby had been the firsts to question that logic because they only expected things to get worse. Buck really hated when they were right. Of course, nothing was normal anymore.
Hen was the one to bring up concerns about them doing their jobs during the pandemic and bringing the virus home to their families. Between all her work to put her in the path of becoming a doctor, and being an amazing paramedic to boot, Hen was the first to start pushing them on the road to taking extra caution. Her concern for her family and for the families of the others was real and unfortunately necessary.
“I don’t want to stop working. I want to help people and we are more important than ever right now,” Hen had put it into words back then. It was everything they were all feeling.
Buck had lost count of the number of calls that made them practically just collectors of the dead or dying. Not just that but they all knew first responders that had been personally affected by Covid-19 and it wasn’t just them but their families too. Buck was the only one with no one back at his apartment waiting for him. That’s what gave him the idea.
“You can come stay with me if that makes you feel better,” he offered.
Hen hadn’t hesitated for long. She and Karen had had a long conversation about it and before Buck knew it he had Hen and then Chimney living with him. It was nice. It made it easier to bury all the anxiety and worry that had been clawing at him with every article or video or news report that he consumed. His living room had been taken over by an aerobed for Hen while Chim took the sofa.
Eddie showed up a week after Hen and Chim with a sleeping bag under his arm.
“I have Carla staying with Christopher. It seemed — it’s for the better, you know? Can I — is there room for one more?”
In reality, Buck’s apartment wasn’t all that big, but Buck wasn’t going to turn away his best friend. So, Buck just welcomed him in. And for a while, despite everything going on in the world, things were okay. Buck wasn’t freaking out with every new report on the rise in cases and the rise in the dead and how the curve wasn’t flattening and yet the intrusive thoughts nevertheless showed up in his head and late at night when everyone else was sleeping his phone was right there with more information and facts and figures that made it hard to imagine that the world would ever be set to rights.
Eddie was the first to notice that Buck wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. It became a whole thing with Eddie and Hen and Chim feeling like they were being imposing and Buck not being able to voice that it wasn’t them, but everything else. Somehow, he managed to convince them that they weren’t in his way.
Buck had tried to reach out to Frank, but he was overwhelmed with clients and all of them of the first responder persuasion. Buck had felt weird asking the department to help him find someone else to talk to and it was only partially to do with the time he slept with his therapist and certainly more to do with how Buck knew other first responders probably needed the help more than he did. In other firehouses, some firefighters and paramedics had succumbed to the virus. Catching it was the newest hazard of the job. Frank did him the favor of sending him a few names. At first, Buck figured it wasn’t that important. So, he put it off.
He focused on being present. In sitting with Chim while they video called Maddie and in jumping in to say hello to Denny, Nia, and Karen and in reading a bedtime story here or there to Christopher when Eddie wasn’t available and even when he was, the two of them sitting in the kitchen or up in Buck’s room, shoulders pressed together. He tried not to watch the news, and he tried not to keep looking at the numbers.
Pretending wasn’t easy, but after two nights of Eddie catching him up at 3am eyes glued to his phone, Eddie made a point of taking his phone away at night. And then, instead of sleeping down on the first floor, Eddie moved up to the loft on the small camping mat and sleeping bag.
He and Eddie talked until they drifted off, and sometimes it felt better to not be able to see Eddie and to stare out in the shadowed ceiling. Talking to Eddie made it easier to let go of the day, to not let his mind wander and come up with more of the world’s problems to worry about.
So, Buck didn’t think about therapy. Not while he had Eddie near him at night keeping him distracted and willing to stay up until late discussing nothing at all. Buck couldn’t imagine Chim or Hen bothering to do that for him. Rarely, it did happen that Eddie was the one wrung out and needing a conversation. He missed Christopher too much or something they’d seen at work had been just a little too close to home. They were there for each other and all of it just worked.
Of course, that was when Hen decided that it was time she go back home. She missed her kids too much. She missed her wife too much. Eddie didn’t last more than a few days after Hen’s decision as if Hen making that first move made it okay. Buck didn’t blame him, not with the way that Buck missed Christopher which just meant that it was twice as bad for Eddie. And once they were gone and there was just he and Chimney left, Buck found himself falling into old habits. Chimney wasn’t as much of a distraction especially when he spent so much of his time talking to Maddie or reading parenting books, and because Chimney didn’t turn off the news like Eddie or Hen would.
Being in his room alone at night without anything to keep his mind occupied and missing Eddie’s voice and the way that Buck could calm himself to the sound of his breathing brought Buck to a breaking point. He needed help.
Dr. Copeland was the second therapist he had a video call with. She was calm and friendly and she didn’t push him to talk. It felt okay to share his concerns with her in a way that he couldn’t say out loud to everyone in his life. Buck didn’t know if it was somehow easier because she was someone that didn’t know him in real life, or if it had something to do with how Buck could tell that she cared and wanted to help, but he found himself opening up. Dr. Copeland didn’t push, but she did give him insight. She made him aware of the ways that he was being unhealthy about the pandemic.
Chimney picked up at once that Buck was keeping a secret. It took him a little longer to figure out that Buck was talking to someone through a screen and in the same breath to assume that it was some woman that Buck started dating. It did make Buck wonder if people were actually doing that — the whole dating through skype or zoom or facetime. Buck didn’t try to correct him or to be too bothered by Chim teasing him. He didn’t even worry too much once Maddie found out because Maddie wasn’t there in front of him to get the whole thing out of him. So the “covid crush” gave him an excuse to not tell them the truth. Dr. Copeland kept telling him he should tell them how he felt, but Buck didn’t want that burden on his friends and family when the world itself seemed to want to crush them. And either way, he’d been feeling a lot better about everything. He wore his mask and he followed protocols, and he didn’t allow himself to think in “what ifs”.
Emergencies were his job. He better than most knew the quick turn that things could take for the worse. But as Dr. Copeland reminded him, fear couldn’t rule his life even if there was a lot to be afraid of. And it wasn’t the virus that Buck feared, it was loss. Losing his friends and losing his family and being incapable of changing anything. He was, thus, hyper alert. About the pandemic, and about anything else that might prompt worry. Dr. Copeland thought that too much information could be harmful to his mental health, but for Buck knowing facts and doing research kept him from spiralling.
It was Dr. Copeland that made the connection to Buck’s past trauma and realized how likely it was that his worry stemmed from that — from the truck falling on his leg and the tsunami and perhaps even more than that, other parts of his life that he retained and that still bothered him on a deep level. She asked him how much he hid away and didn’t deal with — how much he coped with by researching and by using facts against worry. It made Buck think.
Then, the micro-quakes happened. And Buck got all the alerts, he read up on the dam and he pictured all that could go wrong.
Worrying didn’t mean panicking for him. Buck was cool under pressure, he was good at his job. Most of the problems came after when he considered what might have happened and also how many hadn’t made it out alive. Not because of the virus. But because of a disaster. But by the end of the day, Chimney had finally moved out and Buck had a new roommate in Albert, and after everything that happened in the day, Buck figured that he maybe needed to take his own advice and realize that he couldn’t let fear hold him back.
So when his next therapy session came up, he admitted it to Dr. Copeland. Confirmed what she’d been telling him about himself. He hid his true feelings. He hid away behind platitudes and facts and letting things go because it was easier to move forward than to linger and make things weird with his friends and with his family. Examining that fully meant talking about the past and Dr. Copeland, as gentle as she was in letting him lead the conversation, asked the kind of questions that weren’t easy to answer.
She pressed him about why he feared sharing his feelings and why he felt he had a need to keep so much to himself and Buck was cognizant enough to realize it was his fear of being alone.
“I just...I don’t think they get it,” Buck said. “I don’t think they see it. At the beginning of this whole thing — the pandemic — they all had someone. My sister is pregnant and she had just moved in with her boyfriend and his brother. Hen has her wife and kids. Bobby has Athena and their kids. Eddie, he has Christopher. And the reason I even have Albert here right now is that he rather not be around my sister and her boyfriend now they’re finally together again. I’m alone. I’m always alone.”
“But you aren’t,” Dr. Copeland insisted. “You have people. Your team, your sister. Evan, you are not alone. It may feel like you are, but that just isn’t true. I haven’t known you very long, but the way you talk about your team and your sister it is clear you have a support team. That is why I’m encouraging you to speak with them and share your worry and share even this — that you are getting help and looking at things with a new perspective.”
It was easier to hear it told to him that to do something like admit to Maddie that he was so full of issues that he actually needed therapy. Of course, Maddie herself had gone through a long bout of therapy after Doug and yet compared to that, Buck didn’t feel like he was all that messed up.
“I get what you’re saying. I do. I just...it doesn’t feel like it. And I don’t want to burden them with more just because I’m feeling left behind or just…”
“And that brings us back to you hiding your true feelings,” Dr. Copeland said. “Is there even one person you feel comfortable talking to about this. Your sister perhaps.”
Buck shook his head at once. “No. No. I couldn’t bother Maddie. She has enough on her plate.”
But his mind went to Eddie. Eddie had noticed he wasn’t doing well. Eddie had moved to sleep on Buck’s floor and then talked to him until he fell asleep. And since going back home to Christopher it wasn’t like Eddie had forgotten about Buck, because when he had the time sometimes he would call Buck and they would talk over the phone and it had brought him back to those nights. At work neither of them brought that up, they just worked as seamlessly as ever.
“I don’t want to pressure you, Evan. You’re doing so well and admitting and realizing that you’re holding yourself back is an amazing place to be. I just know that you’ll feel even better once you start sharing your feelings or working through them.”
Dr. Copeland always gave him plenty to think about. And he considered the notion of coming clean to someone — to Eddie — and maybe getting other things off his chest. His fears about the pandemic, the things about his parents that had made them horrible parents to him and Maddie both, how Buck had so many things about himself that he left unacknowledged, and the loneliness. Eddie wasn’t exactly good with emotions either, but he would at least understand the therapy aspect. Eddie had stopped seeing Frank a while ago, but Buck knew that Frank had done what he could to help Eddie and that Eddie had come out the other side lighter and less jaded.
“I’ll think about it,” Buck said.
“Good.”
They talked about other things for the rest of the session and then Buck went back down to join Albert. He’d let Maddie and Chim go, so instead he was busy on his phone.
“Seriously, dude, how did you meet someone? Now that I’m here, I need to know.”
Buck rolled his eyes. At times Albert reminded Buck of his younger self, the guy that had been interested in nothing but chasing tail and hoping that that would fill the parts of him that were broken. It hadn’t ever worked, at least not for long. Vividly, he could recall wanting to make connections with those girls and the way that they’d all looked at him like he was asking for far too much.
“For one thing, I’m not seeing anyone. For another, dating apps are still a thing even if completely inadvisable because we’re in the middle of a pandemic. It might even be good for you to not be hooking up with random girls.”
Albert just pouted at him and groaned. “I just want this to be over.”
“So does everyone,” Buck pointed out.
Albert would probably have made a good choice in finding someone to tell about the therapy. He was a good kid and if Buck asked him to, he wouldn’t go blabbing to everyone else. Not to mention that Albert was a bit removed from it all too in his own way. Still, when Buck opened his mouth to say something, the words didn’t want to come out.
The next time he was at work and Eddie was walking at his side, Buck turned towards him, and Eddie’s gaze met his. They shared a quick smile. It was easy, a habit.
“How’s Christopher?” Buck asked.
“Misses Carla. Misses everyone, really, but after all that time with Carla he got used to having her around all the time.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you around, man,” Buck said.
Eddie nudged him. “You know, Buck, I didn’t even think about it that way.”
Buck shrugged at him. Being around Eddie made most of everything else fade away. And when later that day, they were walking from the ladder truck onto a call, Buck just threw a grin his way and Eddie returned it.
At the end of their shift, Buck walked with Eddie to their cars.
“Do you remember, before all this, we’d just head over to mine or yours with Christopher. I miss those nights,” Eddie said.
Buck hadn’t thought about it. He tried not to think about before — about how different life had been back then and how similar because even then he’d done that thing where he pretended that everything was alright. He’d kept it to himself how alone he felt and he’d kept it to himself that sometimes when he and Eddie were sitting in his living room side by side, he wished that it was permanent. It wasn’t about Eddie — or even about Christopher — it was about how Buck longed to have people. Family.
That had been a thing for a long time. Long before Abby and before he’d moved to California when he’d gone from place to place trying to find himself and trying desperately to belong. The 118 had been one of the first places where he began to feel like he’d found a place, but he’d soon found that it wasn’t enough. It was one thing to love a job and to make it all that he was, but if his time recovering from the ladder truck incident had taught him anything, it was that he needed more outside of the job. It was just that he had no luck finding it.
“Me too,” Buck said and then before they had reached their cars. “Hey, Eddie, can we talk tonight?”
Eddie’s face showed some of his surprise. They had never acknowledged it before, not out loud outside of the phone calls or outside of Buck’s bedroom.
“Sure we can,” Eddie said, crinkles around his eyes forming as he smiled.
Buck nodded and then he climbed into his Jeep.
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