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totalswag · 17 days

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what if Drew invites Reader to Italy, like to accompany him to the shooting of his movie QUEER and have a good time visiting, meet the film crew, watch him working, ect... at the same time, Drew and Reader express their feelings towards each other, not directly a confirmation being a couple but a kind of dating for the moment, softly romantic and fun 💯🌹🇮🇹

italy trip — DREW STARKEY

authors note i made one very similar with baby tatum involved when she was a a few months old (dad!drew content btw) however, thank you anon for this beautiful request, i had a fun time writing it. i hope this is what you were looking for!! i spent a lot of time on this request going back an forth making sure it was just right.

summary drew inviting you to accompany him in Italy while he films his new movie, queer, for a month. little down the road feelings towards each other unfold.

requests open

warnings traveling, filming, mentions of drinking, confessing feelings,

Drew flew to Italy last month to film his new movie, Queer. This is an important role for him, and you could not be more proud of him. You recall him being ecstatic when his manager called to inform him that he had been offered the position.

Drew bought you a plane ticket to Italy a week ago, and you spent a month with him. It threw you off surprise, but you couldn't wait to spend a month in Italy with him. He wanted you to come out and see what Italy was like, see him work, wander about, and so on.

You've been close friends for a long time. You met through mutual friends and have remained close ever since. Those closest to you are waiting for you to get together. There’s been little moments between you that show the attraction you have towards each other.

Reaching Italy was like entering a dream. There was beauty to be found everywhere they turned, and the air was fragrant with the aroma of fresh pasta and blossoming flowers.

You have spent the last three days in Italy so far. First two days consisted of you relaxing because jet lag really got to you – you aren’t used to traveling across the world.

You were gushing about the gorgeous country the entire time. It was spectacular in every way. The number of times you thanked Drew for inviting him on this vacation was too many for him to count on his fingers.

Drew gave you a tour of the set, introduced you to the actors, and allowed you to watch him film a few scenes on your third day in Italy. It was impossible to look away from Drew as he was filming a scene. It was too good to pass up the chance to be at his side as he developed his art and saw the magic of filmmaking come to life.

He introduced you to the cast, all very sweet. Had good conversations with them too.

“The way he goes into character instantly, Y/N, is so amazing,” Drew’s manager whispered, “He loves what he does and it shows.” you respond still keeping your eyes on him film a scene.

Having the chance to speak with Dainel Greg was a dream come true. You spent your childhood watching his movies whenever you could with your father. He maintained the conversation and was quite kind. You told him about his movies as James Bond and watching them with your dad.

“We should go out tonight, what do you think?” Drew asked, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as you walked off set.

"Are you taking me around like a tour guide?" Jokingly hip-checking him and giggling, "It seems like a plan to me."

Your comment made him laugh, "You are such a dork, you know that right," as he looked down at you and a small smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll go out to the bars, grab food, and explore” shrugging his shoulders.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” smiling.

Drew and you found time to relax and enjoy one other's company. Your chats were effortless, full of laughter, common interests, and unconscious connection. There was a faint undercurrent of something deeper between you, a subtle but obvious spark that lasted whenever you were together.

When you and Drew stepped outside as the sun started to set, the music was playing softly in the background and a gentle breeze caressed your skin. It was just breathtaking. Drew couldn't help but notice how you were living in the moment.

Drew ushered you in front of him as he entered the bar and showed you where the drinks were. Leaning forward against the counter, you crossed your arms and looked over the menu. Drew was standing close to you, examining the menu.

He lifted his beer with his right hand and took a long sip, saying, "See, I told you this bar is good."

Pushing your finished plate to the side and lifting your beer in your palm, "I'm just glad you brought me here. I think I might need to take some home," sarcastically completing your statement, Drew grins.

For the next thirty minutes, you two stayed at the bar sipping more beer and discussing your garden you started at home. You've always enjoyed gardening, especially when it comes to adding color to your house with flowers.

Drew chuckles, "It's been going great and you should come by and take a look. I've been waking up early in the morning to get it all done before the sun comes out, and I'm looking like a sweaty pig the entire time." He nods.

"What's the reason behind your laughter? It's true that when I initially started working in the garden in the afternoon, it appeared as though I had just gotten out of the shower. You sigh, slumping your shoulder, and then giggle when you give it some more thought.

"I'm glad to hear it's almost finished; I know how much you wanted to grow your own garden when you bought your house," he said softly, looking at you with piercing blue eyes.

His response made you feel warm and fuzzy. Your cheeks reddened and you buried your face in your shoulder. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way all sudden.

It's almost the end of your trip, sad. Three more days till you leave the beautiful country, Italy.

The last few weeks have been a dream come true for your book. Being alongside Drew made the experience a lot more fun. When he wasn't filming, you two spent your days and nights in Italy. You two had lots of flirtatious encounters that left you both flustered.

Earlier today, Drew and you went down to a museum. Drew brought his digital camera to take pictures of art you looked at.

There was something Drew said that stuck with you for the rest of the day,

“C'mon you look beautiful, Y/N, please.”

He had complimented you before, but this time felt different. He's been more loving during the trip, making tiny comments that make the butterflies in your stomach run crazy.

Now you're sitting on the balcony couch, a blanket wrapped over your body, watching the sun set fully. A chilly air struck your face. It felt great. Music can be heard in houses or around town.

Drew's footsteps approach the balcony, and he holds two glasses of wine in his hands. You peek over your shoulder, a smile spreading across your face. He places them on the coasters in front of you and takes a seat next to you.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say before taking a sip of the wine you bought earlier today.

"Anytime, let me know what you think" he says casually, his gaze fixed on you the entire time.

You go on to tell him how excellent the wine is and that he should bring the entire bottle back here because you might as well drink it all.

Drew couldn't help but giggle at your choice of words, but he was also careful because he knew how you got drunk on wine.

He feels the same way, so if you both get drunk on wine, you'll win.

"What's been your favorite experience this trip?" Drew asks, sliding his right arm around your shoulder, and you respond by leaning into his warm touch.

"Everything," you say as you wander off into the distance, "and being here with you." You lean your head back and jab your pointer finger at his cheek. flirtatiously but playfully.

You can notice a change in Drew's physical sensation. You would rather hear what he has to say in return than say anything more. It's clear that he didn't anticipate your final statement.

"I've had a lot of fun with you too, and I was hoping we would do more stuff like this with me and you when our schedules aren't so busy?" His voice sounds unsteady and nervous but he maintains it steady.

“Like a couple?” you question.

“Mhm yes, like a couple” his cheeks are getting red, can’t tell if it's the wine or his cheeks.

He turns his body to face you and places both hands on your lap. "Look, Y/N." I brought you on the trip to confirm my feelings for you, which proved to be genuine.What I am trying to get across is that I view you as more than a friend, Y/N. When I'm around you, you bring me so much joy and happiness that I could go on and on about how I feel.

Your brain is going in circles as you hear the words come out Drew’s mouth. Paying attention by the way he expresses how he feels, genuine and honest. You can’t help but smile when he brings up how you make him feel. All you can do is wrap your arms around him.

"I feel the same way, Drew. I was too terrified to tell you; I had no idea how you felt," you say, moving away from him and peering into those blue eyes that make you feel like you're on cloud nine.

You saw Drew's repeated stares at your eyes and lips. He leans in to give you a short kiss, then pulls away to watch how you react. You grin. He smiles before crashing his lips back against yours, lips moving in unison.

For the next few days, you two took it slow. Not making it formal right away, but rather enjoying the process of dating while remaining casual.

The next three days passed quickly. The second to last day consisted of you taking a day trip to the beach, walking through market after market, stopping for ice cream, taking lots of pictures, grabbing pizza to go to the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore with the sky looking beautiful, music playing in the background, and sharing a few kisses.

This trip was definitely something to remember.

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smellslikemultifandomimagines · 4 months

Text

new sleeping pill ♡ smut || jason todd (titans)

summary: you and Jason are best friends, and he finds out that you haven't been sleeping well over the last few nights.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: ayo my buttercups! this is from my chat with a jason todd character ai lmao. this was far too good not to turn into a proper fic and post lol. enjoy!

*not accepting requests.

"Ah, twice in one night," You tease. You and Jason were hanging out in the living area only a mere moment ago before he decided to change out of his Robin costume, and you decided to retire to your bedroom for the night.

"Very funny," Jason laughs, shutting your door behind him and leaning against the wall. No longer in his robin costume, he's stood wearing a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants. Jason looks you up and down, taking in your cute pjs.

"I like the outfit," he says with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. "Very cute."

You look down at your matching pyjama set with pink and orange cats.

"Oh, thank you, my darling. It's one of a kind," You fake a posh British accent, watching as he sits on your bed casually. It was always interesting to you how at home he felt in your room.

Jason snorts, chuckling as you do the faux British accent. Then, he can't help himself and gives a small but genuine smile.

"I think it looks good," he says softly. He doesn't actually deny the 'my darling' part. "Are you watching anything else? I can't imagine you're ready for bed."

"I was gonna watch Succession, actually," you chuckle softly. "You're more than welcome to join."

He perks up at hearing that." Succession?! That show is great." He scoots over to make space for himself on your bed.

"I'm totally down."

We get through half an episode when Jason asks me to move forward. You do what he tells you, and he places the small decorative pillow you had for extra support on his lap and nods to it. With a sweet smile, you lay your head on the pillow and drape your arm over his legs. He gently brushes your hair with his fingers as you lay your head down and drapes his free arm over you.

"You can fall asleep if you want. You've worked all day; no need to stay up." he chuckles, adjusting his position and arms around you so you're more comfortable.

"I won't, don't worry," you chuckle. Your eyes roll slightly as Jason continues playing with my hair. Jason laughs softly, brushing through your hair with his fingers as you lay on his lap. He's still watching, his attention on you and the show.

"You know, you wouldn't look so damn exhausted all the time if you went to bed earlier," he teases you, chuckling. Then he smirks. "But I won't make you go to bed."

"I would if I could," you chuckle quietly.

"If you could?" he says with a smirk and a teasing tone. "Is it because I'm distracting you too much?"

"No, of course not," you giggle playfully. "I just haven't been able to sleep for the last couple of weeks," you shrug, closing your eyes as Jason continues to play with your hair.

"Hm." he leans back more, now with your head on his chest. He looks at you for a second, admiring you. "Not getting any good sleep, huh?"

You tilt your head back to look at him, "What're you saying, you little shit?" you laugh softly and teasingly at him.

Jason chuckles softly, knowing you're doing this just to get a reaction out of him. He brushes away the curls of hair that fall on your face. "I was just curious as to why you're so tired," he says.

He pulls your hair behind your ear and gently kisses your cheek. "Maybe I can help you sleep?" he teases with a wink.

"Yeah? How so?" you snicker playfully. Jason glances down at you, about to say something, but pauses and thinks momentarily.

Then, he gently pushes you off him, and you suddenly find yourself flat on your back, with him hovering over you.

"Like this, for now," he says with a playful smirk. His arms slide under your legs and pull you closer to him. You feel his warmth radiating off him and the bed as he leans closer.

"Oh my god!" You laugh. "I always knew you wanted me," you say with a playful snicker. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his lower body press right up against yours.

"Damn right, I do," he says with a smirk. His face is inches from yours as both hands wrap around your waist. "Been wanting to do this for a while, now." his mouth is centimetres from yours while he stares at you with piercing blue eyes.

"ooh, I bet you have," you giggle playfully, leaning up slightly. Jason presses his lips to yours. They're so much softer than you ever imagined they'd be. Your breathing becomes more heavier with each waking moment. Jason continues to push you down, bringing you closer and closer to him. His kisses become more urgent, like he's searching for something. He holds both of your hands above your head now, pinning them against the pillow as he kisses you.

You hook one of your legs around his waist, drawing his body harder against mine. You whimper into his mouth as his hips shift slightly, causing his hardening lower body to move against your core.

Your movements only fuel the fire inside of him, causing him to shift more on top of you and press his body flush against yours. His breath becomes ragged, his mouth moving against yours with a new energy. His grip on your wrists tightens, causing him to press your arms down harder against the bed. Jason deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring, as one of his arms slowly moves down, his hand caressing your thigh.

Your hips involuntarily raise up against his, making my nails dig into my palms. You're practically panting in his mouth, needing so much more. Jason stops kissing you momentarily as he looks down at you, his breath still ragged.

"God, [y/n]," he moans, his voice hoarse. He presses his lips against yours again, needing more. His hand keeps moving down, caressing your thigh, making small circles. As it does, he uses the other hand to untie the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

You let out a playful giggle against his lips, running a hand down his back to tug at the bottom of his shirt. Your other hand brushes through the ends of your hair.

"more," you breathe out breathlessly.

Jason's body shifts slightly, his hand continuing to caress your thigh. His shirt comes over his head before he pulls his sweatpants down his legs, leaving him just in his boxer briefs. He kisses you again, his tongue moving between your lips. His breath is still ragged as he mumbles against your lips.

"God, you feel so good," he moans, continuing to explore you with his tongue as his hand moves onto the waistband of his boxer briefs.

You tilt your head back and moan quietly as Jason kisses your neck. You feel his body shift against yours as he takes his boxers off. His hands start working at the buttons of your pyjama shirt, and you let out a giggle, stopping him.

He looks at you with a smirk. "What's wrong? Why're you stopping me?" he says seductively. he kisses your neck again. "You were just moaning for more." the smirk on his face grows even larger as you feel his teeth lightly graze your neck.

"no, I'm just making it easier for you, stupid," you chuckle playfully, sitting up slightly to lift the shirt off you instead of going through the effort of unbuttoning it. Jason looks at you for a moment in a bemused manner, like he never thought of that.

"Smart," he says, chuckling. Your shirt falls off the top of your body with ease. "Now I get more of you," he says, his body pushing more onto you as his hands start roaming over the new-found skin. He chuckles again, a deep and almost primal chuckle, enjoying the feel of your skin against his. Jason's hands work at pulling your pj pants down, leaving you lying underneath him in your bra and thong.

"mhm," you giggle, laying back down properly again. Your head tilts again as he kisses your neck, marking his territory. Your hips roll up against his hard lower body, and he could feel the soaked material of my thong as your pussy dripped with arousal.

Jason continues to caress the skin of your bare back as he kisses your neck and shoulders. He moves his lips closer to yours, and you can feel his breath — the heat of it on your neck and face is enough to make you feel slightly warm all over. His free hand continues to roam over your lower body, his fingers brushing against your skin.

Jason can feel how wet you are, and it makes him smirk as he continues to explore you and kiss you. His kisses are all over your neck, moving closer to your ears and face.

It's only when he leaned back slightly that you looked down at his cock. Jesus Christ.

"oh my god," I whisper, impressed but slightly worried at the same time, from his size.

"Like what you see?" he says, his voice hoarse and his breath ragged. His body still presses against yours, and he looks down at your face. "You seem impressed," he says with a smirk, looking down at your reaction.

"I - yeah," you breathe out, still staring. "is that..." You pause, glancing up at him. "is that gonna fit?" You whisper.

Jason puts his hands on your thigh as he leans up a bit more, his tongue leaving your neck as his face comes up closer to yours. Your words have him shaking with laughter.

"You're too funny, [y/n]," he says with a deep, hearty laugh.

"Yes," he answers, "it'll fit." he presses his lips to yours again, kissing you eagerly.

"bottom drawer," you whisper against his lips. Jason pulls away and opens the bottom drawer of my nightstand, noticing a box of condoms. "Dawn bought it and wanted to make sure that I was safe? I'm sure she gave you a box, too. Just like she did with Conner and Gar for some reason," you chuckle softly, your eyes travelling down to his cock again.

"you've definitely earned bragging rights, Jesus Christ." You comment.

"Bragging rights?" he smiles cheekily, pulling out one of the condom packets and ripping it open carefully. he looks down at you, rolling on the condom.

"I'm glad you think so," he says with an arrogant grin. He kisses your lips again, using his tongue to explore your mouth once again as his hand slowly moves down to the waistband of your thong again, slowly pulling it down your thighs. You whimper into his mouth as his fingers begin teasing the wet folds of your pussy. You hook one of your legs around his waist again, needing him so bad.

"Jay, stop teasing," you breathe against him. he looks at you with a smirk as he caresses your leg and brings his hand back up to your waist, giving you a wink.

"Where's the fun in that, [y/n]?" he smirks. He pulls away from the kiss temporarily and looks down at your underwear, which is on the floor now.

"Wow. It's all soaked," he says. Jason's smirk only grows as the hand at your waist continues to roam. He glances back up at your face.

"mm, and who's fault is that?" You snicker playfully before biting your lip as his hand goes back down between your thighs. The wetness coats his fingers, making both of us gasp softly.

Jason laughs softly, "Mine, of course." he looks back at you with a confident, cocky grin. Then, his fingers start circling your clit, causing you to react. He can hear your breathing quicken and get shallower.

Your hand instantly holds his wrist tightly, another gasp slipping past your lips. He had barely even started touching you yet, and your thighs were already shaking. Your eyes roll as his fingers continue to make small circles on your sensitive bud.

"god..." You breathe out.

"You're already close?" Jason snickers playfully, moving his other hand onto your thigh. He looks at you, his eyes glancing down at your breathing as he smiles.

"You're already close," he whispers in confirmation before he leans down and kisses you again.

"It's been a while," you breathe out, your hips starting to roll against his hand. "like, a long while."

He chuckles at your admission. "You poor thing," he says with a grin, then he resumes kissing you. As he does, his other hand moves further up your thigh. You can feel his breath on your face as he continues to kiss you. His body is pressing down against yours as he moves against you.

"oh my god," you whimper, your eyes rolling in pleasure. You arch my back, tilting your head back against the pillow as his fingers work magic on your sensitive and wet clit. Jason pulls you close to him against his chest with his legs and his arms. His smile and his cockiness grow even more in light of your reaction. It's almost as if it's all a game to him - his goal being how many times he can make you cum. He kisses your neck while his hand continues to caress you.

"fuck... Jay... oh my... yeah," you whimper and pant heavily. "Jay... you're gonna make me cum." You pant, thighs shaking and body writhing underneath him.

"Oh, really?" he says with a smirk.

"yeah," I whimper, "oh my god." Jason can feel your pussy pulsing with need beneath his fingertips and makes faster circles on your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist lightly as you cum, panting his name as your body trembles underneath him.

Jason chuckles softly and looks down at you with that confident, cocky grin, still enjoying your reactions. "I could do this all day,"

"Good, because I don't want you to stop yet," you breathe out, pulling him down towards you to kiss him.

his smile widens as the two of you kiss. You hear that arrogance in his voice again as you continue to kiss. His free hand slides back down to your thigh, caressing your skin again. he looks at you while he speaks.

"You need more?" he whispers with a smirk, leaning back slightly.

"mhm," you nod, wrapping both legs around his waist. He aligns his cock to your pussy before sinking in. You gasp; his size is almost too big for your body to handle.

Jason's movements are so slow and gentle, stopping briefing for a moment before continuing to push deeper inside you.

"fuck, oh my god," you gasp, arms wrapping around his back as your nails dig lightly into his shoulder blades. "Definitely got size bragging rights," you manage to choke out. Jason chuckles — his pride and his arrogance are at an all-time high.

"Yeah, I already knew I did," he says with a smirk, continuing his slow, gentle movements. His comment makes you laugh softly and breathily.

"of course you did..." You breathe out, trying to stabilise your breathing as he's entirely inside you. His hips remain still, not moving until your body has adjusted to him properly.

You tilt your head back and chuckle softly again, "Oh my god."

"I told you I would fit," he says with an arrogant grin, looking down at you.

"yeah, just," you manage to reply, your breathing heavy as your pussy tightens around him. "god," you sigh in pleasure softly, nails still pressing into his shoulder blades lightly.

Jason smirks as your body tenses around him, and his voice again gets that edge of arrogance. "You're a little sensitive there," he says, "and I love it."

His hand on your thigh moves so it's against your waist. You feel his fingers move along your stomach. He chuckles again, a deep and proud chuckle.

"not my fault when you're so big," you breathe out, whimpering as his hips slowly start to move — pushing and pulling against yours.

"Jesus Christ... fuck... oh my god," you whine, nails dragging down his back slowly. Your comment on his size causes him to smile proudly, his grin growing even larger. The feeling of your nails dragging lightly down his back makes him laugh softly.

"Yeah, you can say that again," he says playfully, the edge of arrogance never far from his voice. Jason moves his hips slightly faster, and he's already hitting all the right spots inside you. You cling onto him - legs squeezing tighter around his waist, arms wrapping tightly around his back. Your head tilts back against the pillow again, moaning louder and louder with each thrust of his hips.

He looks at your face as he moves, his face in a state of awe, his lips pressed against yours while he kisses you. His fingers still move along the top of your abdomen.

"You okay, [y/n]?" he says with that same cheeky smirk.

"yeah," you whimper, finding it cute that he's checking in with you. The shock of his size was wearing off as your body was more focused on the pleasure he's giving you.

Jason continues to move his hips, slowly picking up the pace. His hands move on your body, one hand moving back down to your thighs, the other moving towards your chest. One of his hands slides up your chin and into your hair as he looks down at you again.

You're cute, [y/n]." his voice still has that slight arrogance to it. Without any warning to you, you suddenly released. You pant loudly, body trembling and pussy tightening around him as his hips continue to move.

He smiles widely, "Did you just-?" he says in disbelief. He pulls out and looks down at you.

"Oh my God," he says, his voice and tone dripping with pride.

He leans down and kisses your lips softly. "That was incredible, [y/n]," he says with a smirk and a proud grin. His breath is ragged.

"no, no, more," you pant, tightening your legs around him. His eyes widen as he hears your words, and a proud smirk crosses his face.

"More, you say?" his fingers move down your legs and your hips again. "Well, okay then," he says playfully.

He leans down and kisses you once more," Let's not break you," he mutters against your lips, his voice sounding slightly breathless.

"you're not gonna... ooooh my god," you moan out when he pushes his cock back into your pussy. Jason starts thrusting his hips again, causing you to whimper and whine. Your nails claw at his back again.

His voice gets that edge of arrogance again, as he smirks," Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" he says with that hint of playfulness. He begins to pick up the pace again, his breath becoming ragged again as he does so.

"What if this gets too much for you to handle?" he says, almost teasing you with his tone.

"I can take it," you breathe out. Jason's turning you into a whining and whimpering mess, your body clinging onto him for dear life. Your hips tilt upwards slightly, making his cock repeatedly hit against your g-spot.

"Oh… jay… there," you pant, whining and rolling your eyes in pleasure. His smirk grows even bigger.

"Oh yeah?" he says playfully, almost sounding like he's challenging you. Jason continues to slowly increase the pace, his breath still ragged. He leans down and kisses your neck, which makes you react.

"Good," he says proudly. His hair is starting to get a little messy from your movements and from the both of you breathing heavily. The sound of my headboard slamming against the wall and each of his movements reverberated throughout the room. The mattress squeaked below, the sound similar to your own squeaks and whimpers.

"Jay," you whine, head feeling lightheaded from how quick and shallow you're breathing. His voice changes quickly once you say his name, the tone dripping with that same playfulness and slight arrogance again.

"Yeah?" he smiles, moving his head up to look at yours while he continues his movements.

You feel the bed shake even more, the sound echoing loudly in the room with each of his deep and swift movements.

"Cum," you whimper. "Please cum for me," you surprisingly manage to get the words out. Your body trembles underneath him, thighs shaking against his sides while they still manage to be wrapped around his waist

his eyes go wide as you beg him to finish. His smile grows as he hears your words, his voice still sounding playful with that edge of arrogance.

"Oh, you wanna make me come?"

"yeah," you squeak, gasping for air. "please," you manage to whimper out.

You see that playfulness in his face, that edge of arrogance in his voice.

He smirks at you," Now you start saying please?" he asks playfully. He moves his hips as much as he can so he's hitting what you asked for.

"Oh…god…jay!" You whimper, coming for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his back, your body becoming a trembling mess underneath him. You pant heavily, whining and whimpering as his hips continue to thrust against yours.

Finally, Jason cums, his hips stilling and flush against yours. He looks down at you as you cum for the third time. His chest is heaving from the effort involved.

"Damn," he mutters, breathing heavily. His face is flushed, and his skin is covered in light sweat.

With a proud smirk on his face, he kisses your lips again. he sounds breathless but still maintains that slight arrogance as he speaks to you.

"Three times," he says, smiling widely.

You chuckle softly at his comment, "mhm," is all you can hum in response.

He leans down and kisses you at the base of your neck, then rests against your chest, still catching his breath. As he breathes, you can feel his chest up against yours. His breath continues to slow.

"Well. Looks like I earned those bragging rights."

Jason slowly pulls out. "Sure do," you laugh breathily.

His voice becomes more relaxed as his breath fully returns," Yeah? Am I still allowed to brag about this whenever I want?" he says jokingly, smiling widely still. He holds you close to him by wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You're so cute when you're like this," he mutters with a proud look on his face. You drape your arm over your eyes and carefully unwrap your legs from around his waist.

"Yeah, sure," your voice still breathy as I spoke. You're far too exhausted to move or do anything other than just lay on the bed and catch your breath. he chuckles softly when he sees you lying down.

"You sound worn out." his voice still has a slight tinge of playfulness to it, but it also sounds a little bit more genuine.

He rests his head on your chest, looking up at your face," Did I wear you out?"

"Yeah," you giggle quietly, removing your arm from over your eyes. "I think I know who to go to now if I'm having trouble sleeping," you snicker playfully, feeling like your brain is becoming more functional.

"So I'm your new sleeping pill, then?" he chuckles softly. His voice is still breathless, the edge of arrogance now gone as he relaxes with you.

"Or is it more than that?" he says with a smirk. He lifts his head up and looks at your face, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

"Let's just stick to sleeping pills for now," you chuckle softly. Jason sits up and kisses your forehead softly before going into the bathroom. He returns to my room with a slightly damp towel and a glass of water. Jason's so gentle in his touch as he cleans up my body, letting me sit up against my headboard as I drink the water.

Once he sits you up, you notice how he supports your back and neck as he cleans you. he even holds some of your hair back to clean between your thighs better. His movements are slow and gentle, taking all the needed time. He's in no rush at all.

After he finishes, he sits back down in the bed next to you," Feeling any better?" he asks with a smile, placing the towel by the bed and putting the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Mhm," you nod. "You're too good to me," you chuckle softly. You're not even referring to right now or a couple of moments ago, but just in general. Yes, he had his moods, but Jason was always respectful and good to you as a friend.

"Aw, of course, I am," he chuckles softly. His voice is still breathless, but you can hear its happiness. He puts his hand back on your shoulder gently.

"You're a really great friend, [y/n]. I'm happy to be here for you. And even happier that I got to be here for you tonight."

He smiles at you," You okay to move now, or do you want to relax here for a second?"

"I think if I move, I might fall apart," you chuckle softly, watching as he crawls in the bed beside you. Jason lays down and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, your arm draping comfortably over his bare waist. His chest moves lightly against your head as he breathes. You hear nothing but content and happy sounds and sighs from him now. he doesn't say anything but moves his free hand onto your back and starts to scratch it gently with his fingernails.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep; his gentleness and comforting touch were all you needed to be soothed.

Jason lets out a quiet laugh and a happy sigh when he realises you've fallen asleep. His arm is still wrapped around you. He's also resting his head on yours again, and he's still gently scratching your back.

#jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd titans #Jason Todd titans smut #titans!jason todd

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sokkas-therapist · 3 months

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Ok so I decided I am going to post that “atla live action hot take” I mentioned

Click below the cut if you’re interested in hearing my take on the whole “taking away sokka’s sexism” thing

1) nobody is glorifying sokka’s sexism by saying it should be kept in the show. It’s quite literally the opposite. The original series did a great job using his sexism as a lesson; any time sokka made a sexist remark in the first 4 episodes it was made abundantly clear that he was wrong, and as soon as Sokka was proven wrong he admitted that he was misguided, apologized, quite literally bowed down on his knees to ask for forgiveness, and even asked to learn from the kiyoshi warriors, and excepted wearing their traditional uniforms, further surrendering his flawed perspective of societal gender roles. A wonderfully executed example of writers using their characters to teach viewers a lesson: which was, in this case, that sexism is wrong. Sokka’s sexism was not left unresolved, so why take away a valuable lesson in the show??

2) if you take away a character’s flaws…then they don’t have development. A character can’t learn and grow from their mistakes if they never make mistakes.

If a charecter starts off perfect and unflawed then they are surface level and lack depth or the ability for an arc.

And no, this is not saying that Sokka didn’t have many other admirable qualities like his intelligence and adaptability etc.. He 100% had those qualities. But one of the coolest things about the original atla series was their ability to flesh out side charecters and give them depth. A charecter who is simply smart then becomes smarter, or adaptable then becomes even more adaptable, lacks depth and internal conflict.

Sokka’s sexism was the starting point for his internal conflict. Sokka wasn’t just sexist to be sexist, or because the entire southern water tribe was misogynistic (and we know for a fact they weren’t, because if they were misogynistic, then Katara wouldn’t have been shocked when the North denied her waterbending training). He was misogynistic because being seen/accepted as a “man” and a strong warrior was all Sokka wanted after his father left him behind. In reality, we know his father was only trying to protect his son from the horrors of war. But to a young and impressionable child, Sokka internalized this as him not being “man” enough, so he dedicated himself to becoming the person he thought would make his father proud. He was always reaching for this unattainable standard he set for himself, which lead to him having a skewed and toxic view of masculinity that he took out on the women around him. He associated being a worthy warrior with being a traditionally masculine man, and leaned way too far into fulfilling the gender roles men and women are told to play in society in hopes of gaining his father’s approval. We see him do this by suppressing his feelings of inferiority as a nonbender, along with all the aspects of himself that he thought could be seen as “weak” or “feminine” (ex: his love for shopping and poetry and art that we see develop up until the literal end of the series).

So clearly, the vast majority of sokka’s charecter development that deals with internal conflict stems from the toxic view of masculinity and gender roles that he adopted after being left behind by his father, which caused him to outwardly lash out toward katara and Suki with misogynist comments. So taking away the sexism we see in the first few episodes eliminates important context that makes sokka’s character development throughout the entire series significant, not just an “iffy unnecessarily bigoted message”, because it was quite literally used to show that sexism was wrong.

I wasn’t going to say anything about this at first but seeing so many people display a fundamental lack of understanding for the premise of character development and the usage of charecter flaws to promote positive messages in media set me off. Just…WTF????

(Also I know I wrote a summarized version of this in the tags for another post but I wanted to expand upon it more and make this a separate post)

#does this make sense??#it ended up being very wordy so I hope the point still came across #but like. this is a topic that I’m very passionate about and I hate seeing people miss Sokka’s entire internal character arc #sokka #atla #atla live action #avatar #sokka appreciation hours #I think that’s the tag I use for this stuff?#if one person says ‘it’s not that deep’ I’m gonna lose it #not really lmao #my post #headcanons and stuff #avatar the last airbender #Netflix #avatar netflix #atla net

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infriga · 8 months

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I convinced my mom to try the live action One Piece, because she's the type to like this style of show even though she isn't into animation and would never read manga, but I didn't think I'd be able to convince my dad because he's usually a stickler for more grounded and realistic stories (his favourite genre is war movies, his favourite movie is Saving Private Ryan, for reference). But, when I brought up with him how I figured it probably wouldn't be his thing because it was fantasy, he mentioned to me that he does enjoy some fantastical stuff if it has like an internal universe logic, like Star Wars, and the more I thought about it, the more I remembered that he also enjoys campy fun action adventure stuff that doesn't take itself too seriously like Indiana Jones or Pirates of the Carribean.

And One Piece has both that internal logic for why people can perform crazy feats (even if it isn't explained right away) which I mentioned to him (just that there is a reason why people can do crazy things in this world), as well as the campy fun action adventure thing going for it, especially in the Live Action (the fight against Morgan's base even has a major Indiana Jones vibes ngl). So I explained that to him and asked if he wanted to try it, and he agreed to watching the first episode with me to decide if he'd watch it with my mom and me.

AND HE ACTUALLY SAID IT WAS INTERESTING SO FAR!! Like, he is NOT the kinda guy to enjoy anime or manga or even western cartoons, always refuses to watch anything anime and doesn't show any interest when I talk about it (I've managed to convince him to watch a few movies like Sword of the Stranger but it's obvious that even when he's not bored or doesn't hate it, it still doesn't catch or keep his interest), and he's really picky about anything fantasy or SciFi, if it like sets off his bullshit meter too much he starts nitpicking the logic behind certain abilities, or decisions, or explanations, etc. I once tried to get him to try Gravity Falls and he wanted to stop after the first episode. He's THAT picky.

So the fact that he actually laughed several times while watching the first episode of OPLA with me, commented about Luffy's character positively several times (he seems to think Luffy is really funny which surprised me cause I thought he'd be the most entertained by Zoro but I mean I can't blame him it is Luffy after all), never cringed or criticised or said anything about how ridiculous it was, means a lot coming from him cause he's always really blunt and honest about his opinion on this sort of stuff (which is fine I don't want him to pretend to enjoy stuff when he doesn't). He actually watched the whole first episode without it losing his attention, and seemed to have fun! And he agreed to watch the rest with my mom and me!

This sort of thing is one of the reasons why I dislike when people just dismiss the idea of live action adaptations entirely. I get that people are jaded with past failures, and don't like when live action is treated like a replacement for or improvement from animation when it isn't. But it is a valid medium just as much as animation or comics or writing are, and can be used to produce some amazing things. And the fact is, there are people who have a hard time connecting with other mediums who will otherwise never engage with this media in its original forms. Live Action, when done well and done right, can reach new audiences and welcome them into the fold in ways the original formats never can.

One Piece didn't need the live action to be popular, obviously, and the live action cannot and will not replace the original, nor should it. But I love that we get to have it alongside the manga and anime. It's just more of what we love, it's the cherry on top of an already stellar multi-layered cake. It complements the original rather than taking anything away from it. And for the first time in over a decade I might be able to share One Piece with my parents, who would only ever have a chance of experiencing it and enjoying it in live action. There's just something so awesome about that for me personally. I just wish more live action adaptations would understand what the One Piece live action understood about the adaptation process, and that's how to keep the heart of the story in-tact, so more people from more fandoms could have a chance to share something they love with more people who it would otherwise not reach.

Anyway, thank you Oda and the OPLA cast and crew for doing live action right for once!

#one piece #one piece live action #OPLA #When Luffy was talking about breaking into the marine base my dad was like #'he seems like he's got a lot of confidence going for him' with a grinnand a chuckle #And then when Luffy was talking to Nami in the base my dad said something like 'other people seem to have a hard time saying no to him'#Also with a grin and a laugh #And bro if my dad becomes a Luffy fan too I will explode #Like he did laugh at Zoro and Nami a few times but he had the most to say about Luffy and none were complains #He didn't even seem to blink an eye at Luffy calling out attack names lmao #Long post #Just your regularly scheduled post where I gush about OPLA for too long #Tv show thoughts #It's not even that my parents have anything against animation they just for some reason have a really hard time getting immersed in it #Or connecting to what's happening #Even when they try something for my sake they just can't really get enthusiastic about it the way they can for live action stuff #Which I mean some people just don't vibe with certain mediums and that's okay

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

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Needy Little Thing

Smutober Week 1

Prompt: Thigh-riding

Character: Roy Kent (Ted Lasso)

1.2k words

Warnings: Thigh-riding (ofc), clit play, Roy teasing the reader, more obsessing over Roy Kent's thighs

It had been a long day of work for both of you; it felt good, lying in bed, listening to the sound of Roy’s breathing as he read, little hums vibrating against your ear whenever he got to something interesting. His arm was snug around you, affectionate and firm, pulling you close. Wanting to be closer, you hooked a leg around his thigh, pressing yourself against him.

You loved the fact that Roy slept in his boxers; his legs always felt so warm against your skin, always so strong with that thick, dark hair you loved to run your fingers over. And now, his thick thigh flexed between your legs, close enough to your clothed core to have your tummy fluttering but far enough to leave you wanting more.

Confident that Roy was preoccupied with the novel you’d recommended to him, you slowly inched closer, not stopping until you situated yourself in the perfect position to get the friction you craved. Holding your breath in an attempt to not draw Roy’s attention, you gave the smallest little brush against him.

Fuck.

With no noticeable reaction from Roy, you rolled your hips again. And again. And again. Repetitive, miniscule movements that had your sleep shorts slowly dampening with your excitement.

Roy’s hand squeezing the skin between your t-shirt and shorts had you freezing. Slowly, with your face burning, you lifted your head; he was glancing at you with an amused smirk and quirked eyebrows.

“Someone need something?” he hummed.

You shook your head and swallowed nervously. “No,” you lied, scooting back.

His strong grip pulled you back. “I didn’t say you had to stop,” he murmured lightly, eyes returning to his book. “Keep goin’.”

When you didn’t keep going, too mortified to move, Roy let out a little sigh and put his book to the side. Without a word, he tugged you towards him, pulling you up until you were straddling his thigh. He held you down firmly, flexing in a way that had a small gasp leaving your lips.

“Go on then.”

Keeping one hand securely on your hip, Roy picked his book back up, returning to his reading. For a moment, you just stared at him, not quite sure what he wanted. But when he flexed again and bounced his leg, your embarrassment melted away. You brought your hands down to his chest to keep yourself steady and rocked on his thigh, a relieved sigh flying out of your mouth.

The corners of Roy’s lips tugged upwards, but his eyes remained on his book as you squirmed on him, your quiet moans filling the otherwise silent room. Your fingers trailed through his dark chest hair, anchoring you through the pleasure.

After a particularly loud whine, his eyes flickered to you. “Aren’t we a needy little thing,” he cooed with a chuckle. He nodded down at your sleep shorts. “Bet it’d feel better if you took those off.”

You were suddenly bashful again. “Roy…”

He raised his eyebrows. “Take ‘em off.”

Roy didn’t always get bossy like this- but fuck, you loved it when he did. Quickly, you lifted yourself off him and tugged down your sleep shorts and panties, bringing yourself back down in record time.

“O-oh,” you sighed, feeling the way he flexed again beneath you.

He gave your inner thigh a little pinch; you involuntarily bucked against his skin. “As you were, gorgeous,” he teased, returning to his book.

All hesitation disappeared as your bare cunt dragged against his burning skin. Your hands again found his chest, bracing yourself for the hungry pace you set. Your toes curled at the way his thick leg hair rubbed against you, adding an extra sensation. His thumb lazily traced circles on your hip, juxtaposed with the way you sloppily humped his leg.

His chuckle was dark, a little demeaning in the best way. “Look at you,” he purred, his gaze leaving his book. “Greedy thing, making this big mess on me.”

You looked down; indeed, as you rocked back and forth, you could see the glistening trail you left on his skin. Your hooded eyes found his again, an embarrassed smile on your lips despite your continued squirming.

“’m sorry,” you breathed with a pout, giving an extra little buck down against him, smearing your arousal on his skin.

Roy placed his book on the nightstand, finally giving you his full attention. “I’m not,” he chuckled, dark eyes on your grinding pussy. “So fucking sweet, seeing you needy for me like this.” The hand that had formerly been holding his book reached out to you, his thumb swiping up some of your slick. “Want some help?”

All you could do was nod as your back arched in anticipation. With his tongue between his teeth, Roy watched your cunt with some mix of fascination and adoration, bringing his thumb to your clit with that expert care you loved to receive. Your body jerked at his touch, your hips stuttering.

“What a pretty view,” he hummed. “Looks so fucking delicious.” He lifted his thumb to his mouth, chuckling at your pathetic whimper. “Tastes delicious too.”

“Roy,” you whined, giving him your pleading eyes, the ones usually reserved for asking nicely for his cock. Now, you were begging just for his thumb.

At least he was nice enough to give you want you wanted. “Needy, needy thing,” he teased, tutting at the way your body twitched when his thumb pressed harshly to your pulsating clit. The hand on your hip snaked under your shirt to begin groping your breast. “Have I been spoiling you too much? Hmm? Turned you into a bit of a brat?”

You didn’t bother answering; your release was too close. Roy seemed to understand, because his thumb rubbed merciless circles on your clit as he kneaded at your nipple with his other hand, biting his lip as he watched you.

“Is my pretty girl going to come on my leg?” he teased, giving your nipple a harsh pinch. “Are you that desperate for me, darling?”

“Fuck, Roy,” you panted, nails digging into his skin as you writhed on his leg,

Your legs began to quake as your pussy clenched around nothing, your arousal dripping down the sides of Roy’s thigh and onto his sheets. With a wicked smile, he bounced his leg beneath you, watching your eyes roll back as your orgasm overtook you.

“My gorgeous girl,” he groaned in a syrupy voice. “Make a mess on me, baby.”

So you did. You sloppily bucked against his soaked leg, crying out his name over and over in a desperate chant. Your own thighs were burning, but you kept rocking your hips back and forth, determined to leave Roy a sodden mess; it was his fault, after all, for having the most mouthwatering thighs in the world. As the last shockwaves of pleasure pulsated through your body, you dropped your weight onto Roy’s drenched leg, the harsh contact against your sore cunt sending one last shudder down your spine.

Roy chuckled and pulled you down against his wooly chest with a couple loving shushes. “Did that feel good?” he murmured. “Did you enjoy that?” Your weak nod was rewarded with a kiss to the top of your head. “Good.” His tender voice turned into a delicious growl. “You can rest for about five minutes, and then you’re going to help me make an even bigger mess.”

#tally's smutober prompts #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction

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tickly-giggles · 10 months

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Watch Your Back (My Hero Academia)

A/N: This is a sequel to Feather Ticklish, so I highly recommend reading that before this :D Also, this does get kinda angsty at the end, but I promise it's a fun read and there's no warnings aside from the mention of cigarettes :>

Warning: Tickle fic ahead!

Characters: Dabi, Hawks

Shipping: Technically DabiHawks but they're still not together yet

Lee: Hawks

Ler: Dabi

Word Count: 3,093

Summary: It's been a few weeks since Dabi warned Hawks to watch his back, but nothing has come of it. Hawks decides to go about his work without worrying about it too much (spoiler: he worries a lot) and, during a private outing to the hideout late at night, he runs into Dabi.

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

Weeks had gone by like normal with no signs of hostility from Dabi aside from his usual snarky attitude. He didn’t want to admit it, but Hawks was on edge, and only grew more so as time dragged on.

“Watch your back, birdie.”

He shivered at the unpleasant memory. Hawks may have only tickled him, but Dabi was a villain. Did he really expect him to solve this amicably?

"I'd be lucky if all he did was burn me,"

he muttered to himself as he sifted through a cardboard box he had found behind the bar counter of the hideout.

He had joined the League to gather intel, so that was what he was going to do. Or, at least, it's what he tried to do. He couldn't get what Dabi said out of his mind, and the fact that he never made any move or gave any indication of revenge only worried him further.

With a frustrated grunt, he shook the thoughts out of his head and continued to search through the box. There wasn't much worth noting. It was mostly filled with junk, aside from some polaroids. Hawks couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

The League of Villains looked like anything but. One photo depicted Toga and Twice holding hands and dancing together. Another had what looked to be Shigaraki shoving at the camera. Judging by each villain's personalities so far, Hawks figured Toga was the one to take the picture.

The last polaroid showed all of them. The camera must have been set on a timer, because they were all positioned together in a group.

Toga and Twice looked happy as can be, Toga sticking her tongue out and winking with Twice ruffling her hair and giving the camera a thumbs up.

Mr. Compress did his best to look formal with a bow and a tip of his hat, but it was easy to tell he definitely didn't mind the camera.

Spinner was the opposite. He tried to look like he wasn't interested by turning away from the camera, but his overall demeanor was that of childlike excitement.

Shigaraki did not prefer to be on camera, and it was obvious in his reluctant pose. He had one hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket, and the other scratching at his cheek absentmindedly while he stared off to the side.

Then there was Dabi, apathetic as usual. He stared into the camera, thumbs stuffed in his pants pockets, and his face void of emotion. Hawks furrowed his brow, as if trying to decipher what Dabi was thinking at the time of the photo.

"The hell are you doing?"

Hawks squawked and fumbled the polaroids, haphazardly shoving them back into the box. He whipped around to see Dabi standing there, eying him curiously. He leaned to the left to peer at what Hawks was looking at.

"Where'd you find that?" he asked, his tone indiscernible.

"I- uh- I- it.."

Hawks swallowed and collected his thoughts,

"It was behind the bar. I was just curious."

A moment of awkward tension passed before he handed the box to Dabi,

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."

"Yes you did,"

Dabi smirked as he took the box from him,

"You wouldn't have gone through it otherwise."

“Ah,”

Hawks rubbed the back of his head with a nervous chuckle,

“Ya got me. Um, what’re you doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I could ask you the same question, birdie.”

Dabi set the box on the counter and stared intensely into the hero’s eyes. Hawks stared back, not daring to blink.

“Couldn’t sleep, I guess,” he breathed.

“So, naturally, your first thought was to come here,”

The hot headed villain took a step toward Hawks,

"Why dont'cha tell me why you're really here?"

The number two hero didn’t back down. If there was anything he learned from being a pro for so long, it was to never show fear. He swallowed the lump in his throat and slowed his heart rate as he tried to think of an answer.

When he couldn’t think of any substantial excuse, he simply shrugged and laughed airily,

“I was curious about everyone’s lives. We hang out a lot, but it’s mostly for meetings and all. I wanna get to know everyone a little better.”

“And what better way to do that than snooping through our stuff~?”

Hawks’ relaxed smile faltered at Dabi’s tone. He watched him as he got ever closer, practically pinning him up against the bar. The air in the room felt quite warm all of a sudden, and there was a tightness in Hawks’ chest that he couldn’t relieve. He wanted to avert his gaze, but he knew doing that would practically be admitting defeat. Instead, he continued to stare into Dabi’s harsh, ice blue eyes.

“Well?” Dabi breathed,

“Are you gonna be honest with me, or am I gonna have to- GAHAH!”

The pro hero watched Dabi clutch his midriff and stumble backward. He didn’t really mean to squeeze his side, it was just the first thing that came to mind! He was trapped, he had no other choice. It was a survival instinct.

Suddenly, Dabi's intense glare pierced through Hawks, and he quickly realized that he was probably better off dead.

Hawks’ fight or flight response kicked in. Being as quick as he was, he was relying on his skills to get out of the hideout faster than Dabi could blink. Sadly, that didn’t end up being the case. Dabi tackled him as soon as he made to run, and the hero grunted as he fell face first into the floor. The villain grinned and sat on Hawks’ lower back. After a small struggle, he was able to pin his wings underneath his feet, effectively rendering him immobile.

“Guh! L-Lemme up!” Hawks growled, squirming fruitlessly.

“I warned you, feather brain. I can’t believe you had the balls to do that again,”

Dabi chuckled coldly,

“I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so pissed off.”

Hawks desperately tried to flap his wings, but to no avail. He foolishly tried turning his head around to at least see Dabi, but was met with nothing but pain in his neck.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

He snapped at the villain,

“Kill me?”

“I told you to watch your back, didn’t I? Not doing such a good job at that right now,”

Dabi’s tone was pondering as he scanned the hero beneath him,

“I wonder…”

Silence filled the room, and the tightness in Hawks’ chest returned. What was Dabi going to do to him? Fully expecting the worst, he clenched his fists and readied his body for whatever amount of pain he was about to endure.

And then…

“GAAHAHAHAHAHA WHATTHEFUHUHUCK!”

Dabi cackled at the reaction. He skittered and scribbled his fingers along Hawks’ back, greedily drinking in the desperation of his victim’s thrashing.

“What’sa matter, birdie? Your back a little sensitive~?”

“WHAHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!”

“What’s it look like, you moron?"

Hawks wriggled and squirmed helplessly, the tickles feeling even more intense because he couldn’t arch or turn his back away from them. He was completely trapped, entirely at the mercy of a member of the League of Villains. Even his wings were unable to flap properly due to Dabi putting most of his weight on them, not to mention the odd angle he was at. Being so vulnerable only increased Hawks’ sensitivity, and his face erupted in red.

“OKAHAHA- HAHAHAHA!! OKAY YOHOHOU GOT YOUR REHEHEHEVENGE! Y-YOHOHOU CAN STOP NOHOHOHOW! GAHAHAHA!!”

Dabi smirked at the mess of a hero beneath him. His thumbs and forefingers nipped at his shoulder blades with intense accuracy while the rest of his fingers scribbled along the sides of them,

“I’m just gettin’ started. You tortured me, so I’m gonna get you back twice as bad. You shouldn’t have messed with me, Hawks.”

“STAHAHAHAHAP! I-IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!”

Dabi jolted and he grumbled as he dug into the hero’s back with even more force, relishing the delightful shriek he ripped out of him,

“Just shut up and take it, bird brain.”

Hawks slammed his fist against the floor in ticklish frustration. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was tickled. He didn’t get much attention, if any, when he was a kid. The pro heroes dedicated their lives to work and keeping the public safe; there was rarely time to kick back and relax with each other.

He remembered poking at Endeavor once or twice, but he never showed any desire to get him back. Jeanist tended to lean on the serious side, but he had a playful bone in his body. If Hawks tried to mess with him, there was a chance he would fight back. Mirko was probably the only pro he could mess with and expect revenge from, but he never had the chance to try.

It tickled so bad. The way Dabi’s fingers vibrated against every inch of Hawks’ back, especially around his shoulder blades where he elicited the most extreme reactions, was torture. His touch was so precise, it was like he knew just what to do to drive him crazy. There was no chance to get used to any one feeling either, considering the villain would switch up his tactics every few seconds. Whether it be the amount of pressure he used, the way he moved his fingers, or the spot he tickled, every new moment provided a fresh combination to drive Hawks completely insane.

And yet, despite the fact that the number two hero had tears of mirth streaming down his bright red face, and his throat felt slightly sore from his screaming laughter, he would be lying if he said this wasn’t the least bit fun. To completely give up mercy and laugh like there was nothing to worry about was an experience Hawks never realized he needed.

“I can’t believe your back is this sensitive,”

Dabi chuckled after a while,

“Kinda makes me wonder about these pretty little wings of yours~.”

“N-NAHAHAHAHA!! C’MOHOHOHOHON, DAHAHAHAHABI! ENOHOHOHOHOUGH, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Begging already? Pathetic, especially for someone who once called himself a hero.”

The tickling ceased and Hawks gasped for air, falling limp on the floor. The villain smirked down at him. The way his disheveled hair fell over his gorgeous face, the tear streaks that marked his flushed cheeks, the residual giggles that bubbled past his bright smile. Dabi’s chest tightened, and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“A-Ahahare you… dohone?” Hawks asked past breathless giggles.

Dabi’s smirk returned and he chuckled evilly,

“I told you I was just getting started,”

He ran his fingers through the feathery fluff on Hawks’ wings,

“I really am curious about these~.”

Hawks jolted and his wings twitched violently, practically bucking Dabi off of him. The villain laughed in amazement and quickly regained his balance.

“Hohoholy shit! I think I found the jackpot~.”

“D-Dahahabi,” the hero laughed nervously, his wings already tingling,

“Ihihi’ve had enough, plehehease.”

“Can’t take what you dish out, huh? Too bad, I’m not done with you yet. I’ll stop when I’m ready to,”

Dabi positioned his hands on his victim’s wings, causing them to twitch again,

“Until then, you’ll lay there and take it like a good little bird.”

The shriek that escaped from Hawks was ear-piercing. He bucked and thrashed violently as Dabi dug his fingers into his wings. The villain took note of how much more of a reaction he got closer to the hero’s back. Hawks’ hysterical laughter suddenly went silent. He slammed his fists and kicked his feet against the floor, his face was engulfed in cherry red, and he couldn’t tell his tears from his sweat at this point. Words couldn’t describe just how bad it tickled. The way Dabi mercilessly dug into his feathers drove him ballistic. It was torturous, his nerves were electrified, every single movement of the villain’s fingers sent a violent jolt of ticklish agony through Hawks’ entire body.

Why did he love this feeling so much?

Hawks wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed before Dabi finally decided to have mercy. His wings were burning with residual tingles, his feathers were all ruffled from the constant tickling, and he felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. The villain chuckled and stood off of the hero, giving him a moment to recover.

“God, you’re so sensitive. If only I had known this little secret sooner. But, now that I do, I’m never letting you live it down.”

After a few moments of residual giggles, heavy breathing, and slight coughing, Hawks shakily stood up. He used the bar counter as leverage, but stumbled and almost fell back onto the floor. He grunted when he made contact with Dabi, who had moved forward to catch him. With a hum, he absentmindedly nuzzled against the villain’s chest, then finally stood on his own. Dabi decided to ignore the heat that rose to his cheeks from the gesture.

The number two hero chuckled fondly and leaned up against the counter,

“Thahat was uhh… something. You are awful.”

“Not my fault you’re so sensitive~.”

“Can you not say it?”

Dabi frowned,

“Say what?”

“Tickle.”

The villain jolted and looked away bashfully, eyes narrowed in embarrassment,

“I don’t like saying it.”

“Why? Does it fluster you~?”

“No!” Dabi shot a glare at the hero,

“It’s just a stupid word. I hate using it, so I don’t.”

Hawks simply shrugged in response, then caught the box out of the corner of his eye. It was seated on the counter, right where Dabi had left it. He turned around and plucked one of the polaroids out of it, examining it once again. It was the group photo of the League. Dabi approached him and ripped the polaroid from his hands.

“Hey! I was lookin’ at that,” he pouted at the hot head.

“Ya shouldn’t look through other people’s stuff, bird brain,”

Dabi punctuated his sentence with a flick to Hawks’ forehead,

“Besides, what’s in here that’s so important to you?”

The winged hero grumbled and rubbed the area, then gave Dabi a small smile,

“These photos. They’re really cute,”

He chuckled and poked Dabi’s cheek,

“Would it kill ya to smile once in a while, though?”

“Yes,” Dabi replied bluntly, smacking Hawks’ hand away.

Hawks grinned and sighed fondly.

Silence fell over them for a few moments. Dabi reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He took one in between his teeth, and his index finger suddenly burst into a small, blue flame. He carefully lit the cigarette, then offered the pack to Hawks.

He chuckled and shook his head,

“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”

Dabi shrugged and stuffed the pack back into his pocket, extinguished the flame on his finger, then took the cigarette out of his mouth and wistfully breathed the smoke out.

The aura in the room was peaceful, almost like the two of them were genuine friends. A pang of guilt tugged at Hawks' heart, but he ignored it and turned to Dabi, who was staring at the polaroid. His expression was calm.

The hero smiled, feeling melancholy, and decided to break the silence,

“So, why are you up so late?”

Dabi remained so still that Hawks almost thought he didn’t hear him. He opened his mouth to ask again, but was interrupted by the villain letting out a low, mirthless chuckle.

“I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

Silence reigned once more, and he took another puff of his cigarette before he continued,

“Ya ever hear of ‘the butterfly effect’, Hawks?”

The question was so sudden, Hawks gave the villain a puzzled look. After a second, he responded,

“Ah, a butterfly flaps its wings in Rio and causes a tornado in Chicago, right?”

“Correct. Though, I guess in your case, you flap your wings in Japan and cause a ripple in some other part of the world.”

“Where’s this coming from?” the hero asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Dabi huffed sharply, and his grip on the polaroid tightened,

“Ya ever wonder where you’d be had you made one choice a bit differently?”

“I… dont–”

“Heh, never mind. That was a dumb question.”

Hawks frowned, but otherwise didn’t respond to Dabi’s sudden drop of the subject. What did he mean by that? Surely he didn’t regret becoming a villain. Granted, the winged hero had no idea what Dabi’s motivation was aside from the main goal of the League. Hero society was corrupt, he knew that was an idea they were passionate about, but…

"I'm not one for sentimental talks,"

Dabi chuckled suddenly, putting the cigarette up to his lips,

"So don't take much of what I say to heart,”

he inhaled deeply, then crushed the finished cigarette against the counter while exhaling the smoke through his nose. He flicked it across the room, then turned to look at Hawks, who had a look of befuddlement on his face.

“Do you… regret the choices you’ve made?” Hawks asked carefully.

Dabi stared at him for a moment, emotionless, before he grinned wickedly and blew the remainder of the smoke in his face,

“Do you?”

Hawks scrunched his nose and coughed, whisking away the smoke with a disgusted grunt. He then watched Dabi as he made his way out of the room, but was surprised when he turned to address the hero a final time,

“We’re even now, got that? Don’t even think of trying that shit with me again.”

With that, he disappeared deeper into the hideout. Hawks couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips. He shook his head and casually left the building, taking into the air with a swift flap of his wings. He cringed when the air hit his feathers, they still felt a bit sensitive.

As he flew back to his own home, he thought about the conversation he and Dabi just had. He didn’t know what to make of most of it. How did they go from tickling to a serious discussion about fate and paths in their own lives?

…Did he regret his own choices?

Hawks sighed and shook the thoughts out of his head. He was a hero, Dabi was a villain, and there was no way to change that. Even if there were moments where Dabi felt like a genuine human being, even if he felt like he was actually bonding with him, he couldn’t allow that to cloud his judgment. He was on a mission, and he would see it through to the end.

His chest felt tight again.

#mha hawks #mha dabi #dabi #hawks #dabihawks #mha tickle #mha tickle fic #bnha tickle #bnha tickle fic #dabihawks mha #sfw tickling community #dabihawks tickle #ler!dabi #lee!hawks #wing tickles #slight angst

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ykiwrite · 1 year

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behind the scenes

description: georgie was feeling way too comfortable with your girlfriend and emergency was needed

warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive

word count: 1.3k

"And just as we finished shooting that scene, i saw Jenna standing over there looking so terrified 'cause-" said Georgie unable to contain his laugh from escaping.

He was putting all of his weight on one particular person he sat next to.

Jenna.

The apparent height difference, the difference in personalities, both undeniably eye catching people made them look like fairytale couple.

That refers to an untrained eye who knows nothing about who's dating who really.

You watched them while nested in the depths of the couch shared with as well laughing Emma. A fluffy blanket over the two of you did not help with the slumber you were falling into. The feeling of Emma shaking from laughter kept you awake and on standby. Both thankful for it and silently despising it.

Actually, forget it. You couldn't fall asleep even if you wanted to. Georgie and his storytelling was on volume 100, it was too hot in the room, too loud and Jenna was too far away.

Never really the jealous type but today something was in the air. Except you didn't know what exactly.

Perhaps it's because this week's schedule was terrible. Perhaps, you just missed her. Perhaps today's day at work went not so smoothly and you hoped a fraction of comfort for the end of the day could be found on the set with Jenna.

Jenna, who without a second thought saw through all of your complaints over texts demanded you drop by for a few hours.

Turns out everyone was evidently having a blast, you could not relate to that. Maybe it's the part of the acting, the actors high or such. You weren't sure if that was Jenna's attempt of making you feel better. It probably was not, she'd go out of her way for it. It's just how the pieces fell and you ended up on the filming set. If she had the time and space she would do it differently.

Whatever the reason, you picked to withdraw in silence. With not enough energy to speak, drained and drowsy it seemed like the best answer.

Fairly annoyed by the sight of Georgie going out of comfortable bounds with his hand around her shoulder surely reflected on your expression.

"Pssstt..." secretly called out Jenna with no intentions of stopping Georgie's rambling.

Simply looking at her and nodding gave her a green light to continue. In series of polite movements, she removed his hand and leaned over the table. Hoping you will copy her but you didn't made her puzzled. She kept staring, squinting her eyes, trying to figure you out. After a few seconds with no avail that turned into a pleading pout;

"Please?"

With a sigh, you raised yourself with help of hands. Not bothering to fix stoic face of yours, finally eye to eye with her.

"Hey," she whispered with a smile that almost broke you out of character.

"Jenna, i'm not up for jokes."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You good?" she asked genuinely, swiping a strand of messy hair out of your place.

"Oh wow, you actually noticed? I thought Georgie was more interesting." It's a bitter line and tone Jenna is not used to. Especially coming from you.

She looked at you with invisible question marks above her and continued, "Of course i did but i admit he is a bit too talkative today." She gave him one last glance before her eyes scanned you up and down. She was suspicious of something. One thing in particular she was positive of.

"Hold on, you're not..." she wasn't sure whether to push it or let it slide.

"What?"

"You jealous?" She took a dare and let it be heard.

Were you offended? Not really, more like just shocked and caught red handed. Even from her first try. Not moving an inch, trying to keep what's left of your cool, you told her "No? I'm just wondering is he always like that? No wonder everyone ships you two."

A grin on her face portraying the complete opposite of how you're feeling right now started to bother you. It usually meant she read right through and there was no defense left to use.

Promptly leaving her chair only to kneel next to your figure on the couch. Soft hand rested on your leg supporting her. In not the best position to be, compromising even.

"You know so well i could care less about him," tilting her head, "romantically."

"Romantically?" you repeated to chase what's that supposed to mean.

"He's my friend and we're pretty much forced to look at each other everyday on the set. It's not like i can escape him." A rested hand on your leg was sort of a comfort. Comfort that would last if it weren't for her fingers repeating circles around.

Slightly distracted knowing she would get worse if you let her continue.

With no goal nor energy for fighting about her valid answer, you simply nodded. But would you be her girlfriend if you didn't know that's not a sufficient answer? You are not off the hook.

Mainly because she cares and wanted to make up for it. And because there's a rule no one should go to bed mad.

A grand idea was being forged in Jenna's head while you talked about today's events. Not that she didn't listen, she was just calculating the risks and advantages of the idea while listening.

"Hey Georgie?" Jenna asked loudly, turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Remind me, how long is our break?"

"Uhh," pondered Georgie while checking time on his phone, "we still got over 20 minutes free. Why?"

"Nothing, just wondering." All of her attention back to you again.

Quickly, without looking shady, she signaled her head over to point out the direction you two were supposed to go. Like it's your secret language, though you had no idea what's she on about.

"Jenna, i don't-"

Being pulled by the hands never allowed you to finish the sentence. Standing on your feet, you offered her unfazed stare.

"We got 20 minutes to spare. That's plenty." She said with confidence, her legs ready to sprint out of the room. The less time wasted the better.

"For what? I know how your set looks already, i had a tour."

It was possibly the most amusing disappointed state you ever saw Jenna in. In disbelief but loving you no less, her hand linked with yours in rush.

"No, i know. It was wild, that's why i told Hunter-", Georgie got startled by his coworker's hurried steps, "Where are you guys going?"

If he let one more second pass Jenna wouldn't have to lose time. "Just around the building."

"You already showed her the entire place three times already." Now Emma sided with Georgie.

As if betrayed by Emma's question, knowing damn well she was the least oblivious one. "So? I forgot to show her something."

Catching your breath, Jenna let go of you while struggling to open the door. Observing the "Dressing room" sign, you smiled to yourself.

Grabbing you by the shirt while pushing the door open with her back was a view, to say at least. It was enough of an adrenaline rush itself.

"Again? Dressing room?" You chuckled, backing your steps away from her who paced towards you.

Stranded in the corner with a body against the wall and no space to left to move.

"Again. It's not like we have any options, really."

"If i recall, you have 20 minutes ticking. I think it's not long enough for you to do the job."

So she took it, and you as a challenge.

Sitting in front of the makeup mirror, Emma let out a gasp.

Making Jenna's head look up from her phone in a similar panic, she asked "What?"

"Jenna, our makeup artist will kill you. Of course you didn't take her on the fourth tour around the set. Georgie will have nightmares."

Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed what Emma did. Her neck to be precise.

"Let him."

notes: at this point idk what i'm writing except my daily delusions that will never happen

*enjoy though! 🖤

*update: removed percy from the fic 20/1

#jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagines

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vaguely-concerned · 5 months

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Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially)

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol)

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally.

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol.

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least).

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering.

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

#and that's the power of star wars baybey #star wars #master and apprentice #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jin #rael averross #count dooku #star wars meta

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memes-saved-me · 1 year

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Was Billy (accidentally) written as Steve's next love interest - a Meta

This is far from thought out and more thoughts thrown into a post. This is for fun and an over analysis by someone who did 4 years of media studies and has a major bias so don't take it personally

From the moment of Billy's introduction in season 2 he is put in the background of Steve and Nancy's relationship, even from his very first scene where in which he literally pulls Steve's attention from Nancy just after they have a moment in the car. A moment that takes on a completely different tone once you know Nancy is in fact in love with Jonathan not Steve.

It makes sense for Steve to react to Billy's entrance. Half of Billy's plot is Steve but what is more interesting and doesn't really make sense is that the camera then changes focus to Nancy and stays on her even in the next shot with Steve as an after thought in the background. Her reaction isn't the same either. Steve is somewhat curious but Nancy seems more concerned about whoever the car belongs to. Nancy and Billy never have a single conversation. Ever. So why have her reaction to him be so important to his first ever scene?

This could be read as an indication of a threat to their relationship being shown not told just yet. If Billy was a female character who stepped out of the car in the exact same manner it would be fully done to show her (Billy) as a threat to Nancy's relationship with Steve but since Billy is male it is not. Even then I find showing Nancy a very strange choice.

However, it does lead us into the next example of how strange this entire set up is. When Billy finally approaches Steve at the party, Nancy walks away looking hurt? Which does not add up in the slightest. She should be annoyed but instead she walks away to start drinking. Again if Billy was a girl this would be read as her (Billy) trying to not only intimidate Steve but also Nancy. Which this scene implies but makes no sense because Billy doesn't even look at her.

Nancy then starts to drink heavily to mock and get back at Steve for wanting to come to the party in the first place. Something a jealous upset girlfriend would do in any teen movie if another girl had approached her boyfriend, not if a random teenage boy had. This then leads to their big fight when she pretty much dumps him in the bathroom and Steve storms off upset, mirroring this scene from earlier in the episode. Which only reinforces the Nancy being upset not angry aspect.

Billy's entrance to the show leads to their break up. The domino effect of events makes it so. Would Nancy have started drinking if Billy hadn't approached Steve? Maybe, but we don't know anything except what we are shown by the narrative and the narrative has shown us that Billy is the reason she does. A very strange set up considering this is the last interaction they have until season 3 when she tries to shoot him...

The next day we are shown the iconic homoerotic basketball scene and towards the end we see Nancy walk into the room but Steve doesn't notice as he's too distracted by Billy who is at this point is literally waging his tongue at him. They position Steve in-between the two of them just like at the Halloween party as if he needs to make a choice.

Nancy has to call out for him to see her and he then follows her outside to talk. Said talk does not go so well for her and this time it is Steve who dumps her because she doesn't remember what happened the night before. As I mentioned Steve has a choice to make and unlike at Tina's party when he leaves Billy to run after Nancy, he leaves Nancy to go back inside for Billy after being called for by a member of his team. As if he has narratively made his choice as he doesn't chase after Nancy at all for the rest of the season and accepts their relationship is over.

If you take all of this into a count and then imagine Billy as a female character it would be insane to not picture them in a future relationship from a narrative point of view. The common literature tropes and framing of the set up is so clear that if Billy was a girl her and Steve would have been making out half way through the season or even after gym class (I know they are split by gender humour me). With the added somehow unintentional homoerotism of Billy and Steve's dynamic it only adds to the fact that some of the choices made for their relationship/rivalry build up is so strange.

Please add anything I've missed or forgotten because this drives me insane from a writing and media analysis point of view.

#harringrove #meta #analysis

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ageless-aislynn · 2 months

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Title: “15 Minutes” (9/?) Author: @ageless-aislynn Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You're in peril but don't be afraid, help is near. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating: T (PG13) Length: 2,568 (this chapter, 22,261 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Trigger warning: claustrophobia Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N: Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you’ll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we’ll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 10 is in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞 The tags have been updated for hurt/comfort starting with this chapter. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger @mysardencut @laurenstacy610 @sporadicbelievernightmare @ultrablackwidower @bxmxtx @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Trigger warning again: claustrophobia If you need to avoid the actual scene, skip the entire first section but there will be a lot of mentions of it again through the rest of the chapter, just so you're aware. I don't want to cause any distress to anyone so if you'd like a recap of what happens in this chapter, feel free to contact me here and I'm happy to oblige so you can stay in-the-know without reading something that could trigger a bad reaction. Stay safe, my friends! 🤗

You tried to gasp in a breath but there was a weight pinning you down. Smoke burned your lungs and your eyes. Your left arm couldn't move but you were able to bring your right hand up to wipe your face, trying to clear your vision. The only light in the rubble came from a shower of sparks a few feet away, emitting from a panel half-ripped from the wall. There was very little to orientate yourself by.

"Hello?" you tried to call but you couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell. The muffled ring in your ears told you that at least one of your eardrums had ruptured.

Evaluate, you thought in the tone you used when triaging patients, shoving down a wave of panic. You tried to squeeze out from under whatever was pressed across your back. No good, too much weight.

There wasn't a tremendous amount of pain but you worried at the numbness from your waist down, behind whatever was restraining you.

Evaluate.

You tested moving your legs, your feet, your toes. It felt strange but yes, you had movement.

Spinal cord potentially compromised but not severed, you diagnosed as clinically as possible.

Something overhead gave an alarming groan.

Alert help. Report your position.

"Hello? I'm by the crane operator booth. Can anyone hear me?"

You couldn't get the volume you wanted and you automatically tried to inhale deeper. You couldn't and had to fight another wave of panic. The animal part of your brain wanted to claw the twisted metal of the deck, trying to squirm free, but when you twitched, something above you groaned again.

You had no way to know how perilous the collapsed structure was. A wrong move could bring it all down.

A fresh wave of smoke irritated your nose and you coughed weakly. From far away, you heard the muffled sound of a woman saying your rank and last name.

"Here," you choked out. "I'm here."

A blue light shimmered a few feet away, the lower half of a blue-tinted woman, her upper body phased through the rubble. Then she shrank until she fit the space, adjusting like a camera lens. A hologram.

She repeated your rank and last name. "We have your location," she said, your damaged hearing distorting her voice. "Sit tight, a rescue crew is on their way."

You tried to respond but the smoke triggered more coughing, so you nodded.

"I'll stay with you for as long as the holo-emiter holds," she said, gesturing towards the ruined wall panel that continued to spark.

"Thank you," you managed to say. "Casualties?"

She glanced up and away as if receiving new information. "Reports coming in of injuries but no fatalities. Your alert gave enough time for almost everyone to get clear."

"Good." You made yourself slow your breathing down, taking shallow breaths since you couldn't take deeper ones. For a moment, your head swam and it felt like the floor tipped. Your fingers scratched for a hold on the crumpled metal.

The sound of your rank and name cut through the terror. "You're all right," the woman assured you. "You're not falling. Try to stay still. Silver Team will be back on site in a few more minutes. John will be here soon."

It gave you something to focus on other than bring trapped. The way she knew that the mention of John would comfort you, that she didn't call him Master Chief like most people did, even the mannerism of how she'd looked away, like someone was speaking in her ear...

"Your name wouldn't be Ms. Classified, would it?" you asked haltingly and tried to smile.

"That's... not inaccurate," she said and maybe it was your blurry vision but you could've sworn she gave you a fond smile, like she knew you. "I'm not supposed to tell my name."

You tried to say it was all right but couldn't draw enough breath.

"Ah, screw it," she said. "What are they going to do, fire me? My name is Cortana."

You must've blacked out because the next thing you knew, she was kneeling next to you, her small holographic hand resting atop your outstretched arm as she repeated your rank and name.

If you could get a breath, you needed a good, solid breath. Your chest instinctively fought to expand but couldn't beneath the pressure bearing down on your back. Something above you slid and the pressure abruptly worsened. You clawed, you fought, you struggled to breathe. To live.

"John, get here now! The support beam is failing!"

"Not his fault," you tried to say. "Tell him. Not his--"

Metal screamed and everything went dark.

You woke, grasping at nothing. You still couldn't get a deep breath but this time you were on your back and it felt like someone had laced a corset brutally tight around you.

"Easy there. You're all right," said a deep voice.

Your vision swam and then Spartan Vannak-134 appeared out from the dim lighting. You were still clawing at the air, trying to sit up, and he caught your hand a little awkwardly in his much larger ones.

"Where?" you gasped.

"You're back on Reach, in medical."

Once he said it, details emerged like a black and white picture filling in with color: the beeps of the monitors, the distinctive antiseptic smell. Your hearing was still deadened but not as much as before, meaning they had already begun healing therapies on your eardrums.

Anything you might've wanted to say dissolved like sugar on your tongue before the words could be spoken. Your head seemed too full. I'm drugged, you thought and that was the last thing you knew for a while.

Voices drew you from the murky depths and you tried to open your eyes but couldn't.

"Hold her hand," Vannak said in a quiet rumble. "She likes that."

A new hand gently folded around yours and your fingers instinctively gripped hold.

You woke, feeling the phantom press of metal bearing down on you, forcing the air from your lungs. You tried to sit up, your limbs flailed, uncoordinated and leaden. A second hand closed around yours and a feminine voice began to softly sing, a lullaby in a language you didn't recognize.

The room was blurry but you caught a glimpse of red hair -- Spartan Riz-028. You went under once more, dreaming of music that soothed your fears.

Later, there was a new voice to lure you up from the sticky darkness.

"Poor little thing. She looks so small."

"She'll heal. Hold her hand, it helps."

At some point, you jolted awake to find your hand cradled carefully within Kai's.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straighter in the chair next to the bed. "You need anything?"

Your head felt less stuffed with cotton than before but now that cotton seemed to have been transferred to your mouth. "Water?" you croaked.

She jumped up and returned shortly, carrying a cup with a straw in it. You intended to sit up but a searing pain in your ribs immediately convinced you that was a bad idea and you let her help you by holding the straw to your lips.

"Slowly," she advised.

Once you'd taken a couple of sips, you mumbled your thanks then promptly passed out.

You thought you'd closed your eyes for a brief moment but when they fluttered open, it wasn't Kai sitting in the chair, holding your hand.

As soon as John knew you were awake, he was on his feet, carefully brushing the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of your cheek.

You mouthed his name.

"Rest," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you truly felt as if you were. Your mind let go.

"And how's our favorite mech, the Hero of the Pit?"

"That's not a very heroic name," you confessed, smiling as Maria and then Jamie entered medical.

You were sitting on the side of the bed in generic gray scrubs, waiting for Dr. Savannah to give you final instructions before your release. It had been two days since the explosion. Your hearing had, thankfully, returned to normal. The rest of you... not so much but you were on the mend.

They both gave you careful hugs.

"You look a lot less like you were squashed by a building," Jamie said sincerely and Maria punched his arm. "Hey, that was a compliment!"

"Don't make me laugh," you begged, holding your left side. They'd fused your broken ribs back together but the tissue damage would take longer to resolve. Still, aches, pains, limited motion and all, you knew you were very lucky.

"I hope they're giving you a nice vacation, at least," Maria went on.

"I should be ready for light duty in a week."

"Technically, I said we'd evaluate you for light duty in a week," Dr. Savannah corrected as she entered. "Afraid your friends will have to catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes and, as they left, you started to stand. The doctor quickly said, "No, you don't. I don't want you walking on that leg."

"It's not broken," you argued.

"Not anymore," she countered. "Stay put. I got you a ride."

"I don't need to be wheeled back to the barracks." You tried to keep your tone confident but the truth was even that little bit of exertion had left you feeling twinges all along your left leg. Your left shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

"Well, good thing you're wrong on both counts," she said, winking. "And here he is now."

John came through the door, dressed in his undersuit as if either about to head to the Brokkr stations to have his Mjolnir mounted up or returning from having it removed. You didn't even realize you'd moved to rise again until Dr. Savannah put a practiced hand on your good shoulder to keep you down.

"I'll be sending PT to you twice a day, starting tomorrow," she said. "They'll help you to get your strength and mobility back. Around that, rest. Catch up on your reading, watch some thoroughly trashy movies, and keep your feet up. Not too far up, though. Nothing too strenuous. Make him do all of the work."

That got you to look at her and she waggled her eyebrows.

John cleared his throat slightly, a faint but definite flush creeping up from his collar. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, see you back in a few days, sooner if anything else develops. You know what to watch for."

It wasn't until she stepped back and John approached that it clicked.

"You're going to carry me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated in a murmur that shivered straight down your spine.

Since your left side had taken the brunt of the damage, he put your right to his chest and cautiously picked you up in a bridal carry. Despite the care, being moved set a thousand things to hurting and your breath hitched as he straightened.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone tighter than you would've liked. You thought, I hope nobody sees me being toted around like this, but, as soon as you left medical, you realized that no one was actually looking at you.

I think if Master Chief offered to drop me and pick up any marine, ODST or officer in this hall, they'd be hopping into his arms before I even hit the floor!

At the first turn he made, you realized the rest of it. "This isn't the way to the barracks."

"Nope," he said and you knew him well enough now to see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

You didn't have to wait for further clues, there was only one place, then, that he could be taking you. "How many strings did you have to pull for this?"

"Not as many as you might think," he demurred. "Your actions saved lives."

And they could've blamed you for failing to make sure a bomb hadn't been sent to the Pit in the first place. The curly tailed Warthog had been your responsibility, after all. You'd been curtly informed of all that when they'd debriefed you the first day you'd had your eyes open for more than 15 minutes.

You doubted they'd told that to John, though.

When you reached his room, he maneuvered so to get his thumb on the panel without jostling you too much. The lights came on as he took you through the doorway and then he paused.

"Kai," he rumbled, shaking his head. "She said studies show people heal better with color. I should've known she'd overdo it. Say the word and I'll have her in here clearing this out."

"It's your room," you said, "but personally, I love it."

The duvet on the bed and the pillows on the couch were now a rainbow of jewel tones. A tapestry with a field of sunflowers dominated the wall at the foot of the bed and you could've sworn there was a dusting of diamond glitter shimmering on every wall, sending tiny holographic rainbows through the air in all directions. But the main thing that caught your attention was overhead.

"She put up stars," you said, brightening.

"Ah, that one was actually me," he confessed. "You seemed to really like those in her room so I thought..."

You stretched up in his arms, inhaling a little sharply at the stab of pain in your left side, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love them, John. Thank you."

A short time later, you found yourself lying on the bed in the darkened room, looking up at those stars. John had profusely apologized for not being able to stay after getting you settled in. He'd turned down the bed so you wouldn't have to, had put your padd close at hand on the nightstand to the right along with a bottle of water and a couple of emergency ration packs in case you got hungry before someone bought you a meal. He'd even procured you a set of unthinkably soft civvies to change into, exactly your size and in your favorite color.

You couldn't imagine that a Spartan had ever taken care of a sick or wounded person before, other than in a battlefield triage situation, so he'd probably found a checklist from somewhere to guide him. His earnestness to make sure he'd done everything right sent warmth flooding through you.

Before he left, he'd paused to kiss the top of your head.

"You know," you said, lifting your chin, "my lips aren't broken."

He hesitated. "The last time I did that, an entire base fell on you."

"Only the warehouse part," you said dismissively, "and there was absolutely no correlation, I promise."

He tried to smile at that but his eyes still showed concern.

"I promise," you repeated more seriously and he exhaled as if about to make a tremendous leap. His kiss was so soft and gentle, it was barely more than a whisper against your mouth.

Once he had left, you'd considered taking Dr. Savannah's advice and watching a holo, reading something on your padd, or doing any number of things to pass the time but ultimately, you'd wanted to appreciate his handiwork.

After all, it wasn't just anybody who could say a Spartan had literally hung the stars for them.

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+#master chief x reader #x reader #john-117 x reader #fic: 15 minutes #series: how to date a spartan without even trying #ageless aislynn #aislynn's fics #aislynn's fic

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blanketorghost · 3 months

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Squish~

(reuploaded from og)

HELLO!!

This has been a long time coming but I wanted to do a little silly doodle as a thank-you for all the attention and positive comments on my grown up azuyuu comic :,^)

I think I have mentioned this before, but I have people in both my friend group and family that have struggled with EDs and seeing Azul struggle with the same issues that some of the people closest to me have really endeared me to him and made me really invested in giving him a future in which he is happy and in recovery with people who love and appreciate him for who he is.

When I was making Yuu's personality and lore, I never really had any love interest set for him and was even in between Malleus and Vil at some point, but when I got to Azul's chapter, I (platonically) fell in love with him and not only his personality, but his background and the amount of parallels he had with both my friends and myself. I saw so many traits of people I love in him and he just fit so well with Yuu's established character lore that I just couldn't help myself and completely jump the gun into shipping them.

I wanted to emphasize in the comic just how much mental illness can change someone, especially when it comes to their own self worth and self-image something that I, who was bullied and has had chronic depression for an extremely long time, still struggle with even if my school days are far, far away and I'm now half a decade into treatment.

I also wanted to show just how much Yuu loves and appreciates Azul, and how he not only loves chubby Azul, but still finds him attractive- even more so now that he knows that this is what he looks like naturally and at a healthy weight.

Some scrapped panels were a little bit more overt on showing Yuu's physical attraction to Azul's (lovingly called) dad bod, but I decided after some research that focusing on Azul's body for the message wouldn't be too good. It also showed Yuu saying some more overtly horny dialogue, which I considered that just didn't fit with the message in the end lmao

Either way, I just wanted Yuu to give Azul that reassurance that not only he finds chubby Azul attractive, but downright perfect as-is.

#art stuff #twisted wonderland #fanart #yuu fujisaki #azul ashengrotto #doodles #azuyuu #yuuazu #azul x yuu #yuu x azul #twst azul

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dreamofmetoday · 11 months

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‘THE IDOL’ READING

what were sam levinson's intentions with the idol?

it's definitely something very personal to him. it's his own selfish fantasy. on set or during the writing process, he was likely very difficult, stubborn and particular with everything. he also wants this to be big, he wants to outdo his previous projects and to even almost sabotage his competitors within the industry, so he's made an effort go above and beyond. he had a particular focus on the women in the show, making sure they could give want he wanted to the best of their ability (he wanted them to appear young, dumb, and wild). there's also a kinky element he was particularly fascinated with. it seems it involves little play or ddlg, or it could just be that he wanted to really show off how petite lily rose depp is. there is an emphasis again that he really wanted the project to be his ideas.

what were the weeknd's intention's with the idol?

so for the weeknd it seems he had been interested in making a tv show or movie for a while, he's probably had this somewhat planned for years. for him, this is fulfilling a dream (another achievement he can add to his career). he also feels this is brave of him, he wanted to really challenge himself and make something regardless of how people may criticise it. he wanted to prove to himself he could do something unrestrained and new. you know the sort of vibe of if you want to write a vulnerable poem but you keep watering it down and editing it because you get embarrassed, you don't want people to judge your writing or what it's about - he was pushing himself to do the exact opposite of that. he wanted it to be something people look back on and see it as timeless. however, it seems as it was finally being put into production it leaned away from this vulnerability a bit and became something different. he is hoping for a lot of social media success, he hopes to see a lot of people talking about it (he wants it to be a success amongst gen z to the extent that it sparks trends).

what does sam levinson think of the idol's outcome (how the show turned out)?

he thinks it's turned out well. he thinks he basically achieved his goal at this point. he hired attractive people, he got his way most of the time and he feels it's going to be successful. he is proud of how different he thinks it is. he feels the show has "everything". however, he sees a lot of problems with it too due to his critical nature. his feelings so far are a bit mixed and will become more settled once he sees the public's reaction.

what does lily rose depp think of the idol?

she's pretty apprehensive about it, she's worried about the reaction to it and she thinks she signed up for more than she bargained for (or than she initially wanted). she doesn't know if she should regret being in this show or not. she also feels she sacrificed a lot for this show and wishes she wasn't bossed around as easily as she was. she might have been high on set often, or is now too, and it helps her feel more chilled out about it. as for the story itself, she really isn't happy with it and thinks it's too much but she likes that she's the main character for something and likes how she looks aesthetically.

what does jennie think of the idol?

she thinks it's risky, rebellious and will get a lot of people talking. she thinks the show will be trendy and popular. she thinks the show is pretty exploitative. she believes men involved in the show "won" this one. she doesn't know if she necessarily would have joined this project if it weren’t for running the risk of ruining her connections, but she is happy her connections and relationships have remained positive (it was one of those things where you said yes and even if you wanted to contemplate backing away you just couldn't, so there’s no point even dwelling on it). she also believes her image is pretty protected and the show doesn't make her look bad. she thinks overall this was a good opportunity for her.

what does lily rose depp think of sam levinson?

she thinks sam levinson had a fixation on her and expected a lot from her. he bothered her a lot, he was obsessive in a way, constantly talking to her and asking her questions but she thought he was also "sweet" (but it’s also the vibe where a guy is being nice to you because you know he wants to sleep with you). she finds him to be persistent and hardworking but overbearing and smothering. she knew it was important to him for this project to outdo himself and his competitors, so in this sense she sees him as pretty greedy but also ambitious in a clever way. she thinks he is manipulative and guilt trips people to make them more reliant on him.

what does jennie think of sam levinson?

she thinks he's a very fake person, being unable to grasp his real personality has caused her to not really have much of an opinion of him. she wants to be careful around him and they're casually polite with each other. she doesn't know him that well but thinks he has a lot of ideas. she worries he my have a temper.

what should audiences expect from the idol?

pandering to men (both from the show in general and the storyline).

women being mean to each other, pushing each other down and competing with each other (catfighting, pick-me behaviour or women demeaning each other etc.)

a very messy story where the characters experience a lot of highs and lows.

really mean and even abusive behaviour - everyone is always hurting each other and breaking each other's trust.

exploitation of young people (not just sexually but seeing them really hurt and wounded overall).

lots of sex and sexual scenes (especially from women).

the story might also go off the rails a little bit or end in a confusing way - there's this sense of even though we don't know sam levinson's personal fantasies, you somehow watch it and can tell it's his fantasy and that it took precedence over the story itself at times.

scenes with questionable ethics and laws being broken (e.g. drug use).

a trendy aesthetic.

a witty dialogue with some quotable lines (even if used as memes).

#tarot #tarot reading #celebrity tarot #kpop #kpop tarot #jennie #blackpink jennie #lily rose depp #the weeknd #the idol #sam levinson #celebrity tarot reading #long reading

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wibble-wobbegong · 1 year

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Mike vs Selfishness

The sheer number of people who misunderstand Mike as a character, even as fans of his, face one major flaw; they root his actions in self interest. They believe he is selfish. Even with positive connotation, this is wrong.

For some reason, it seems that the world has decided we must have balance between selfishness and selflessness between characters— if Will is selfless, then Mike must be selfish. This is the very trap that the writers set in S4. Their intention was to mislead and misconstrue. Will is shown to be giving up many things over and over and over for Mike, so he’s painted as the selfless hero (which he is). Mike? We mostly see him from others’ perspectives, meaning we only see him take. He isn’t aware of the sacrifices being made for him, but the show is producing the image of him never sacrificing in turn. Your mind will naturally lead you to view him as selfish because of the lack of reciprocity being shown. They want you to go blind to Mike’s sacrifice so the reveal hits that much harder.

But we aren’t blind. Mike is a character so inherently good that even stripping him of any sympathetic connection with the audience cannot hide the love and kindness inside him. The writers are true to their characters, so no amount of hiding will keep Mike’s true nature repressed— you just have to look, and look we have.

If we’re to look at Mike and know he is not what we perceive, how is it that so many people fail to understand that he is as selfless as any other character? Mike is not a boy with a monster hidden under his skin waiting to take what it wants despite how often we see this description of him floating around. This idea is in omnipresent in so many analysis posts or by those who say they’re fans of his imperfect characterization when that isn’t what makes him imperfect.

For example, it seems to be commonplace to believe that Mike is dating El to hide to some degree— not necessarily as a beard, but as an excuse for his behavior; his prioritization if her; his avoidance of Will. Rather than using El as an excuse, it’s much more plausible that Mike legitimately puts El above other people sometimes. When you look at Mike’s story with El it is so very blatant that he wants to do things for her and help her and make her happy. The very beginning of their friendship in S1 had been Mike seeing El and wanting to help. He rescued her and let her stay and took care of her when he first found her— sending her back to Pennhurst was not malicious or uncaring. He genuinely thought it was best for her at the time.

As Mike gets to know her he learns of her tragic past and comes to admire her as a person for her strength and sense of justice. El has lived a life of anger and sadness and abuse and Mike knows this. He sees a good person who has known nothing but suffering and wants to help her live the happiest life she can lead and Mike believes part of her happiness comes from being with him. Of course he’ll do it. He may not love her romantically, but he loves her so strongly in other ways that he’s willing to pretend for her sake. He’s been pretending since the end of S2. She moves to kiss him and he freezes, but they end up at the Snowball together anyway.

He’s giving too much of himself. He takes it too far and abandons intrinsic parts of himself for her happiness— this includes movies, hanging out with friends, music, and more than anything else, Will. Not Will himself but the part of him that belongs to Will. The part that loves him.

Mike’s selflessness reaches the furthest extremes. He’s willing to kill himself for Dustin with zero hesitation. He’s willing to abandon his personhood in hopes El is happy. He’ll shoulder the blame in fights with Will and hide the truth when he realizes Will never meant to hurt him. In fact, he tries to prevent Will from ever realizing he’s angry with him and continues to push him away during the fight at Rink-o-Mania. Mike consistently backs away from any confrontation where he has to address himself and his wants and his feelings when they aren’t there to help others. With Lucas at the beginning of the season, he backs down the second Lucas explains himself. During the rain fight, he’s calm and apologetic until Will brings El into it. Mike will always try to redirect things away from himself and Will is the only person who wont let him.

Normally, selflessness doesn’t take such intense and demanding forms. It doesn’t hurt others. Selflessness is usually shown as positive altruism or as an isolated punishment upon the self. Mike falls into the end of self punishment.

Self punishment always leads to unintentionally hurting others. Usually, se’d see this displayed from the perspective of the punisher. We don’t have Mike’s perspective. The punishments he imposes on himself are not visible to us.

Mike is a good, selfless person. He’s so sacrificial and feels so inferior that he doesn’t value his side of the story and acts as a servant to the happiness of the people around him. He’s rarely confrontational about issues that center around his wants and his feelings. When I say Mike is the prime example of a character who is a victim of themself I mean that he will destroy himself to hand out the pieces to people who he thinks need them.

There is nothing about him that is selfish or holds expectations that can’t be broken down. Mike’s rare selfish acts crumble like worn towers and his sacrifice will never be enough in his eyes. It’s all self imposed, but self imposition does not equate to selfishness. That’s what people miss about his character.

Mike is selfless in the most destructive, dangerous way positive. He has lost any sense of self importance, and that’s pretty clearly reflected in his monologue in the van (which happens to be the only time he really opens up and immediately calls himself stupid for it).

BASICALLY: mike’s not selfish he’s just selfless to the point of destruction and hurts people. hurting people is not inherent to selfishness . bro is big stupid and lives to please lmao

#i hope this makes sense #a little rushed bc i need to study but i desperately need to talk about him #my line of reasoning feels kinda ass #if this doesnt make sense feel free to ask questions bc this topic is HUGE with so many different angles to poke at #mike wheeler #mike analysis

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pochipop · 1 year

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＃OVERWATCH !! ♡ — VIOLET AND SANDALWOOD (MOIRA X READER).

#. synopsis! — the four times you didn't ask moira to stay, and the one time you did .

#. characters! — moira .

#. warnings! — light angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied/referenced sexual activity, slightly suggestive material .

#. word count! — 6.3k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — happy new year, i'm in love with moira so pls have this <3

The first time you ever found yourself alone with Moira was fleeting, —but it’s a moment you’ll never forget. You were a new addition to her research team, still a newbie barely able to navigate the twisting halls of the lab’s building, a rather sudden replacement for a worker you’d heard had gone missing amongst the turmoil of the outside world. It wasn’t unusual given the chaos that waged on endlessly; but it was unnerving to fill their shoes.

Moira wasn't particularly sensitive to that, but she provided you with a sense of comfort, though she likely didn't know it. She was formidable in spite of her slender build, —a woman made of sharp angles with a stare that could turn enemies to ash. She moved with the kind of grace and precision you'd expect from a noble, always with an air of elegance about her that positioned her a cut above the rest. Her staggering height made her a sight to behold, with fiery locks to match her often scorching personality. Either you got along with her, or you found somewhere else to work. . . The laboratory was her castle, and it was in the best interest of everyone else to stay far out of her way.

You were particularly good at that. Matching her strides was an impossible feat, both physically and within a work setting, so you learned how to tiptoe around all of her imaginary boundaries. Though she didn't seem keen on acknowledging it, a part of you really liked to think she took note of it. . . Took note of you, like you were special.

She frightened you, but all the same, she intrigued you, —pulling you deeper into her waters with nowhere to seek refuge but in her arms. Maybe that's the way she wanted it.

Dancing around her proved to be the easy part. It wasn't until you were alone with her that you truly recognized how masterful a force she really was.

Moira often stayed late, even for days at a time, sneaking away to the break room for a few hours rest before others made their way to work. No one else on the team was quite so dedicated, —yourself included. You weren't opposed to working overtime, and you often stayed an hour or so past your typical shift to wrap up notes or finalize projects. But it boiled down to very little in comparison to Moira’s never-ending cycle of work and repetition. That night, overtime would have been an understatement. It was edging on midnight as you scribbled away, comparing a week's worth of well-taken notes, weighing formulated hypotheses against the true results at hand.

The lab had been empty for quite a while, even Moira nowhere to be found. You chalked it up to luck. When she arrived, however, you're not sure you would have ventured to call it unlucky. She stood in the entryway, her lithe frame outlined in the contrasting light from the hall just outside.

"I thought I might find someone else here," she said, —no discontent noticeable in her tone.

It was an observational statement more than anything else, but you couldn't help feeling that you were intruding on time never meant for you to take up.

"Sorry," you apologized, "I'll wrap up quickly."

Keeping yourself together was none too easy a task that night. Moira seemed indifferent to your presence on the surface, but you feared overstaying your welcome. Your heart thundered away in your chest, loud enough to make you think it was trying to escape your body. Loud enough to fear that Moira might hear it from several feet away.

"No need for apologies," she assured you, brushing your concerns away like they were nothing. "It's just not often I find someone else lingering in the lab so late."

You swallowed down another apology as it crept up the back of your throat, scared that repeating yourself would only prove to annoy her. If nothing else, you knew Moira was the type of person you'd much prefer to stay on good terms with; so the prospect of upsetting her was something akin to horrifying.

She continued as she made her way across the room in long strides, shoes tapping against the pristine floor in rhythmic clicks. Even the way she walked was entrancing, as if every step she took was perfectly planned. As much as she intimidated you, Moira captivated you all the same.

“Between you and I, I’d much rather you be here than any of them,” she said unabashedly, busying her hands with a half-filled beaker not far away.

This was likely the closest Moira would ever get to engaging in idle workplace chatter or gossip, though you struggled to call it the latter given her pointed delivery. She spoke like she was plainly uttering another lowly fact of the universe, not throwing subtle shade toward her fellow colleagues (you excluded, apparently.)

You said nothing in reply, but she didn’t seem to mind. Where others might have been uncomfortable with your silence, she simply moved along, plucking another test tube off the desk before her to examine it in her hands. Even the way she held objects was done with such an air of refinement. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around the glass with a surprising amount of care, those long, ever-purple nails jutting past the tips.

A prolonged period of silence followed, your eyes often drifting to the place she stood. It wasn’t the first time you’d ever noted her appearance, but there was something about her tonight that really stole your breath away. With her typical lab coat draped over the back of her chair, she was left in an ill-fitting white button up and a pair of tightly fitted black pants. Shirt loosely tucked in and the two top buttons undone, paired with hair slightly messy and much less styled than you were used to seeing her with, —you couldn’t help but gawk a bit. She was so effortlessly attractive that it made your heart throb.

Moira caught sight of your gaze, but didn’t seem perturbed by it. She made no mention of it, instead asking: “Do you mind if I light a candle?”

“No,” you quickly shook your head in reply, “not at all.”

Even if you did mind, it’s not like you would have said it. Still, she seemed pleased enough by your response and took you at your word.

“I prefer to work under the right ambiance,” she explained. “Scents that stimulate the brain and an atmosphere adequate for concentration.”

There was even something special about the way she lit the wick of the candle that sent shivers across your body.

“Violet and sandalwood,” she pointed.

The little flame seemed to move in time with her, as if even nature had no choice but to subjugate itself to her will.

You didn't say it, of course, but the idea that Moira would care about something as simple as the scents surrounding her came as a surprise. Such a mundane thing crossing the mind of someone so ingenious seemed. . . Jarring, almost.

Still, it was demystifying in its own right. Moira often came across as so robotic that you tended to forget she was even human, and subsequently, it often slipped your mind that she might pay just as much attention to the smaller novelties of life as anyone else. Her grand ideas often outweighed her sense of humanity, but in the moment, it was all too easy to catch a glimpse of her gentler, more everyday nature.

“It’s nice,” you said softly when the wafting scent began to properly fill the room.

For such a small candle, it was particularly potent. Hints of musk from the sandalwood were accented by the lighter scent of floral violet, creating a lovely harmony. It crossed your mind, if only briefly, that it was a nice allegory for you and her. . . Moira, perhaps a bit cruel at times; certainly the deeper of the two. Someone difficult to understand, but all too easy to be intrigued by. And then there was you, —not necessarily passive, but much more adaptable than the former. Softer and likely kinder, but a standout in your own right.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Really, Moira just seemed glad to be in like minded company. All too often she had been subjected to the harsh criticism of others, —criticism of her personality, of her methods, of her appearance, even. But you looked at her like she was something to behold, and not in the monstrous way that she’d become far too accustomed to. She got the sense that you saw her for what she truly was: a woman of science. Nothing more, nothing less.

Working in silence with her was surprisingly pleasant. If she caught sight of the peeks you stole at her in between notes, she didn’t make any mention of it. It really couldn’t be helped though, —especially when she ran those long, slender fingers through her hair, pushing loose strands away from her forehead. God, she was so pretty when she moved like that, when she leaned over her desk and her back arched ever so slightly.

You stayed much later than you ever planned, gaze flickering between the work at hand and her. It was teetering on two in the morning when Moira finally stood herself upright again, announcing that she needed to tend to the live test subjects a few rooms over. She didn’t explicitly invite you to come along, but the implication was certainly there. . . Still, you didn’t have the nerve to follow, nor did you have the guts to ask her to stay with you in the main lab, as if sitting with you in majorative silence for another hour would really prove to be useful in the slightest.

You went home that night with a lot on your mind.

Moira invited you to drink with her a few weeks later, hoping to vent some of her frustrations over glasses of whiskey. The past few days had been none to kind to her, leaving her exhausted and a thread away from snapping. It was clear by the subtle bags under her eyes that sleep had been all but eluding her, and her brows seemed permanently creased that night as you sat across from her, listening to every word that spilled past her lips.

“It’s infuriating,” she practically growled, tipping her head back to swallow some more of the amber liquid down with startling ease. “I couldn’t care less if they like me or not, —but halting my work like this is making me think they’re all more trouble than they’re worth.”

It wasn’t hard to see why she was so upset. Conflicts were common in the lab, especially when it came to Moira’s methods, (which were admittedly unethical on a number of occasions) but nothing had ever gotten this bad. At least, not since you’d been working under her, anyway.

One argument had led to another, and before Moira knew it, she was being pulled aside by a number of the high-ranking personalities, all of which seemed to agree that she was the one in the wrong. And maybe she was, but you still couldn’t respect the underhandedness of your colleagues. In fact, you struggled to even refer to them as such in the aftermath, and your loyalty to Moira made you the target of hapless gossip amongst them rather quickly. For such well-educated individuals, they hadn’t a clue how to whisper, and it was frankly embarrassing beyond words.

“They’re certainly making a show of it all,” you quipped, taking a cautious sip of alcohol just to see what the flavor was like.

“You’ve noticed it too then?” Moira questioned, reaching out to place one of her steady hands on your thigh.

The touch was nothing more than a casual gesture, but it set your heart aflame. She was so painfully unaware of what she did to you, —how she made your pulse stutter, how she invaded your thoughts at the most inopportune times. Her heterochromatic eyes glistened under the pale laboratory lighting, her fine, white coat slipping off her angular shoulders.

“It’d have been more shocking if I hadn’t, honestly,” you answered. “The things I’ve overheard the past two days have been completely ridiculous, and I’m almost convinced they’ve wanted at least one of us to catch wind of it. Either that or they’re so completely incompetent that they probably shouldn’t be working here in the lab to begin with.”

Moira chuckled at your bold reply. It was the first time she’d ever heard you speak your mind in such an unfiltered way, —and she liked it. There was a certain zest to your annoyance, one that she sort of wanted to sink her teeth into just to see how far they’d go; like the fangs of some supernatural creature of the night.

You love it when she laughs like that, but it’s a sound you’re not often privy to. It’s low and leathery, if a little cruel from time to time, and it’s nothing short of music to your ears.

“It’s one thing to disagree with my methods,” she noted. “I’m not naive to the morals of most people, nor do I deny that I don’t tend to stick to the unspoken roles they set for us as people of science. But really, they’re grasping for straws at this point. Questioning what I do in my personal life is a bridge we need not cross.”

Your eyes widened. Of all the things you’d overhead, nothing had been speculation into Moira’s personal affairs. That was a dangerous line to toe, —even for you, and you’d venture to say you were on quite pleasant terms with her.

“I hadn’t realized they’d gone that far,” you noted. “Talk about inappropriate. . .”

Moira liked the way you don’t pry into the details of what they were saying, and swiftly rewarded you with the information she assumed you were itching for. It involved you anyhow, so she reasoned it as killing two birds with one stone.

“A curious rumor, certainly,” she said, “that you and I are secret lovers rendezvousing in the lab when everyone else has gone home.”

You couldn’t help the way your face dropped. Unlike Moira, you often wore your emotions on your sleeve, and if not for her being so out-of-tune with her own, you’ve long feared she just might have picked up on your little crush. She snickered a little at your reaction, taking another drink before she spoke again.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she remarked. “Is the idea of it really so sinister?”

She was joking with you, and you knew that. No matter what way this ended, —you were winning. But you found yourself looking away in shame, as if Moira could see right through you and into the deepest recesses of your mind where you’d agreed to bury your feelings for her the minute they began to sprout. Searching for a way to prolong the inevitable reply you’d have to muster up eventually, you tipped your head back and let the glass of whiskey she’d poured you slide down your throat.

“I was just surprised,” you said finally. “I hadn’t expected anything like that to come up in their conversations.”

Ever one for being cruel in subtle ways, Moira had to admit that she liked the way you squirmed around the question. She leaned in just a little closer, as if tempting you to make a move. You could have sworn you saw her gaze dip down to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I was quite flattered, really,” she admitted. “It was nice to know they thought I could have managed wrapping someone like you around my finger.”

God, if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought she was flirting. Your heart was left a throbbing mess, and in a moment of complete and utter weakness, —you kissed her.

It was quick and Moira had little time to return the gesture before you forced yourself away, realization washing over you like a tidal wave. You wished you’d had a bit more to drink, maybe to drown out the hurt from the rejection that followed, or maybe just to have given you the nerve to pull her back in for more.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I’m really sorry, Moira, I didn’t—”

You cut yourself off, uncertain of what to say. She didn’t seem angry and she hadn’t pushed you away, but you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over your lashes.

She cleared her throat, tugging her lab coat up and pulling herself to her feet.

“There’s some tasks I should be attending to,” she explained, although you didn’t really buy that completely. “I’ve got another bottle, so feel free to drink as much as you like.”

Watching her walk away was hurtful, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to ask her to stay. Even if you had, you’re sure the right words wouldn’t have come out anyway. You downed some more whiskey at Moira’s approval before making your way home, —fighting tears back the entire way.

Nothing much changed after you kissed her. If the taste of whiskey on her sweet lips hadn’t seared itself into your memory, you just might have convinced yourself it was a dream. Moira never broached the topic, and you were scared that doing so yourself might upset whatever semblance of balance you’d been able to find within your tattered relationship with her, —so you simply left it alone. Maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about things, but all you were really certain of at the time was that you didn’t want to lose her. And if that meant you could only love her from a distance and keep yourself at arms length from her as a colleague, then you were going to have to learn to be okay with that.

That was a lot easier said than done, though. . .

She invited herself over to your quaint little apartment about two weeks later, insisting that comparing notes would make for a smoother transition onto the next stage of your largest project yet. You didn’t really understand why that couldn’t be done in the lab after hours, —but you didn’t feel you were in the position to be questioning her after all that had happened.

“Would you like some tea?” You inquired, “—Or coffee, maybe?”

You didn’t have much to offer in terms of snacks, unless she was keen on eating some (likely stale) saltine crackers or a (likely freezer burnt) frozen waffle. It wasn’t often that you had guests over, so your hospitality game was sorely lacking, but Moira didn’t seem to care much one way or the other. She declined your offers for a drink, instead making herself at home on your worn-down sofa, placing a binder full of notes on the cheap coffee table you’d purchased not too long ago.

As she waited for you to join her, she rested her back against the faux leather, crossing one long, slender leg over the other. Even doing something as mundane as sitting, she looked so refined and elegant, —like she was posing for a magazine photoshoot. Maybe you were giving her too much credit, but looking at her in that position made you yearn for her all the more, though you knew very well you couldn’t have her. Not then.

The best you could offer her was to light a candle, —so that’s what you did. It was the only thing you could do to make the impromptu meeting in your home feel less stuffy.

“That scent,” she said not long after, breathing in deeply to catch the rich undertones of the aroma, “is that violet and sandalwood?”

You were almost hoping she wouldn’t notice. Candles weren’t something you ever felt the need to keep a stock of back at home, but after she had lit that one of the same scent all those nights ago, you found yourself seeking out the feelings she evoked back then on that fateful night. Eventually, you invested in a few violet-sandalwood candles, and you’d burned up one within a span of three weeks, so they clearly weren’t going to waste.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” you nodded in confirmation. “If you don’t like it, I can always just blow it out.”

You reached for it preemptively, only for Moira to catch your wrist in her grip. It was a bit rough at first, but she quickly loosened it as if suddenly recognizing her own strength.

“I like it,” she assured you firmly, her eyes practically shouting out you remembered.

Moira wasn’t really one for sentiments, but that touched her. It made her already confusing feelings for you all the more complicated.

Her thumb glided gently over the skin of your wrist, —a silent apology for having grabbed at you so crudely just before. You practically gulped as she moved closer, thinking there was no way you weren’t misunderstanding something. But all your worries were put to bed the moment her lips captured yours, —so fervent and tender. It was so sudden that it left you delirious, but you didn’t dare to pull away. That first kiss with her had haunted you in a number of ways, but you could never forget the comfortable slide of her mouth as it fitted itself against yours.

In that way, Moira wasn’t much unlike everyone else. She had a gentler side that you didn’t often get to see, but when it briefly came out to play you liked to bask in every moment of the glory it waged.

When she finally pulled away, clearing her throat as if doing so would restart the moment entirely, she was back to her usual self. And you, as you so often did, found yourself being swept along by her ocean, letting her pull you out into the middle of her sea.

The sun had long since set by the time she felt you’d gone over enough for the time being. It was late, and you thought so sincerely about asking her to stay for the night, but the fear of pushing things too far and shattering the illusion left you clammed up, offering her little more than a small wave and a tiny smile at the door.

She was back in your apartment the next night, her hands all over you, exploring wherever they pleased. Moira regarded you like some kind of porcelain doll, —as if squeezing too hard might leave you in pieces. That was the gentlest you’d ever known her to be. Her lips trailed like fallen petals across your open skin, so warm and thoughtful. You’d been putty in her hands the moment you stepped inside.

And then you laid alone, Moira sat on the side of your bed. Her bare back bore the remnants of your excitement, and a part of you thought it might be best to apologize for marking her up like that, —but another couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad about it. If nothing else, it was proof that she’d been here, like this, with you. . .

You watched her slide her slim, lengthy arms inside her white dress shirt, fiddling carefully with the buttons before rising to her feet. Under any other circumstances, you’d have been sure to look away, but you couldn’t imagine she’d care much about what all you’d see of her then after what had just happened on your mattress. For the millionth time, reaching out crossed your mind. You considered the possibility that reaching out, pulling her in, kissing all the apprehension away, might ease her enough to let her sleep next to you (if only for the night.)

Yet again though, you couldn’t find the courage to go through with it. Despite what had just happened, you feared that the gap between you and her was gaping all the same, —maybe even more so now than it was before.

Resigning yourself to silence, your gaze traced along every curve of her body, memorizing every detail you could get your sights on. As you watched her fully redress, you thought about the sharpness of her, —in both body and personality. You thought about the softer nooks and crannies she had to offer, about how she’d managed to swallow all your anxieties whole only to regurgitate them right back into the festering pit of your stomach.

Words itched at the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken into the air. If you could just talk to her, everything would be okay. . . Right?

Somehow, you doubted it. Falling for her was one thing, but her loving you in return was another. And being in an actual, committed relationship with her was yet another. But fuck you wanted it, —wanted her late nights and her early mornings, every drowsy afternoon and hyperactive midnight. You wanted to catch all the murmurings just under her breath, wanted to be the only one at the lab who could slink up behind her and press kisses to her temple without getting ousted in a second.

You just wanted her to think you were special.

And she did. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have been there at all. . . But one night cut completely short just wasn’t enough, and you began to worry that nothing would ever be enough when it came to Moira. It’s not as if you could crawl inside her skin and be with her at all times, —but the thought of it was nice somehow. The idea that she wanted it just as badly as you was exhilarating.

Still, you remained silent as she ran her fingers through her hair. You sat up as if to get a better view of her in all that she was, holding your blanket up to your bare chest. Moira glanced back then, knowing all too well what you wanted to say. A part of her even yearned for you to do it, even if she hadn’t figured out how to answer it. She didn’t want to hurt you, —someone younger, smaller, and much less scorned. Roping you in would have consequences, and they were the sort of repercussions she wasn’t sure she’d be willing to let you face for her sake.

Even if you begged for it.

You were in her hands then, like one of her trembling lab rats.

“Moira. . .” you uttered softly, in a voice just barely loud enough for her to hear.

Please don’t go.

She looked your way, but avoided your eyes, as if she was scared of what she’d find there. She seemed nervous.

Please. . . Please don’t go.

In the end, you couldn’t find the strength to continue, and she didn’t press for a finish. Moira left without saying a word, the door closing softly behind her. Her kisses scorched your skin, invisible marks burning all across you in the wake of her absence. Maybe it was foolish to have assumed that she’d stay. . . Maybe it was foolish to have tried. But you suppose it couldn’t be helped.

It’s not that she’s been avoiding you since that night. No, she fills the same space she always has in the lab, —she speaks to you when it’s necessary, and you answer, because before anything else, you and she are scientists, and you know much too well that nothing matters to Moira more than her work. Not even you.

And you don’t expect her to care more about you than that. It’s her life’s work, —the craft she’s dedicated practically her entire existence to. She’s known you for three months tops, and just because you’ve come to feel so strongly for her in such little time doesn’t mean she’s in any way obligated to return it.

You’re a little hurt by the distance that’s plagued your relationship with her in recent days, but your feelings aren’t her responsibility. . . You know that. Still, you’d like the chance to just talk with her. Outside the lab, after hours, in a way that doesn't feel so forced and robotic.

When the rest of your colleagues have filtered themselves out of the office, you approach her. It’s clear you’re nervous by the way your hands shake, and while Moira would have found that increasingly amusing less than a week ago, it stings now in a way she doesn’t quite understand.

“Hey,” you say to her, voice low in spite of being alone with her, “can we talk?”

She knows what it’s about, but seeks to avoid it.

“No need,” she tells you, “your handwriting is neat, —leave your notes on the table and I’ll use them for further reference.”

“Moira—”

“I’m quite busy, actually,” she interjects, “and I work best alone.”

It’s a rare occurrence that Moira feels guilty, but her heart wanes at the sight of your dejected expression. She feels horrible for being the cause of this, but she’s just not ready. It’s only natural that you’d want to talk about it, but for once in her life, Moira’s at a complete and utter standstill. There are no alternatives, no ways of getting around this other than pretending it doesn’t exist, and for right now, that’ll have to do. She can only hope you understand her well enough to manage your expectations accordingly.

“Alright,” you mutter softly.

You’re gone before she has the chance to change her mind, like you’re running from the possibility itself. Holding back tears doesn’t quite go as planned, and you find yourself crying on the walk home. Evening winds nip at your skin, and when you reach your final destination, you decide you’re done trying to hold yourself together. Days of pent-up frustration, sadness, —even anger— burst forth, and you let it all wash over you. There’s almost something cathartic about it.

It’s your fault, really. . . Workplace relationships are a dangerous line to toe to begin with, and your silly little heart just had to go and choose her, didn’t it? The woman so devoted to her career that any relationship she’ll ever have will only prove to be an illicit affair. . . The woman who seems so intimidating, but is capable of caressing you in the way one might tread their fingers along novel pages in evening light. The woman who kissed you so deeply that it spurred your heart to new heights.

She’s horrible. And you’re in love with her.

Moira doesn’t find the sense of peace she’d been hoping for in your absence. The lab feels much too big now, —large enough to swallow her whole. It’s true that when it comes to love, Moira has often been indifferent to the ideal. Humans are curious, and she’s no exception. But you were so good at pressing all of her buttons, good and bad alike. You, with your innocent stare and that pleading look on your face, —the one she’s sure you didn’t even know you were wearing.

You, with the uncanny ability to slip under her skin and make her think about all the what ifs of her late night brooding sessions.

Burying herself in work doesn’t work quite go the way she’d hoped. Nothing stuck, and she avoided your notebook like a plague, worried that even seeing something of yours would throw her even harder off track. It was hours before she caved in, whipping herself around in spite of her better judgment. Edging on midnight, she sat herself down in your seat, —the one perfectly positioned for optimal Moira viewing throughout the workday. Ever the observant woman, she took note of such right away.

If you’d been there, she could only imagine the bashful look you’d take on, eyes flickering about, refusing to meet her own.

Your notes sit neatly on the table, but she disregards them for the moment, one arm covering the edge of the desk before resting her forehead against it. Moira was the type to keep her questionable decisions to a minimum, —but you were testing her patience.

“Grand,” she mumbles to herself, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

With a heavy sigh, her keen eyes catch sight of something barely jutting out of your desk drawer. A candle, —violet and sandalwood— with a thin piece of twine wrapped around the top cover. A little gift tag hangs off of it, your handwriting scrawled along the off-white surface.

Saw yours was burning a little low. —Y/n

She didn’t have to ask nor wonder who it was meant for. Pulling it from the drawer, she twisted the covering off and breathed in deeply, nose barely nudging the wick. The exhale that followed was long, and all too sobering.

It’s late, but Moira has a sneaking suspicion you haven’t gone to bed just yet. Leaving her unfinished work for tomorrow, she places the candle’s lid back on, repositioning the twine and the tag before slipping it back into your desk, —closing the drawer fully this time. She thinks about what to say on the walk to your apartment, but by the time she stands in front of your door, all of the preparation has gone out the window and she resigns herself to the fate of winging it.

As she wraps her knuckles against the door, doing her best to keep it down, you perk up from inside. As expected, you’d yet to turn in for the night and were instead sitting on that worn-down sofa, nursing a pair of puffy eyes with a wet rag and sipping on some poorly brewed tea in between sniffles. The sudden knock left you flinching a bit, but you sat your tea on the coffee table nonetheless and made your way over to answer it.

Stealing a glimpse through the peephole, you knew that neckline like the back of your hand. In a way, you’d been expecting it to be her, but your eyes widened at the sight of her anyway.

“Moira. . .” you utter her name like a prayer when you slide the door open.

“Can I come inside?” She asks, and you all but stumble over yourself to make way for her.

It’s clear you’ve been crying, and she wants to apologize for being the cause of it, but the right way to do so eludes her. Now that she’s here, she’s not sure what to say.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she says instead.

“No, I. . . Wasn’t really able to sleep,” you reply.

“I see.”

Silence falls, and you yearn for her to break it. You consider reaching out to touch her, maybe crumple in her arms like you always seem to, hoping that loving her alone might be enough to bring her walls down all the way.

“You mentioned before that you wanted to talk,” she finally notes, “—I thought I’d stop by to give you the opportunity.”

It feels like everything is coming down on your shoulders again and you hate it. It isn’t fair, —but nothing is ever truly fair with Moira, you suppose. Still, all the emotions you’d been fostering in the hours prior burn like hot coals in your chest, spurring you on just enough to speak freely.

“This distance is killing me,” you say. “I don’t understand it, and I don’t understand you. It feels like you pull me close just to push me further away than the last time, and it’s driving me insane, Moira. I can’t tell what you’re thinking, can’t tell how you feel, and I just wish you’d turn me away and let me heal from this. Or at the very least, —I wish you’d just let me know that you don’t really want me so I can figure out how to cope with that.”

The way she stares at you makes you slightly regret your choice of words, but you make no move to take anything back.

“Who said I didn’t want you?” She questions in reply. “You made that assumption all on your own.”

Well. . . Yeah. You did make that assumption by yourself, didn’t you. . .

In your defense, though, it was a fairly reasonable thing to assume. When one thing leads to another and in the wake of it you’re seemingly pushed to the wayside, there’s only so many conclusions you can draw.

“You do then?” You question. “Want me?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t go anywhere,” she responds evenly.

You sigh in obvious frustration. Moira doesn’t really understand why you’re so worried about this, but makes no move to leave.

“I’m just gonna. . .”

The words die in your throat, but you take in a quick, sharp breath, steeling yourself for whatever is to come after.

“I think I’m in love with you, Moira.”

Her expression doesn’t change much. She’d likely worked that out long before now, but you’re too high off adrenaline to feel embarrassed about it now.

“I don’t feel dissimilarly.”

That wasn’t exactly the love confession you’d been hoping for, but somehow, it felt better. You had to stifle a laugh, though whether at her roundabout speech or your own expense was another question entirely. Looking up into her eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you reached out to tug at her dress shirt.

“Kiss me.”

It wasn’t often that Moira chose to follow the orders of others, but that was a request she could live with. Her hand finds its way to your cheek as she lowers her face to your height, pressing her lips against yours. You grip a little tighter at her clothing, like you’re scared she’ll disappear if you let go. Time seems to suspend itself for the two of you as you stand with her, holding your breath.

When she finally pulls away, you rest your head against her chest. Her hand smoothes over your hair.

“Stay,” you say, finally finding the courage to request it.

She does.

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beastren · 7 days

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∞ Arisen & Pawn Character Introductions

original template by @arisenreborn :D

♛ THE ARISEN:

NAME: Nimh AGE: 23 RACE: Half-elf PRONOUNS: She/her PREFERRED VOCATION: Warfarer FAVORED GIFTS: Gems, things to make food with, particularly (princess) harspuds. FAMILY: Elf father, human mother.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Brave, hard-working, largely unconcerned with things she deems trivial, so it helps her have a good sense of drive/focus, but can also make her some across as uncaring. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Rash, reckless, impulsive, particularly in high-pressure moments, like if Lir gets downed. Easily frustrated. LIKES: Goats, books, small creeks. DISLIKES: The cold. Glyndwr. She doesn't have the best impression of elves in general, but also not the worst. Medusas.

1. What was their life like before becoming Arisen?

She lived on a small farm with her parents until she was about 16, when she decided to start traveling and doing odd jobs around Vermund, which is how she ended up as a sell-sword in Melve when the dragon attacked. Her family lived a decent bit away from any settlement, although they would go into the nearest towns to shop and trade every so often. She didn't have many friends because of this, so she took up reading from a young age, and it was her main hobby, aside from helping on the farm, which she did genuinely love.

2. How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?

She handles it pretty well, at the beginning, after she's gotten her memories back. The point where she didn't have them was quite rough though, and of course it gets rough later on when more things start feeling at stake. In the AU where she brings about the Unmoored World it's a bit horrifying, it's the absolute worst thing she could've ever imagined and the only things that get her through are the urge to set thing's right and Lir's determination.

3. What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?

Just fine! Not good or bad, and both before and after becoming an arisen she was inclined to see them as Just People, albeit with a bit more nuance later on.

4. What's their relationship like with their main Pawn?

Complicated and simple at the same time. Due to her love of books as a child, particularly tales of knights and princes, Lir was born from an idealized image of those figures. While he was made for her to fall in love with and be a crutch/wish fulfillment in a way, she also always struggled with attachment and attraction to men. It's not that she wasn't, but it happened very rarely. So between that, and also how convoluted, intense and unique the bond between arisen and main pawn can be, she spends a lot of time figuring out what might be projection or miss-attributed feelings. She does come to very much genuinely love him for him though, throughout their journey. More on this in Lir's paragraph on his feelings for Nimh and how he's changed.

5. Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?

No interest in it at all smh.... She's definitely just handing the responsibility off to Sven lol. She was happy in her late teens/early 20's to be away from home and the farm, but as she goes through her journey as Arisen she finds herself longing for it again more than anything. So she really hopes Sven would also be willing to fund her getting a little farm of her own somewhere.... Maybe she could renovate those couple destroyed buildings overrun by saurians by the fields of Vernworth.... As she'd also hate to be too far from people again.

6. Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?

Wilhelmina is her love interest, aside from Lir.... Wilhelmina kissing her to save her from the guards was her bi awakening lol. As for close friends, she gets along well with Menella and Brant. She likes to visit Waldhar too, as he becomes a great supply of books and is someone she can talk about them to. She likes hanging out with Ulrika and Fyoran when she visits Harve as well. Beren as well, and although she doesn't spend much time with him, he's one of the only people she truly feels she won't be judged for being quiet around.

7. What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it?

She hates being limited (read: not being able to reach areas), so always being able to pull out a staff and levitate, or to pull out a magick bow to shoot enemies out of the sky or hit multiple targets is something she quickly finds she can't go back from once she has it. Though she usually equips all 4 of her skill slots with skills from one vocation anyway, mainly mystic spearhand and occasionally thief.

8. Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?

Reading!! But also she at least does very much enjoy camping and making good food for everyone, especially finding ways to go above and beyond the default slab of meat. Maybe THIS is her secret to getting Lir to be so strong.... She also likes petting and playing with farm animals. She will often wander out into the fields outside of Vernworth to do this....

♟︎ THE PAWN:

NAME: Lir AGE: 24 RACE: Beastren PRONOUNS: He/him PREFERRED VOCATION: Warrior FAVORED GIFTS: Berries, delicately but pleasantly fragranced soaps. Handmade things and kind gestures in general. INCLINATION: Kindhearted

POSITIVE TRAITS: Kind, strong, loyal and sweet. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-sacrificing, can be a bit clueless. Clumsy around deep water. LIKES: Shallow water and baths, hot springs.... He enjoys traveling and seeing interesting sights but there's nothing better than a warm comfortable bed. DISLIKES: Deep water and the brine.... Dragonsplague....

1. What was their life like prior to being summoned by their Arisen?

Nothing much to note here! Just a foggy consciousness in the rift.... Nimh is his first and only arisen!

2. What is their opinion on the Arisen? How do they view their relationship?

He looks up to her a lot, before anything else. At first he's quite compelled by Nimh's will and her projection of it, as his arisen, onto him, and sort of loves her blindly for a while. But even at the start, part of his awe and wonder towards her is certainly genuine. More on this in the "how have they changed" section below.

3. Is there anything about the Arisen they find troublesome? Be it a small quirk or bad habit? (Or are they obviously flawless?)

He holds her in too high of a regard to think of any of her traits as too much of a flaw, but if he had to say some things, it'd be her recklessness when worrying over him, but also her difficulty at times with communication. Although they work together very well in battle, and there is a certain amount Lir can kind of just Sense off of her, there was a period in the middle of their journey (about the time they reached Battahl) where the two grew rather distant. Largely because Nimh was having difficulties sorting through her feelings for both Lir and Wilhelmina, and also just struggling as enemies got harsher in Battahl. This lead her to neglecting him a bit and just not talking to him about anything she was going through, which Lir would've absolutely preferred and believes would've saved them a lot of trouble. They do eventually have a breaking point where they work things out and grow closer than ever before.

4. What is their specialization and is there any story behind how they cultivated that skill set?

Chirurgeon!! He was a Logistician at first, but Nimh wold get frustrated at him crafting salubrious draught all the time before she could wait for fruit to ripen and dry to make roborant.... She decided to channel his affinity for curatives and his kindhearted nature into a specialization where he could look out for their party more directly.

5. Do they have any thoughts on the politics of the world and their place in it as a Pawn - or how Pawns are treated?

Lir can be very sensitive to it, feeling lots of grief at the ways pawns get mistreated in Battahl. It's extra odd for him being a beastren pawn as well.... But part of him does understand why they feel that way considering dragonsplauge, but it hurts nonetheless. He wants to be hopeful since Nadinia seems open-minded, but he wonders how much of what Phaesus does she truly knows about.

6. Does their journey with the Arisen change them in any significant way and how?

During the rough patch between Nimh and Lir, he starts to gain his own will bit by bit. At first this and the general circumstances do draw them apart, but Lir takes the time to ponder and sort out his own genuine, developing feelings. It's hard to sort out and get rid of Nimh's will completely, so things continue to be complicated, but Nimh is very wary of this and that isn't lost on Lir. He doesn't ever bring his feelings up directly for quite a long time because of this, although he does keep up his sweet manner of speech full of admiration as it is kind of second nature by now, albeit with a bit more Meaning. To keep the rest of this short, in one AU Lir, Nimh and Wilhelmina all end up happily together, retired at their farm with Sven as sovran. In another, they decide to bitter-sweetly part ways after everything so Lir can travel and become truly his own self. And there's also the unmoored world AU ofc.

7. Is there a reason they chose their preferred vocation?

In game he comments on this a lot lol, he loves being a warrior. Sometimes he even asks to be a warrior WHILE he's a warrior. Initially he was a fighter, influenced by Nimh's vision of a princely knight. But he felt a little stagnant after reaching max rank so they had him try out warrior and he just instantly thrived, he felt a lot more helpful/capable/powerful too, so it just stuck!!

8. Do they have any hobbies or preferred past-times?

Hmmm, that's hard.... He's rather go with the flow so he can be happy chilling and doing whatever, like watching the clouds or the stars.... But I could see him having a journal/scrapbook or something!! I'm sure he gets into a lot of stuff in the AU where he sets out on his own but i'd have to ponder it more.... Kind of related, but he would help re-braid Nimh's hair often and got quite good at it, on top of it being quite relaxing to him.... Hairstylist....

#clyde.txt #dragon's dogma 2 #dd2 #dd2 spoilers #sorry some of these answers are so brief and like meta and then some are so SO long and lore related....#nimh #lir

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