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#vague spoilers but ill still tag it

tealgoat · 17 days

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what if Loop was a small insect. An ant. perhaps.

If they were just 1 inch smaller

#phone doodle #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #vague spoilers but ill still tag it #my art #in stars and time fanart #isat fanart #isat loop

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rubbertig · 2 months

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oh to be falin and then get ur bad eyes fixed by plot

#im vague but ill still tag for #dungeone meshi spoilers #meshi bloggin

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spadilled · 2 months

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aventurine's biggest and most obvious love language is absolutely gift giving. like... yeah he hands out money left right and center on a daily basis but if he buys you a genuinely Thoughtful gift or even if he commissions something personal for you then the chances are that he's not been able to get you out of his head. he's sentimental to a fault, going as far as to keep hold of things from his past that leave nothing but a painful reminder of his past when he sees or touches them. he keeps hold of the tiniest things he collects and absolutely is the kind to buy you something because it reminded him of you. his material nature stems from having had precious little when he was growing up.

in the same vein, i think spending his precious little quality personal time with someone is another way you just know that he adores someone. time is money. money is his lifeline. if he's spending his time with you then he's trying to tell you something he doesn't know the words for.

#ooc.#(𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮.) a golden cage is still just a cage.#i just think that he's so neat #2.1 spoilers //#idk it's vague but ill tag it just in case agfhdghjjhgf #thinking so much about him just picking up shiny things and getting attached to them #so they get added to his collections

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riwrite-a · 1 year

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GHIRAHIM. / VERSE: TEARS OF THE KINGDOM.

deep underground, sealed away miles below the mother goddess statue — the one that came down from the sky in a time long since past — lies a sword wreathed in gloom. it drinks deep of the malice and corruption of the depths, growing stronger with every passing day in a twisted reflection of its holy counterpart.

the spirit within longs for freedom, clawing at his chains, sensing his master's power in the gloom, but is only able to wait, seething, for someone to stumble upon him and break his bonds.

once someone does, be it hero or yiga or monster, he wanders, clinging desperately, angry and bitter, to his loyalty to the demon king, leading monster attacks and trying to find his way back to whatever demise’s hatred has become.

#i know theres actually a bargainer statue under the mother goddess statue (checked the second i thought of this lmao) but um 👍#i will take any reference to skyward sword and hold onto it like a lifeline #anyway have this. im still thinking abt twi's totk verse and im coming up w nothing bc i think. he might have passed on after botw. which um #hlkhsdfg guys just straight up dead then. maybe ill just pull some lame 'hes still sort of around tho' thing #‧ verses. / ghirahim. → 「 tears of the kingdom. 」#<- verse tag i know ill never use even if i write in it <3 #totk spoilers #totk spoilers /#very vague but

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aubyrei · 1 year

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okay so. drdt ep 8 spoilers under the cut, also please check the tags for tws - a lot of the motives are quite sensitive so please beware!!

last night after the ep, my friend (hi @sentinel-kinjo) and i tried to see if we could connect the motives to the characters. ill explain the reasoning for down below. those that don't have a character next to them means i don't have enough info to be able to pinpoint on who that motive belongs to, even using process of elimination

ace - your body is falling apart but you still refuse to eat

there is a lot of evidence to support this. ace has a low bmi, didn't eat the cake in chapter 1 and has been said to like low-calorie foods in QnAs. ive seen some people throw around arturo due to his body image standards, but he doesn't seem to care much about himself specifically appealing to beauty standards, and was also one of the people who ate the cake in chapter 1.

??? - ever since you kissed her, you were afraid your sexuality would ruin your friendships

im not sure about this one at all- but using process of elimination, and the context, it is definitely one of the girls. the ones i didn't put anywhere are min, hu and eden, so it's probably one of them? i honestly don't really have any basis for pin pointing any of them as this one. maybe we should all collectively comb over ch1 to see who the biggest girl kisser is

j and arei's motives are canon, so i won't go over those

xander - you're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings, it doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them

pretty self explanatory, honestly.. we have many examples in the story of xander suffering from survivors guilt. his secret quote also speaks of survivors guilt. i feel like this is the only one that could fit him.

whit - your mother is dead, you always omit that truth

whit speaks highly of his mother, even having dyed his hair because of her. he does omit the truth also when trying to guess what his secret is during ch2, he doesn't speak about his mother being dead at all. his secret quote is also "we tend to idolize the dead" which goes hand in hand with both his motive and the very strong admiration he has for his mom.

charles' is canon, so skip

veronika - you only took on your talent to distract yourself for the incessant need to harm yourself for fun

i won't speak very much on this one, but she fits. the thing she dislikes the most is boredom. she seeks thrill in horror and dark media. it's possible that her talent has helped her heal from these tendencies.

david - you were quite the hopeless child. dying once wasn't enough, so you attempted suicide three times.

ive seen many different guesses on this one, but david is honestly the only one that i feel works completely. his secret is "i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, i wish you'd just die." i hate you is notably repeated three times. this might seem like a reach but i think its also worth noting that when David mentioned that his secret was a family history about depression, nobody corrected him. i feel like if he had lied, or if his secret was something completely disconnected from said depression, the person who had his motive would've stood up and called out his bullshit. but three suicide attempts and depression are not unrelated. i think he was vague about the details of his depression due to his own discomfort talking about these subjects.

rose and nico are canon, so skip

teruko - how could i even select what secret to be your motive? just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. the killing game is your fault.

pretty self explanatory. teruko herself says she has too many secrets and doesn't know what they could possibly use against her. don't think anything but this fits

so the remaining ones are levi, arturo, hu, eden, and min. i can't seem to pinpoint these three anywhere due to lack of info... if you guys have any guesses pls let me know :> i love theorizing!!

#drdt #danganronpa: despair time #danganronpa despair time #drdt spoilers #drdt episode 8 spoilers #tw suicide mention #tw sui attempt #tw eating issues #tw sh mention #these motives are so much heavier than I thought theyd be wtf #david chiem #ace markey #veronika grebenshchikova #xander matthews #teruko tawaki #only tagging those i analyzed in depth #analysis #theory

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fbfh · 2 years

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rocks at your window pt 5 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18 and he and reader are both 18 and in their senior year!!

additioanlly we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot, so as the series goes on he'll start expressing more symptoms of mental illness and bpd, and he gets worse before he gets better. also obviously i'm not a professional and this is for entertainment purposes only, I have done research but PLEASE take this with a grain of salt or several.

!! contains spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 7.8k

genre: slice of life, hurt/comfort, smut

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: actually proof read thanks cici, anti nini/nini being a pick me, one sided angsty gina pining, reader has professional theatre experience, brief vague mention of your parents marriage falling apart, carlos is struggling, a few paragraphs of ricky spiraling about his mom/wondering if she ever loved them, ricky has some flashbacks about that, nini is a self centered bitch, nini writes sad songs about heartbreak in her little mitchie's song book, reader was in matilda annie and hairspray when she was younger (unspecified as to who), one good boy, a GRATUITUOUS amout of titties/nip play, partially clothed sex, cockwarming/cum plugging, subby boarderline puppy boy ricky, ricky's in subspace a little bit with you, cuddling as aftercare, ricky's mommy issues are so bad (sorry freud), slowburn red x ashlyn, nini is an unprofessional menace

summary: after a fun, only somewhat chaotic photoshoot, you're gearing up for the blocking of when there was me and you, until rehearsal grinds to a halt with the release of some troubling news. ricky finds solace in your arms once again, and is enamored with the way you always know how to solve whatever problems are thrown your way.

song recs: I can't handle change - roar, truth justice and songs in our key - hsmtmts cast, you're my world - atlas

a/n: I finished the second half of this in like a day because I was so anxious about a check up because I hate medical stuff but the chapter's done and it went well. I'm getting my wisdom teeth out next week so I'll probably be so busy distracting myself from that I knock out like 5 more chapters /hj

anyway this was supposed to be short and it's almost 10k cause I have no self control lol anyway ENJOY <333

tags: @yesv01 @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @hopefullhearts @pikzel @demirunner @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames

You exit the girls dressing room, running towards Seb, who just left the boys dressing room.

"Oh my god!" You exclaim, floored by his costume. It's pink and sparkly, and fits perfectly - even the heels. It's everything he was imagining.

"I know!" He replies, matching your energy perfectly. You’re so happy that Seb loves his costume. Miss Jenn even added in a subplot and solo about Ryan finding himself beyond being Sharpay’s brother. He’s absolutely killing this role, breathing new life into it, and you couldn’t be happier for him. He’s still a little nervous, so you and your friends are making sure to hype him up.

You hear it before you see him, a hush falls over the room as everyone on stage around you falls silent. Someone tries (and fails) to hold back a loud snicker while a few people gasp.

“Alright, let’s do this!”

You turn around at the familiar sound of Ricky’s voice, and he’s happy he got your attention. He’s met with a myriad of reactions at the questionably styled wig, but he only cares about yours. He’s only looking for yours. He gives you a look, a little quirk of his eyebrow that silently asks what you think. You smile radiantly, overjoyed to see him in costume for the first time. You feel like a mother sending her kids off to the first day of school. You have the urge to get pictures before the day is over.

Standing downstage of you, Nina stares at him with her mouth open in a dramatic gasp, eyes following him as you move closer to each other.

“Oh… my… god. There is so much to talk about.” She says. She watches Ricky closely, waiting for some kind of reaction to her words, but his eyes are glued on you. She tries again, letting out another very loud laugh, “I literally can’t even.”

“I think he looks great!” you say with a sincere bubbling smile. You reach up, adjusting the alignment of his wig, the way the hair falls. He’s sure it looks much better than it had when he’d tried to put it on by himself. You tug gently on his hoodie strings, making them even lengths. He watches you closely while you do. He loves the feeling of you fixing his hair and clothes, he wishes there were more things for you to fix. You smile up at him, and irritation prickles in Nina’s chest at how close you are to him.

“You gotta get the hair flip down,” you say, jerking your head to the side in example. He follows your lead, copying the gesture, and you go back and forth like that for a minute, quoting Troy Bolton and making each other laugh. Your eyes widen as realization strikes.

"Oh my god, I know what this reminds me of…" you gasp, pulling out your phone to search for something, “I’ll text it to you.”

"Okay…" Ricky chuckles, smiling in anticipation and watching you type. You glance up when you hear Carlos telling Seb how amazing he looks. You pause typing and walk a few feet closer to them.

"I know, he looks fucking amazing!" You say with a radiant smile, and Carlos thoroughly agrees.

Spotting an opening, Gina makes her way over to Ricky.

"Wow," she says with a smile, really taking him in. "You look great, Ricky." Just as she’s working up the nerve to playfully nudge him on the arm, he smiles, motioning over to where you’re talking to Carlos and Seb.

“Yeah, she said the exact same thing,” he smiles, greeting you as you walk back over, “Gina agrees with you.”

“I know!” you smile, radiant, “Not a lot of people can pull off the whole 2007 Mitchel Musso look, but you’re really making it work.”

His heart pounds when you talk like that. Your words, your praise, your attention give him a sort of high he’s never felt from anyone else before. He craves it, and he always craves it more than he expects to.

“You think so?” he asks. Part of him knows he’s fishing for your attention, but the sweet look you give him, so excited to see him in costume for the first time makes it worth it.

“Yes!” you exclaim, vibrancy rubbing off on him, “You look fantastic, Ricky.”

His heart pounds loud in his chest, cheeks flushing at your words. Behind you, Gina’s stomach sinks. Old feelings of discouragement get more and more stirred up inside her the longer she stands there, watching the way he looks at you. It’s almost too much to bear by the time she cuts her losses, making up an excuse about getting something from her bag that she’s not sure either of you hear.

Nina watches this, her gaze flicking between you and Gina. A gross feeling coats her stomach. She expected to stay friends with Ricky, expected to still be close to him. More importantly she didn’t expect so many girls to just throw themselves at him. It’s disrespectful. It’s disrespectful to how long they were together. She and Ricky have been friends since kindergarten, they have history. They’ve known each other forever, and… it’s just funny, she thinks, that you and Gina think you can just swoop in and replace her like that. Before she can fester in this feeling much longer, Big Red has everyone line up.

“Okay, Chad,” he calls, pointing stage left, “Taylor, Troy, Gabriella, Sharpay, Ryan… good.”

Everyone gets lined up and spaced out correctly, as Red lines up the shot.

“Jump on the count of three.” he states, and begins to count down. The sound of everyone’s feet hitting the floor at very different times echoes through the auditorium. Red squints at the result on camera, which is nothing short of a complete mess.

“Wait, what happened?” he mutters.

“Where to begin.”

“Where do I start…”

You and Ricky say at the same time. You lean forward a little to share a look, a silent conversation exchange you both understand, both of you leaning past Nina to do so. She looks between you for that split second, then Ricky gets right back in line without even looking at her.

“I think you went early,” Seb says to you.

“Wait,” Gina interjects, “are we jumping on three or after three?”

“Yeah, the count of three. Ready?” Red replies, doing nothing to clear up the confusion.

“Red,” you say, and he looks up at you. Ricky watches you with a little smile, knowing you’ll no doubt know exactly what to do to get things back on track. “Are we jumping on the third or fourth beat?”

“Third,” he says, like it should be obvious, “on the count of three.” You nod, and turn to the others. “It’s one two jump.” you clarify, hopping as you do so to demonstrate. Your hair bounces and your skirt flounces and your heels make a little clicky noise as you land, and Ricky thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s ready to try again, now fully confident the photos will turn out perfect thanks to you. Next to you, Seb lets out a puff of air.

“I think I broke a heel…” he says, and you turn to take a look. Something itches at the corner of your mind, then it clicks.

“Hold on, I saw some glue back here somewhere…” Red flashes you a thumbs up as you run into the wings, searching for the bottle of gorilla glue you remember seeing earlier. After digging around in the stage right wing for a minute, you see it on a shelf, next to what looks like a bucket of old paint. You stretch up as far as you can, but even in these heels, you can’t reach it. Before you look around to see if there’s something you can knock it down with, you turn back to the stage.

“Ricky?” you call. He looks over at the sound of your voice like a puppy, scurrying over to you without a second thought.

“Yeah?” he smiles. You point up to where the glue is.

“I found it up there, but I can’t…”

“Oh, I got it.” he smiles, touching your arm. He reaches up and hands you the mostly full bottle. You thank him, squeezing his arm appreciatively.

“Thank god you’re tall,” you chuckle. His chest puffs up at your words, a soft heat creeping up to his cheeks. He watches you as you and Kourtney fix Seb’s shoe, how cute you look when you’re focused.

“There,” you state, “as long as the glue holds…” Seb puts his heel back on, and does a few test jumps. The glue seems to hold, and Kourtney sends you back in line, adjusting one last part of Seb’s costume. You type something into your phone, texting it to Ricky as you head back to the front of the stage. Ricky catches the last half of what Carlos is saying. He’s clearly frustrated at the lack of productivity.

“...You leave the earth, you land.”

“We just need to get back on the same page,” you say. Ricky pulls out his phone at the familiar sound of your ringtone he set. You must have sent him the thing you remembered. As he passes by, Nina sees your name at the top of his phone, framed by hearts. His screen is full of texts between you, but the last text Nina sent him got left on read? Ricky never leaves her on read. She scoffs at how oblivious he is to your blatant attempts to steal his attention from her.

“Uh,” she says loudly, a performative smile on her face as she holds back a laugh when he gets closer to her, “I can’t look at Ricky, is that a problem?”

He doesn’t look up, instead he looks at the text you sent him. It’s an image accompanied by the caption ‘you today’, and when it finally loads, he recognizes it instantly as a gif from the Elijah Wood ‘will you wear wigs’ interview. It catches him by surprise, and a loud screaming laugh tears from his throat. It’s so sudden, so sincere it brings a laugh out of you too. Everyone else either starts laughing with you, or looks completely shocked.

He slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the noise without much success. A smug satisfaction settles over Nina before Ricky starts to type something into his phone. He starts laughing again, tucking his phone back in his pocket, and when he shares a look with you she realizes it wasn’t her that made him laugh like that. It doesn’t sit well with her. You’re biting your lip, trying in vain not to laugh too loudly or obviously while everyone stares at the two of you, small chuckles echoing through the room.

“Okay.” Carlos says curtly, very clearly done with this bullshit, “Let’s take five.”

“Thank you, five.” you say automatically, and Ricky puts his hand on your back as you start to walk offstage to get some water.

“On five or after five?” he mutters, basking in the laugh you let slip out. Behind you, Nina lets out a shrill laugh at the comment, clapping her hands together in a way she’s sure will get Ricky’s attention. Her smile grows stale and evaporates as you sit next to each other without looking back once.

“So, why are you supposed to say thank you five?” Ricky asks as you take a sip from your water bottle, today filled with lemon and cucumber slices.

“It’s a call and response so the crew knows you got their instructions.” you say. He nods, and you continue, “You usually say it after a break is announced, when places are called, when they tell you how long until curtain, that kind of thing.” you conclude. Your knowledge about theatre never fails to amaze him. Hearing you talk about it makes him want to learn even more.

“When I was in Annie it seemed like something technical was always going wrong, so the call times were all over the place. It was a hot mess, but it was still so fun.” You reminisce with a smile. That’s not the first show you mentioned you’ve been in, Ricky recalls. He can tell you have… probably the most experience of anyone here, but he doesn’t think he’s ever asked how many shows you’ve been in. He would have remembered if you told him.

“How many shows have you been in?” he asks, watching your expression carefully.

“Uh…” you look over to where your castmates sit scattered about, then back to Ricky. You give him that look that means you have something to tell him when it’s just the two of you. “A lot. It’s a long story, though, I’ll tell you later.” You finish in a hushed voice. He loves when you talk to him like that, he loves the closeness between you in these moments.

You know you should probably mention you used to do professional theatre in New York before you moved here, but you always hesitate to bring it up. The last thing you want to do is sound like one of those theatre kids. Besides, you haven’t been in the professional circuit since middle school. You stopped in between shows a few years back when your parents' marriage got really bad and your dad left, and you couldn’t exactly perform while moving across the country, but you’re so deeply glad to be back in theatre now that you’re settled in.

Your mom was also worried about how much pressure was on you, being in a professional environment so young. She promised you that after you graduate, once you’re older, she’ll drive you all the way back to New York herself if you still want to do theatre professionally by then. You couldn’t argue with her, it was a lot to deal with that young, and your shitty dad didn’t make it much easier. She’s been able to watch the joy return, see your face light up when you tell her about how rehearsal is going, the progress you and the cast and crew are making, and you can’t deny she made the right call.

You think it’s good for you to act just because you love it for a while. You want the full suburban high school theatre experience, so if that means keeping a low profile and not being one of those douchebags who always brags about “doing professional shows” then you’re happy to keep that under wraps, but as you watch Ricky’s face while he rambles to you about how much more fun it is to be in costume than he expected, you feel like you can tell him. He knows you well enough to know your intentions, know that you’re not bragging about it.

At their next rehearsal, Red is relieved at how relieved Ricky seems.

“It worked! I just… I really made sure she knows how much I like her, and…” Ricky laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Thank you, for the advice, bro.” he lets out another bubbling chuckle, his mind clearly somewhere else. Red squints, wondering if it means what he thinks it means.

“Did you guys…” he starts slowly, not even needing to finish the sentence. The flustered look on Ricky’s face is the only answer he needs.

“Uh…” he says through yet another flustered laugh, the feeling of your mouth around him, the way you taste still fresh in his mind. He locks eyes with you from across the room, and feels his pulse speed up. “Yeah. I’ll fill you in later.”

Red playfully punches Ricky’s arm.

“I’m glad it went well! Cause I care about you, but also because I live vicariously through you.” They both laugh.

“Believe me, there’s plenty to catch you up on.” Ricky says, a wistful smile on his face, watching you talk to Natalie.

“Maybe we should get started. Or at least start warming up.” you say. Everyone’s wondering why Miss Jenn and Carlos aren’t there yet. You can sense her hesitance. It's not surprising, this show is new territory for almost everyone.

"You're the stage manager, you're third in command when Miss Jenn and Carlos aren't here. Why don’t you and Seb get everyone warming up, that way when they get here we can jump right in.” you offer, and she nods, gaining a little confidence.

“Yeah, you’re right.” she says, walking over to Seb, who’s sitting at the piano. You’re sure the only thing Miss Jenn and Carlos would hate more than starting rehearsal late is wasting time, especially with how tight of a schedule you’re on. Natalie and Seb are discussing said warmups when Carlos enters in a hurry, clearly frazzled, announcing that Miss Jenn won’t be here. One look past his chipper facade and you know whatever’s going on his bad.

“Miss Jenn had a… small personal matter to attend to, and won’t be here today.” in spite of the confidence he’s trying to project, you can see right through it. You’re sure the others can too.

“Is everything alright?” Nina asks, only now noticing that Carlos seems off. He laughs a forced casual laugh.

“Everything is fine.” he says, trying to convince himself, and you know that this is really bad. The next few minutes are spent arranging the blocking for when there was me and you. He introduces it as a forest of boys, and you think it could work really well if you execute it right. Instead of a giant poster of the basketball team to sing to, something in a tableau style will translate much better to the stage. It’s dynamic and expressive, while still making the same point, keeping the integrity of the message made in the movie. It’s also vaguely reminiscent of when Meg sings to the statues and the muses in Hercules, which adds to the whole Disney magic feeling. Overall you think it’s a great plan.

You’re about to express this, when you hear an all too familiar voice pipe up.

“Uh, Troy just broke Gabriella’s heart,” you resist the urge to roll your eyes, having a feeling you know where this is going, and Nina continues, "why would she want to see four more versions of him?"

You're somehow still shocked that she not only can't recognize that her character would handle a breakup differently than she would, but now she's trying to change a fundamental point in the show for no reason. Ashlyn, Kourtney, and even Natalie jump in and agree with her. This isn't the first time Nini has used her character as a thin veil to talk shit, and you're amazed at how bad she is at treating Gabriella like a character she's playing. For someone who wanted the lead so badly, she doesn't seem to care too much about it now. In all your years of acting, you don't think you've ever seen someone so unable to create a distinction between what they would do and what their character would do, and it’s very fucking weird.

Before she gets literally everyone else to agree with her, you jump in.

"Actually, I love this, Carlos. I think it’s really dynamic and effective without taking away from the song. Also," you turn to Nina, "it was 2006, so girlbossing your way through heartbreak wasn't really a thing. Plus, you're right; she did get her heart broken, she should be allowed to be sad about it."

"Yeah," Ricky agrees, looking over at you when you speak, "totally dynamic." He loves the way you talk about theatre, how brilliantly you analyze details or staging and character interpretations. He wishes he could hear you talk more about it, and makes a mental note to pick your brain later.

Nina looks at you, mouth agape, as Carlos gestures to you. Another perfect example of Ricky following you around like a lost puppy.

"Thank you, Sharpay, exactly." Carlos states as Nina scoffs, shocked at your response. He lets out a small sigh, grateful for the backup. "Gabriella is heartbroken, she can't stop thinking about Troy, about the guy she thought he was."

Ricky walks back over to his seat to set down his script. He leans down close to you before he does, wanting your opinion before he shares the idea he got.

"Maybe she could do, like, an acoustic guitar version. You know, strip it down." His voice is quiet, meant only for the two of you. You smile at him with such warmth before your gaze flickers to Nina. You hum, considering.

"I think you're the only one who could pull off an acoustic guitar ballad in the middle of such a… high energy show." A small, knowing laugh is shared between you, and as every kind word from your mouth does, your message comes across loud and clear, bringing a warmth to his cheeks and a puff to his chest. A rush of good happy chemicals hits his brain. As he heads back to his box, he ruminates on the sentiment. Not only do you think he could totally pull it off, you think he’s the only one who could. He fights a smile, trying to pay attention to the suggestions everyone starts giving Carlos.

“Or,” Kourtney jumps in, “she could be surrounded by a forest of supportive sisters.” she shares a look with Nina, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You hope it’s not only obvious to you that no one’s even really talking about the show anymore. A few other girls agree, and you can tell Carlos is losing patience. You walk across the room to check on him when he snaps.

“Okay, guys, this is not a democracy!” he yells, hands falling to his side before one rests on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” you ask, sincere and quiet, but not cloying, with a situationally appropriate level of concern on your face.

“Look, it’s not that deep,” Nina says, and you’re glad she’s finally backpedaling - or at least trying to - even though it took her this fucking long to realize she should. “We can just wait till Miss Jenn comes back and-”

“Well, she’s not here, and I don’t know if she’s ever coming back!” Carlos spits, relieved to finally get the distressing information off his chest.

Ricky’s stomach sinks, and he’s met once again with that disgusting cold feeling frying his nerves. It’s been a while since he had felt it this strong, this fresh. There were bad moments, sure. Like when he caught the family portrait of the three of them in the laundry room. He felt so sick looking at his mom’s smile. It seemed so genuine, and he hasn’t been able to stop questioning its integrity since. He’s spent every spare moment he’s not thinking about you or the show reanalyzing every conversation, every interaction, every passive aggressive remark and dish towel thrown too hard against the counter top, trying desperately to figure out if hers was the face of a housewife slowly losing her sense of self, unsupported, taken for granted and growing resentful, finally pushed to the edge.

Or did she never love them to begin with? Was everything out of obligation? Did she make him tea when he was sick or stressed or sad because she wanted to or because she had to? Maybe she loved them at some point, when he was too little to remember it clearly, or even know what he was supposed to be looking for. Old memories flood back, and he finds himself scouring them for a time when her tea might have started tasting different. Maybe that’s when she stopped loving him. Loving them.

He’s dragged into the undertow without warning, breath knocked out of his lungs by the force of it all, by the spike of anxiety that shoots up and stays there at the thought of Miss Jenn leaving.

“Wait, what?” he manages to choke out after that split second of spiraling, his stomach churning. Your hand finds and grabs on tight to his before he even speaks. You’re next to him in an instant, and he latches onto you, for once feeling like he has a buoy in this relentless sudden storm he always seems to get dragged into. Right when he thinks it’s going to be okay, right when he starts to get a handle on everything, he’s knocked off his feet.

You hold his hand with both of yours as he steps off his box, tighter and warmer and more reassuring than anything, and you rub your thumb against his skin while Carlos begins to tell you guys everything that’s going on. You listen with rapt attention, while keeping a close eye on Ricky. Everything is deteriorating so fast, and soon Nina grabs her backpack, storming to the exit and claiming she ‘needs a minute’. Kourtney follows her, then everyone else, and you feel Ricky’s hand shake in yours. His breaths get quicker as he watches everyone around him, his castmates, his friends, leave without a second thought.

“Rehearsals are officially canceled until further notice!” Carlos calls out, before leaving, defeated and fighting tears.

You continue to brush your hand over Ricky’s. The gesture is comforting.

“Well,” Gina says, grabbing her bag, “that fell apart fast.”

“Nothing fell apart.” you and Ricky say at the same time, yours sure and deliberate, his desperate to be true. Gina lets out a singular breathy laugh, unable to ignore how in sync the both of you are.

“Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll work this out.” you state, and Ricky latches onto your words, how assured you seem, throwing himself and all the belief within him that you’re right.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “it’s all going to be okay.”

Gina’s stomach twists at the way he repeats your words.

“Do you know something I don’t?” she asks Ricky. You send her a look, clearly asking what the fuck. Before you can call her out, Ricky jumps in.

“She’s Miss Jenn. She’s unstoppable. The whole show’s unstoppable.”

“But, what if-” she ignores your glares, demanding she knock it off. “What if it does stop?”

Ricky squeezes your hand tighter.

“Gina-” you say, a warning tone to your voice.

“Let’s not go there…” he says, a begging tone to his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree, “let’s not.” You turn back to Ricky, your free hand resting on his arm, rubbing gently. He wants to cry - both at the situation you’re both struggling to deal with, and the catharsis, the comfort he feels when you touch him like this.

“The show must go on.” You say firmly, “There’s no chance something as trivial as a mistake on Miss Jenn’s resume is enough to do any actual harm to the show.” there’s a light chuckle to your voice, one that he mirrors.

“Yeah,” he agrees, needing you to continue, which you do.

“When I was in Matilda when I was younger, the entire basement full of props got flooded the week of opening night.”

His eyes widen in concern, and you continue.

“Everything was soggy, and completely covered in mildew by the time we got back to the theater. You know what we did?” you ask Ricky rhetorically, who’s looking at you so intensely, hanging on your every word. “We paired down. We went for an abstract, minimalistic set design. Even threw in some shadow play for effect until the props and sets were all fixed.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you state, “and the critics loved it. They were raving about how genius it was, a brilliant way to showcase Matilda’s imagination and view of the world around her.” you say, quoting one of the more memorable reviews.

“So,” you say with a new lightheartedness to your voice brought on by the anecdote, “the point is, everything will be fine.” your sincerity is palpable, and you watch as he lets out a small, shallow breath. Gina doesn’t miss the way he relaxes when you put your hand back on his shoulder, the way he mirrors your expressions and body language and words without even realizing. He’s beginning to calm down from the worst possible news they could have gotten just because he’s with you.

“Y’know what?” she says, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I’m gonna head out, so…” she points toward the door. Ricky glances up, then back at you.

“Get home safe.” you say with a polite wave before continuing to reassure him. You talk a little more, and you’re relieved that you can see he’s starting to feel better. The distraction is helping him, you realize, as you stroll around the empty theater hand in hand. “Why don’t you show me that guitar version of when there was me and you?” He laughs nervously.

“I don’t know…” he mutters. A hint of concern flashes over your face. If he doesn’t even want to play guitar, it must be really bad.

“C’mon, pretty please?” you say, causing butterflies to swirl in his chest, “I want to hear it stripped down, and you’re so good at guitar…”

He lets out a flustered laugh, butterflies fluttering in his chest as he accepts the guitar you hand him, taking a seat. You watch him attentively as he begins playing the first chords, humming along.

In the hallway, a few feet away from the door, Nina sighs.

She can’t bring herself to walk away, not this time, not when she knows he’s probably wallowing, waiting for her. Letting out a loud, dramatic sigh, she decides to be the bigger person. She turns and walks back to the rehearsal room, hovering in the doorway when she hears familiar strumming. She watches Ricky, his back to her while he plays. She starts to enter the room, pausing when she sees that he’s singing to someone. Not just anyone, but you. You’re looking at him fondly, chin resting in your hand. She doesn’t have time to roll her eyes before you start singing along, noting how his voice stops shaking when yours mingles with his.

She’s having the worst day ever, EJ keeps texting her, and there’s Ricky, serenading you. She can’t even talk to him alone for five minutes without you hovering. She feels sick. She hates this, hates the way you ogle at him. She should be the one in there, the one duetting with him.. She’s known him since kindergarten for god’s sake, she has the right to comfort him. Tears welling up in her eyes, she storms off, pulling her song book from her backpack to pour everything into its pages. She’s ready to fill it with songs of betrayal and heartbreak.

After some more singing, wandering around, and examining old props from former shows, you and Ricky find yourselves on a stiff couch that’s been hidden in the back of the prop room for ages. Just being around props, costumes, old playbills and other paraphernalia makes Ricky feel better. There’s a restorative quality in theaters he never knew about until now. It’s like he can pretend that nothing is different than it was yesterday, like everything is still the same.

“Can… can we just stay here for a while?” he asks, hugging a basketball and leaning into you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, “‘course. As long as you want.” you press a kiss to the top of his head, and you both settle deeper into the couch, rough woven texture rubbing against your arms. He rests his head on your shoulder while you play with his hair, telling him more stories from your time in Matilda. Most notably how nice the person who played Miss Trunchbull was, and how tangled everyone’s hair was from being teased and styled so much. It smelled more like hairspray than when you were actually in Hairspray.

You trace shapes on his back while you talk. His breath is warm on your neck, and he can smell your perfume, the same peachy perfume you wore to homecoming. He’s flooded with memories of how beautiful you were that night, how you touched him, how you tasted. He lets out a soft sigh at the memory. He’s craving more than holding you, he needs to be closer, needs more. He needs to be inside you. He gives a fleeting thought to your location; it’s late, and he’s sure no one will come sniffing around the prop room in the guts of the theatre department. It’s enough justification for him, and he indulges his desires, beginning to press kisses to your face and neck. He grabs at your waist, drawing an anticipatory giggle. The noise soothes him, and he wants more.

“I-” he tries not to let his voice waver, but you know him so well by now it’s impossible to hide, “...just need you close. Need you with me.” he sighs into your skin, desperate for your smell, your touch, you you you. You rub his back, your touch so cathartic it makes him want to cry.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ricky.” you state gently, and he latches onto your words, wanting desperately to believe them. You pull him in to kiss you more, and he shoves his tongue past your lips, sighing into your mouth at how much better he already feels from that alone. He was right, he really does just need to be inside you, be as close to you as possible.

He climbs on top of you as you lace your hands through his hair, embracing the taste of your tongue against his. He lets out a shuddering sigh as you place your soft thigh between his, and he grinds against you, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. He whines at how good it feels, how much better you make him feel. He tugs at the waistband of your pants, and you smile a little at how eager he is for you. You reach into a pocket deep in your bag, zipped up tight, to grab a condom while he makes quick work of shimmying both your pants down.

“Will- will you put it on for me?” he whines quietly into your neck, and you nod, humming and running your hand through his hair in response.

He’s already moaning and you’ve barely started to put it on. He’s so needy, so desperate for you that it brings a smile to your face. You can’t deny how cute you find it. He pushes into you, trying not to go too fast, and the air is knocked from both your lungs as he works his way deeper into your wet, welcoming cunt. He fucks you needy and desperate, whining cutely like a little puppy as he humps into you. He grinds his pelvis against your clit, needing to be closer to you, and the noises you let out are like a warm shower after a long day.

“F-fuck, Ricky, just like that… good boy…”

He speeds up, whining and panting into your mouth as you praise him, and he feels little tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes. Both for how fucking bad today has been, and how fucking good you make him feel. Your touch, your words, the way you call him a good boy and reassure him as he tries to pull you closer to him even though you’re already as close as you can possibly get, it’s all so addictive. You’re so wet; tighter and warmer and more reassuring around him than anything. You feel so soothing, like aloe on a sunburn, and he wants more and more and more of it.

The head of his cock keeps rubbing against that spongy part inside you, drawing out more gasps and moans, more noises that make his heart pound. He can’t get enough. He’s grabbing at your clothes and clinging to you, begging, whining your name over and over like a prayer. He feels you tighten up around him, feels the way your legs shake, and it sends him over the edge. He had been sucking a hickey into your chest, but now his teeth and tongue graze your skin as he moans, rutting deeper and deeper into you as he spills all of himself into your welcoming embrace.

A few moments when he would normally pull out and get up, instead he buries his face in your neck. “Can we… just stay here for a minute?”

There’s still a fragile quality to his voice, and you begin running your fingers through his hair again, before pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Sure,” you say, nodding. You play with his hair as he sucks on your tits, his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He runs his tongue over the soft flesh, reveling in the taste, the way your walls flutter around him when he plays and sucks on your hardened bud. He finds comfort in the gesture, the way you taste. You stay like that for a little while, and Ricky feels his brain go fuzzy with how good you feel and taste, how sweet you are to him. If he could live between your legs - and with his face in your tits - he would in a heartbeat.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you slightly out of the warm little bubble you’ve created. It’s Ashlyn. You know she’s upset, she has to be after today. Ricky freezes, looking up at you to see what you do. You bring your finger to your lips, gesturing for him to stay quiet, then place your hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down to your soft chest.

You pick up the phone, chatting with Ashlyn, listening as she vents and worries to you, gently scratching Ricky’s back the whole time. You have such a casual, nurturing energy, and being squished between your tits, still deep inside you while you idly chat on the phone makes Ricky’s head spin. He can’t get enough of you, can’t stop thinking about how good you treat him, how nice your attention feels. When he wants a little more, he’ll grind his hips against your twitching clit, just to feel the way you throb and squeeze around him, to hear the little hitch in your breath that you try to conceal.

You send him a warning look, but you can’t keep a straight face, not when he’s looking at you like that.

“Hey, what if we did a song?” you ask into the phone, Ashlyn silent on the other end as she listens, “Like, what if we did a huge, original, show stopping number, and, like… a flashmob at the meeting tomorrow. You know, show them what we can do when she’s the one directing us.”

“I… love that. Oh my god, I’m dead. Yes.” she states, and you smile. “I- god, I’m already getting ideas. Uh… okay, can you meet me at Big Red’s?” she spitballs, excited to work on this.

“Yeah,” you say, gaze flickering back down at Ricky, “we’ll be over in a few, text everyone else - we’ll need as much backup as we can get.” you chuckle.

“Oh,” she says, a knowing tone to her voice, “is… Ricky with you?” Dammit. Now you have to play this off.

“Uh, yeah, we were just-” you trail off, fighting a giggle as he grinds against you. He chuckles into your tits, feeling them jiggle around his mouth.

“We were just hanging around the theater,” you finish, “he didn’t want to leave yet.”

“Yeah,” she says, thinking about earlier, regretting leaving so soon, “tell me about it. Anyway, get here as soon as you can so we can work on this.”

She hears a light, flustered giggle distantly through the speaker, and knows it’s him making you laugh. She could let it slide, but calling you out is too tempting.

“...Hi, Ricky.” she says. It’s silent for a minute.

“Hi, Ashlyn.” his voice is sheepish, and she hears you both giggle. She’s glad you know she knows you’ve been hanging out together, flirting too, no doubt. You hang up shortly after, then begin the process of finally detangling yourselves from each other, and cleaning up enough to look presentable. Ricky’s chest squeezes when you adjust his hoodie strings and fix his hair. He returns the caring gesture by helping you to his car, your legs still wobbly.

By the time you get to Red’s, Ashlyn already has some lyrics she’s working on, and part of a chorus. Red looks at Ricky, nodding toward you. Ricky looks at him pointedly, gaze flicking to Ashlyn, noting the flustered look on Red’s face. Red gives him a look that screams HAHAHA WHAT? NO! Why is it obvious?? Ricky makes a mental note to grill him on it later.

They watch you and Ashlyn work together, brainstorming lyrics and choreo as everyone else arrives, and Ricky is thrilled to see you in your natural habitat like this. By the time everyone else is there, you, Ashlyn, and Carlos have made great progress, with everyone else helping to bounce around ideas and iron out details.

“You know,” Nina starts, a performative tone of wisdom to her voice, “I think we should go for a power ballad.”

“Uh…” you look over at Ashlyn, who you can tell is feeling defensive over the work you’ve already done. You look at Carlos, who doesn’t seem to want to do a power ballad either. You choose your words carefully.

“I totally see where you’re coming from, a power ballad would be really impactful, but I think in this case we need to go for something with more wow factor.”

“A power ballad has wow factor!” she says. Even she realizes how flimsy that sounds. She lets out a contemptuous sigh, “But a power ballad would show how much she means to us.” she’s clearly trying to tug on the heartstrings, and it’s not working on you. You check the clock. You don’t have time to debate with her.

“Realistically,” you start, a decisive tone to your voice, “I don’t think we have time to rework all this into a power ballad. I think we should stick with the direction we’re going in, and commit-”

“Oh, so you want to play it safe?” she asks, seeming like she caught you in something, “I thought music… was about taking risks.”

You hold back the biggest sigh of your life, when Ricky jumps in behind you.

“I think we should listen to her.”

Nina starts to thank him, the sees that he’s pointing to you. The words dry up in her throat.

“She is like,” he continues, “the most talented person I’ve ever seen. She really knows what she’s talking about, guys.”

Everyone seems to agree, except for Nina. You can feel the pissy aura radiating off her already. You send him a grateful look, then turn back to her, trying to be professional.

“A power ballad is still a great idea-”

“No, no.” she says, passive aggressive and dismissive, “you go ahead. I’ll just be quiet.” everything about her is making your irritation spike, but you know you don’t have time to babysit her or her feelings. If she thinks she can make you feel bad for that, then she’s wrong.

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.” You state, before getting back into it with Ashlyn.

As soon as you finish holding out the final note, you’re met with cheers that turn into roaring applause. Your mom and Ricky’s dad both advocated for Miss Jenn, tipping the scales for Principal Gutierrez to agree, letting her keep her job. Ricky finds you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around. He holds you so tight, and you both giggle, elated. You can’t believe it really worked. When he pulls away you can see it on him, the electric energy, the rush of a good performance. He doesn’t even need to say anything because you’re feeling the same thing, and the silent understanding is shared between you.

“This will be nothing compared to opening night.” you say, your smile infectious, and he can’t wait. Like, he genuinely can’t wait for opening night. He’s never been more motivated for anything than he has for this, performing alongside you again. He’s gotten a taste, and he wants more.

Nina hugs Seb. When she pulls away, she sees you and ricky talking animatedly - and very close together. She deflates at the sight before her. You’re holding each other and laughing, absolutely beaming at each other. A knot forms in her stomach.

“What are they even talking about?” she scoffs.

“Probably some cute story about when the basement flooded when she was in Matilda.” Gina mutters. Nina hadn’t noticed she was there, but something about that rings a bell she can’t place. It’s scratching around in the back of her mind, and she wonders why that sounds familiar.

Across the room, Ricky catches his dad and Miss Jenn talking real close together too. You follow his gaze, eyes widening. You see how his brow furrows, and think now would be a good time for a distraction.

“You know,” you start, drawing his attention back to you, “if you want to this weekend, I can show you some of the shows I’ve been in.” you offer.

“Are you kidding?” He asks with a chuckle, his whole face lighting up, “Yes! Yeah, absolutely!” You smile, your expression mirroring his.

“After we catch up on our sleep, though,” you say, exhaustion setting in from both the all nighter and the high energy performance you just pulled off. You rub your eyes, bleary. “Cause I am about to crash, dude.”

“Same,” he laughs, and it quickly turns into a yawn. You both giggle, making your way to Ricky’s dad’s car so he can drop you off before you take Ricky home. Your mom has a meeting starting ten minutes ago, so she had to rush over to city hall right after you got the good news, and Mike offered to give you a ride. He drops you off, watching the way you and Ricky talk. You’re still having a good time together even when you’re this tired. It’s a positive sign, he thinks. Soon they’re turning into their driveway, and he knows he has minutes before Ricky’s out like a light.

“She seems nice,” he starts, expecting Ricky to brush it off or act all embarrassed, demand you’re just hanging out, or whatever the kids are calling it now. Instead, he’s met with a wistful sigh.

“Yeah… she is.” he says with an exhausted, sincere smile. The openness of his answer surprises Mike. “She’s… the best.”

Ricky’s inside and falling into bed before Mike can ask any follow up questions, but he intends to a little later. He doesn’t know if it’s because of Jenn, or the show, or you, but he’s so glad to see Ricky smile like that again.

#ricky bowen #ricky bowen x reader #hsmtmts ricky #hsmtmts #hsmtmts smut #hsm x reader #rocks at your window #good news about the doctor thing is some stuff looks like it might happen way faster than i expected #which i'm happy about #also not going to think about #just going to write more rocks lol

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saradika · 1 year

Text

hoping against hope

Rated M - 2.8k

Pairings - kino loy x wife!reader

Tags: andor spoilers, fix-it fic, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence and death, anxiety, vaguely implied sexual content, loose third-person pov, flashbacks

Summary: There is one way out. And against all odds - he takes it.

He comes home.

A/N - Based heavily on this vanity fair interview (the snippets of his backstory), and an exploration to see what it might be like if he had made it home to his family (which comprises of his wife - no descriptors given). Of course Andor is so brilliantly written - this is purely for a little bit of angst and comfort.

There had been a time - years ago - when a knock at the door would have had her racing through the room.

Her heart leaping into her throat as she threw open the door, chest so tight she could hardly breathe.

And now, she despises it.

It’s become a painful thing, something she’s become dulled to over the years. Enough to where if she has company, they will answer the door for her. Walk right in, if they know she is home.

But she’s alone, tonight.

And the knock rings out, again.

———

It’s late, far past dark - nerves coiling in her stomach as her fingers curl around the blaster. Something she had never wanted to own, but had become a necessity over the past few years.

With the troopers that moved into town, the trouble seeming to follow in their wake. A constant and painful reminder of what happened.

It’s been close to a decade but she still remembers the call - the hushed croak of a voice, the tone of someone not wanting to be overheard.

“It’s Kino. They’re here, at the mine-”

She knew the comm was from one of the boys on his shift. Had barely made it in time, pushing her way to the front of the crowd as a group of men were slapped in binders.

Her husband - red-faced, the shaken-loose swoop of hair that swung across his forehead - still arguing, as his arms are yanked behind him.

Her voice, carried through the air - his snarl cutting off as he sees her. The flash of sorrow, the moment of distraction used to push them into the transport.

Eight years.

For disturbing the peace.

For disrupting Empire regulations and procedure.

For just wanting fair hours - the recent increase in output leading to illness, accidents, injury. Two men in critical condition, a dozen more wounded, from a collapsed tunnel that never should have happened.

All under his watch.

It could have all been prevented.

It had been enough to make him snap.

A calm discussion that had quickly turned to shouting, to violence, leading to four men arrested. Their judgment passing just as quickly - barely any time to process, to say goodbye - before he was gone.

And it’s like a ghost stands before her now - as the door swooshes open. The blaster clattering to the floor, because she knows that shape, the curve of lips and the shape of a nose beneath the low hood of the cloak.

The hands that push the fabric back, the bit of light from the twin moons casting shadows across his face.

And though a part of her know this - her brain seems to stutter, the picture in front of her not making sense.

Because, it was him. Not entirely the him she knew. Her husband. His face is different - still him, just older. The dark ink of his hair turned silver, the light, neat beard now full and long. Lines carved deep from time around his eyes and forehead.

Though, his eyes are the same.

The same as the photos, the same as in her memories and dreams.

They blink at her - no words coming as he takes a step forward. As her arms are coming to wrap around him, a sob choking her as his hand curls around the back of her head, crushing her against him.

He was home.

———

The door locks in place when he steps inside.

There’s a million questions they both have, all of them tight and stuck in their throats. A weird sort of melancholic remembrance - a moment in time where things felt just as they had been. A jolt as they realize it couldn’t be more different.

She says his name and it’s like a gift - his memory returning, so much already restored when he had stepped onto this planet. Even more so when he found his way to the town.

So unsure if she would still be there.

That was something that had been on his mind for days, months. Years.

Afraid that she would have left. Or maybe, if she had stayed - that she had moved on.

Found someone else.

He wouldn’t have blamed her.

It would have hurt - after everything. Crawling his way out of that hell, to get back here.

But - he would have understood.

That twist of unease and fear finally and mercifully laid to rest, when he saw her standing in their doorway.

He’s home, but he’s not.

It’s not the same, and it never will be.

Her hand trembles against his face, thumb brushing over weeks-old scruff. He leans into it, the first touch in years that wasn’t a means to an end.

When her mouth presses to his and his eyes close, it’s now and it’s twelve years ago and he can hear a rough, ragged sound that takes him a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat.

Eight years of pushing everything down, springing to the surface as his jaw grits.

She leads him to their room. Set up the same but much like them, the details had changed over the years. Searching through closets that still hold his things, even after all this time.

Finding him clothes, to get him out of the ones he’s been working in, traveling in, sleeping in. Clothes that weren’t even his - the shoes too tight on aching feet, the jacket frayed at the cuffs and heavily stained.

Both a luxury, after the prison.

“Tell me everything.” She tells him, handing him an old sweater that smells freshly laundered.

He hesitates.

So much like he had on the platform at Narkina 5.

Because nothing had turned out the way he thought it would. Even after the days, weeks, it took to get back here - he's still uncertain.

Such a different hestitation from before, because then, he had been sure of what would happen. Had known from the beginning, as soon as the whispers began.

Had made peace with it the night before. A stab of guilt the he had thought about the complicity he had been lulled into. The daze and ache in the hallway with Ulaf that came when he realized he was never going to leave that prison alive.

Because there would be no escape.

Not for him. Not here.

He couldn’t swim.

An irony that was not lost on him. It was a prison in more ways than one - caging him in, even as he stood, breathing in the fresh air.

Feet planted flat on the platform as the others rushed by, diving into the ocean, to their freedom. The rueful smile he had managed to send Keef, before the despair set in - so close to freedom, after all those years.

At the cost of his self-sacrifice, thousands of others could go home, rejoin their families. It was what he had to do, he knew that.

She was never far from his mind, as his eyes closed. Stinging, from the sun and the wind and the tears that seem to spring up, unbidden.

Not paying attention to the surge of men from another floor, rushing from the stairs. His feet ripped out from underneath him as he's suddenly falling.

Plummeting.

Kino is ripped from the memory when she touches his arm - still unsure if he’s real. A sentiment he understands well, the ghost of a smile he sends her way in thanks.

He’s sure he’s frightening her, that she’s worrying. So - as he eases off the torn, canvas jacket - he begins.

He fills in what he can - as he tugs on a pair of thick woolen socks, because he never wants to be barefoot again. Because she knows the timing didn’t line up. That he’s early, that something had happened.

Her hand clutched in his, as he catches her up over these years they’ve been apart. His voice clipped and mechanical, because the wounds are too fresh, and this is the only way he can get through them.

But there’s so many things he doesn’t tell her.

That he won’t ever say out loud.

How he’s spent the last three years unable to remember the way her voice sounded.

Hating himself for forgetting.

How he never thought he’d breathe fresh air, again. How there’s so much of him he’s had to tamp down, close up inside his head, just to make it through each day. Turning himself into a shell, because he had to.

How he’s seen death. Time and time again.

Seeing his own on that platform, how he mourned for himself but also for the woman waiting for him. Wondering if she would ever find out what happened.

His throat growing tight as he weaves in what he can. Skipping over the parts that were too painful. Trying to make her understand just how dire things had been, for all of them.

Her fury and fear and amazement written so plainly across her face. It’s hard to bear.

The afterwards is easier. How those in the water had scattered - how the few of them that had made it to the eastern shore had escaped.

Grateful for Keef again - figuring out how to sneak them aboard a transport that was heading off-world. Stealing clothes, lying through their teeth. Surviving.

Finding men desperate enough for workers, that they didn’t care where they came from. It had almost been funny - the old Weequay foreman telling them to keep their heads down, to do what they were told. It felt different, when you were a free man.

He could do that.

Hours of hard labor in exchange for a pitiful amount of credits. Each day passing, until he could afford a ship home.

Talking until his throat grows hoarse, until he’s realizing for the first time just how weary he is.

She takes over then - like she always had. Coaxing him to bed after a long shift, making him take care of himself.

Sliding in besides him, just as they used to. Lying in silence, her head pressed against his chest. His arms around her in an iron grip.

“I missed you.” He speaks into the dark, “Stars, I missed you.”

Grateful she can’t see him, the cracks that threaten to shatter his armor. He isn’t sure what would happen if she could.

Isn’t sure he’s that strong, yet.

His eyes shut when she repeats the words back.

Finally feeling like he can breathe again.

———

It pains her to hear what happened. To see him like this, though she’s never been more grateful. It’s feels unbelievable, what he’s been through.

Staying awake after he drifts off, exhaustion pulling him under after his long travels, the effort of revisiting the memories.

Watching him, the furrow in his brow that persists, even when asleep.

He’d always been a stern man.

It had become a running joke, the man who was used to barking orders, keeping the line running flawlessly.

A loth-wolf, ferocious as one.

Until he met her.

“And what am I, now?” He had asked, an eyebrow cocked - at one of their evenings spent in good company, at the local cantina.

The two men across from her exchanged looks, before one smirked, leaning closer.

“A tooka, chief.”

Kino had scoffed, lifting his glass - but she could see the edge of a smile hidden behind the cup.

Could feel the warmth of his hand, from where it rested along the back of the booth. Where his fingers brushed the bare skin of her neck, goosebumps raising after.

There was a lot she remembered about that night.

But, she thinks - that softening was gone.

All hard edges, now. Rougher than before.

She think she understands. She isn’t sure she could have made it through what he did - what he had to do to made it home.

The waiting had been agony, but she had bared it. The boys at the mine had been there for her, after. Checking on her, making sure she ate. They had respected him, knowing what he had done was for them.

But Kino had been alone. Stolen from her.

He wasn’t the only thing that Empire had taken from them.

Once upon a time, recently after they were married, there had been whispers. Just little hopes and dreams under the sheets, about their future together. Where they would live, where they would go. What they would do.

Things that she wasn’t even sure were possible - but at that moment, it hadn’t mattered.

It feels like the Empire has stolen that from them, as well. Hope and dreams and time.

So much time.

But, she thinks - maybe they could make it up.

Together.

———

It’s still dark when he finds himself gasping for breath.

Forgetting for a long moment where he is.

This happens often now - the memory of falling. The feeling of weightlessness, the terror as he suddenly jolts awake - expecting the icy impact.

Remembering the way the fear tasted as he went under, as sharp as the salt water that filled his throat.

Somehow - mercifully, instinctually - finding his way to the surface.

Thinking, better to die here, a free man - than face the same death of so many before him.

But he hadn’t. Another grace of the gods, the Force, he'd thank anything - as some of the men from his shift find him. He thinks he tells them to leave him. It’s hard to remember, the panic overshadowing his memories.

But they don't.

They remember his words.

You see someone who's confused, someone who is lost, you get them moving and you keep them moving until we put this place behind us.

They put the place behind them.

His feet touched down on land.

He reaches for her then, remembering. Just as he had reached for them, just as his head was about to submerge again.

The worn cotton of her nightdress feels like silk to his calloused fingers. Unable to sleep soundly in a room that isn’t harsh and white and sterile.

Too warm in his clothes but it’s better than being cold all the time, as he curls himself around her again. Slowly recounting all the things he’s forgotten.

Reacquainting himself with the one he loves, as she stirs, rolling over to face him. Remembering with slow and careful fingers, how they used to fit together so perfectly.

If he only has tonight - then he’ll make it count.

———

There’s the brush of his cheek against hers as the sky just starts to turn from violet to bronze, a voice low in your ear. Tugging her from slumber - this time a much more rested sleep.

“I can’t stay.”

There’s an edge to his voice, sorrow wrapped in steel because he hasn’t been sure how to tell her.

Because he had known. Had been asked to go with Keef and Melshi - where he had hesitated again.

“I can’t.” He had rasped, his eyes bouncing between the two of them.

Keef had understood. The sharp look in his eye, the way his head ducked to make eye contact. His words just as clipped and clear and sure as during that moment in the elevator.

“Kino. There is no going back. Not now.”

He knew there wasn’t. Not to before.

But he could afford a night, couldn’t he? Hadn’t he earned that, after all of those years?

Just a chance to see her, again.

She turns, frowning as she blinks sleepily at him, trying to caught up. Awake enough to notice the singularity of his words, the exact tone in which he says them.

“It’s not safe. For you, for me.” His arms tighten around her, betraying his words, “I haven’t told you everything that’s happened. I need to leave, before-“

Kino’s word die off as she scoffs, her frown deepening - as she rolls over to face him.

It’s insulting. How he assumes she’s stayed here because she wanted to. That she wouldn’t have ran - to her old home, to somewhere new, anywhere - if there had been a way to tell him.

That she hadn’t been terrified to leave the house for weeks, in case something had changed, and he had come home. That she still left notes when she left the house for more than an hour.

That she hadn’t been staying for him.

He misinterprets, hurt flashing across his features, before his jaw sets. But then she’s kissing him, the soft press of her mouth before she’s pushing herself up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed.

“Tell me the rest, then.” She calls from over her shoulder, as she pull the bags out from the storage beneath, “While we pack.”

She’s waited for him - just as he had for her.

She wasn’t letting go of him now.

#a fix it fic #kino loy x reader #kino lot x f!reader #kino loy x you #Kino Loy #andor spoilers

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98chao · 1 year

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so... lmk s4 special... ill try to keep my words vague enough so that people who don't have the spoilers tag blocked for some reason like. don't get spoiled LOL

(of course it's in mandarin so none of my opinions are concrete since i only had context clues to go off of)

i wanna say it was GOOD and i was shaking and lowkey hyperventilating while watching it, but the ending did leave a lot to be desired. and i mean a LOT. where i was kinda like "wait that's it?" when i realized i was near the end.

the tonal whiplash at the end too, like damn. of course i understand they can only fit it in 11-minute episodes each so the pacing is rough, that's something i also noticed in season 3. but i'm not sure how to feel about it :S

i still really enjoyed season 4, but i have to say it's my least favourite out of all the seasons. i know that's definitely a hot take for most lmk fans but that's just how i feel ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ can't really explain why though.

animation was still beautiful though :) that's always a constant with this show that i'm really glad about.

i can't think of anything else to write X) if anybody wants to ask me about something more specific relating to this then go ahead.

#lmk s4 spoilers #lmk s4 special spoilers #not art

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ell-arts · 4 months

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hi i'm just jumping in your inbox rq to say that backstab fucking ROCKS and im so happy i made all the right life choices to where im HERE and able to read it in it's glory . thank you for feeding me, zac's #1 fan , with this absolute MEAL (ik youve probably been dying laughing at my reblog but im still in a bit of a fervor bc THE PART WITH SUNNY WAS SO SO SO CUTE. THIS PART IN PARTICULAR PLAGUES MY GAY ASS

he's so cute he;s so cute HE LOVES HIS WIFE SO FUCKING MUCH IMGONNA CRY TEARS . CRYING SCREAMING SOBBING IM GONNA BE SICK AND SICK AND ILL AND SICK AND DEATHLY LIKE A VICTORIAN CHILD WITH POLIO ABOUT THIS 5EVER I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO LOOK AT THEM AND APPRECIATE THEM . SUNNY X ZAC MENTIONED IN A ONESHOT I LIKE ABOUT ZAC EVERYONE GO HOME THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

tl;dr ella back at it again with the killer fanfiction . you rock homie

DANG, I'm glad you enjoyed it that much!!! I thoroughly enjoy reading your reactions to my work! >:D

Not sure if you caught it (I may have written it a bit vaguely) but this part here has some deeper meaning for Zac too (spoilers ahead)

Zac didn't say this just in the sense of getting back home alive, but that he knew he had to get back home to protect and provide for the family he was going to have - to Sunny and his unborn child. Of course, before the carnival fell into chaos, he had no official confirmation that he was going to be a dad, he only had speculation. But he knew the possibility was there. And so at this moment in time, when he was faced with death, he inwardly decided that he was going to make it back home alive. To not leave Sunny a widow, and to make sure his unborn had a father in its life. Which is amazing and noble, but also very tragic. Because we know that Pac ended up having neither mother nor father in his life oof :'D

Thought you might like this extra bit of info :-)

Yes I may or may not have laughed myself silly with the tags in your reblog. Mwahaha. Thank you so much for checking Backstab out!!

#ask #pmatga #pacman and the ghostly adventures #pmatga zac #pmatga sunny #Zac Orbon #Sunny Orbon #Backstab

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lily-ohfally · 7 months

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📍 Pinned

Meet Lily Oh'fally! A Rava, Viera living in Ul'dah and have lived there for 10 years. He takes care of 4 younger Viera whom he have come to call his family. Three younger sisters and a younger brother. He works hard for their sake, but sometimes he works a bit too hard...

⚠ BEFORE YOU FOLLOW -> My main blog is ieatsoapdotcom! -> R18 content, I tag stuff but if you're under 18 kindly leave👍 -> I'm not responsible for your browsing experience, if you don't like what I do just unfollow/block me♥ -> Potential triggers and spoilers will be tagged with the following: [Expansion] spoilers, ie. Heavensward spoilers [Potential trigger] warning, ie. violence warning Tag list found [Here]

Lily and his surrogate family hails from Golmore jungle, though they keep it somewhat vague when it comes to their past, whether it's because of trauma or lack of memories is anyones guess. After arriving in Thanalan, they lived outside the walls of Ul'dah for many moons. Lily did his best to create connections with the merchants, doing almost anything to earn them enough coin to live. Though, Ul'dah's hostility towards refugees made things more complicated, an Lalafellian merchant had taken a liking to Lily and helped him gain a respectable reputation. Their relationship grew into a familiar one, Lily still refer to him as Gramps.

Around his 18th summer, Lily met another viera, one who was much older than him and ended up becoming his mentor of sorts. A veena with the stage name Doll who worked at a "night venue" hidden away in one of Ul'dah's many alleyways. Lily ended up working at the same venue, though exclusively as a dancer. Doll threatened the owner that "if anyone lays a hand on him, I'll kill you", as he didn't want the young viera to be defiled. Lily had always been admiring the dancers on the streets, imitating their moves from the shadows as he too wanted to dance in front of a crowd, and so he ended up doing. Though the place was not quite what he had hoped for, he would still happily dance on stage, attracting large crowds and ended up earning almost 3 times what his day job provided. His love for dancing was obvious once he started moving on the stage, his movements fluid and flawless, his expression content and gentle, almost as if he had ended up in his own world.

Lily became very gil oriented after coming to Ul'dah. Thinking that enough gil would ease the burden on his siblings and make their lives easier. Though in trying to earn more and more, he would often work himself into exhaustion. Falling ill and passing out several times throughout his life, as he wanted his siblings to focus on studying and learning, rather than working and worrying. Though they know he means no harm, they also want to help him ease the burden.

Lily is uneducated and can barely read and write. His math skills are somewhat high in comparison, being able to save money is important after all. He's also feared as a customer on the streets of Ul'dah, as he is able to bargain well and is known for being a fearsome haggler. Though, loved he is too, as he often takes any job thrown his way by the merchants and traders.

His family is made up of Lily, Layla, Kanna, Rose and Violet. Lily: Male, 25-30*, 186cm, Rava. Layla: Female, 20-25*, 190cm, Rava. Kanna: Female, 17-22*, 173cm, Rava. Rose: Female, 15-20*, 169cm, Rava. Violet: Male, 14-18*, 167cm, Rava.

Additional information:

I ship Lily with Haurchefant!! Tag is HaurcheLily and I am very delusional about them ♥️

Lily's forest name was Raeja. He changed it to Lily because of Lily of the Valley's and his fondness of them.

He is generally modest, but when dancing or working he prefers wearing light/little clothes that doesn't get in the way or get dirty.

His main colors are Royal Purple and Metallic Red. Lily's favorite colors are purples with gold.

Compared to in-game, Lily has a lot of muscle!! Wide shoulders, big boobs and strong thighs!!

*Ages from ARR to EW. They MIGHT be changed around a bit in the future so nothing is totally set except for Lily being the oldest and Rose and Violet being the youngest.

#ffxiv #ff14 #lily oh'fally #warrior of light #ffxiv oc #ffxiv viera #final fantasy 14 #male viera #viera #pinned

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riftiee · 4 months

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hi I got you on my tl because I follow the hld tag and saw the ask talking about what the game is about! I've beaten the game myself but I have pretty much no knowledge of the lore , I know you weren't wanting to talk about it bc spoilers but do you know where I could learn more? I don't think the wiki is a good place is it? is there a wiki that's not the Fandom one that might be better? :0

[SPOILERS FOR HYPER LIGHT DRIFTER]

Forgive me, I’m pretty sleepy and typing this on my phone, but I’ll take a crack at it ;]

sadly Hyper Light Drifter doesn’t really have a great comprehensive lore wiki that is all in one place. The game itself is very interpretive and the lore is pretty ambiguous, a big part of it is a lot about filling in the blanks.

An important thing to note is that the game itself was inspired by Alx Preston’s (the creator) congenital heart disease. There is a lot of symbolism relating to this concept throughout the game.

One of the most important parts of lore in the game comes from the Monoliths. Once you locate all of the Monoliths, you reach a library room containing every monolith plus a bonus walk of text. The bonus wall of text, after being translated, reads:

“HARNESSING A GREAT WELLSPRING, A PERFECT IMMORTAL CELL WAS CRAFTED TO BE IMBUED WITHIN ALL SENTIENT LIFE A NOBLE GOAL, THOUGH SUCH A POWER TERRIFIED OTHERS, AND BROUGHT RUIN AS ITS PURPOSE WAS TRANSMOGRIFIED THE ABHORRENT CELL STILL FESTERS DEEP IN THE CHAMBERS OF THIS WORLD”

Knowing that Judgement is also known as the Perfect Immortal Cell, we are able to figure out that HLD is set in a world where scientists (?) created the ‘immortal cell’, Judgement, by harnessing the power of something called the Great Wellspring [Anubis]. I believe the Perfect Immortal Cell’s original intention was to, well, grant the people of the Land of Light immortality… but some people were fearful of of this power, and so eventually, a war broke out, which caused the Immortal Cell to become corrupted, creating what we now know as Judgement.

It is unclear what the four Titans came from and what their intended purpose is, but we do know that they were somehow involved in the war. It is often theorized that Judgement was the one who ‘activated’ the titans. The four Titans ravaged the land, wiping out almost everything in their path, and completely wiping out the South zone, leaving it as an uninhabited desert. They were all eventually ‘killed’, leaving their ‘skeletons’ to litter the Land of Light.

After the Titans ravaged the land, in order to try and contain the Immortal Cell/Judgement, the remaining population gathered together and trapped the Immortal Cell in an underground cavern in order to prevent it from being able to harm anyone anymore. This same underground cavern under the central town is where the final battle of the game takes place.

The Immortal Cell (at least up until the events of the game) has festered beneath the earth ever sense, waiting. However, for some reason which is unclear, Judgement still haunts the Drifters, giving them frightening, violent visions and presumably causing them their illness.

Again, as I’ve states before, there is seriously just a TON of extra stuff that I can’t even begin to dig into… This game is absolutely full of little secrets. Alx Preston has also done a lot of Heart To Heart streams in which he talks about the lore of Hyper Light Drifter, so if you’re ever interested, those are a cool thing to check out; He gives a lot of interesting little details that we otherwise may not have every known!

Overall the game is intended to be pretty vague, and is extremely symbolic. A lot of it is meant to be left up to interpretation, so take it as you will…! There’s some really great posts out there on Reddit, as well as this Youtube video which does a MUCH better job than I could ever do at explaining the lore in much more detail.

Sorry if this was a bit convoluted or not what you asked for, but I do hope this helps “:] Thank you for the ask, as always!!!

#ask #hld #hyper light drifter #heart machine

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possiblytracker · 2 years

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POKEMON LEAK SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT/DISCUSSION OF STARTER FINAL EVOLUTIONS PLEASE DONT LOOK IF YOURE AVOIDING THERE AREN'T ANY IMAGES BUT STILL

bro why are they all gay

leaving it at that and just talking in tags would be funnier but those arent hidden so you get this. why is meowscarada just every weed smoking girlfriend. why is quaquaval caked up. plus i saw footage of its run cycle and That Duck Is Gay. this is the funniest shit ive ever seen i dont even hate the designs theyre just. theyre just. i know ill get used to them and theyll Probably grow on me but gjshgsjDHS

anyway stan skeledirge the second i saw that beast i knew i picked the right splatfest team lets fucking GO...... primarina and greninja might vaguely count but other than that the last time we've had a non-biped final starter was gen 5 let me have this. singing ghost crocodile my fucking beloved i am gripping and shaking it so hard rn

#pokemon leak spoilers #pokemon spoilers #pokemon sv #pokemon sv spoilers #yes theres a cut as well yes im playing it safe please dont be mad at me jDJGHKSDJ

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sukugo · 8 months

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Yeah I wasn't sure if you're okay with leaks and spoilers so I tried to be vague. It's alright, I'll wait till you're seen the chapter! Do you typically read the official translation on Sundays/Mondays or fantranslations that come out 1-2 days after the leaks? There's another thing I noticed actually, I'd like to think that it proved my theory right? I'll save that for later as well.

Oh yes please read The Path To Insanity, on AO3! I highly recommend it. It's so good to the point where I couldn't stop thinking about it for few days lol.

Hmm I think so, most of us have been suffering after some Bad Shit™ happened and I think you'll be affected too. Sending you positive vibes in advance! It's good that you're actively avoiding leaks because the fandom is literally imploding rn, it's chaos everywhere. Though surprisingly it didn't hit me as hard as I thought it would. I think it's due to the fact that I'm too busy being conflicted at how it was executed and stressed over how future chapters would turn out so I don't really have the capacity for sadness atm.

I wonder what you'll think after you've read it. Like personally I found it pretty haphazard and laughable lmao. It just feels strange and surreal in a bad way, maybe Gege meant to set tone like this on purpose? Idk. This chapter has a vastly different vibe from the rest of the manga to me so I'm trying to refrain myself from being reactionary and impulsive like others. I'll wait for Public Enemy #1 (Gege) to continue the story instead lol, based on some context clues there's still a slight chance that this might be just another sick and twisted joke from that demonic cat. Hopefully. I wanna beat his ass though he'd better sleep with one eye open

i usually just read the chapter on sundays when it comes out (which is kinda funny bc i DO read the fan trans too haha). but im gonna be honest, im considering reading the scanlation earlier this time agdkdhskd. i'll see what i do dgfdgd

but well. even tho i havent seen the leaks i do know What Happens (there's quite literally no way to not know, it's everywhere). bc oh boy is it imploding. yesterday i decided to take a small peek into twitter and it was. on fire. i closed it immediately, i was not gonna deal with all that csjdhdjd. but my tumblr's been pretty peaceful! it's so easy to avoid things here if u have the tags filtered, tho even then, i just haven't gotten so much of it on my dash anyways

and about the last thing u say, from the little things i came across, i did see that there were mixed feelings about the chapter, but as i haven't actually seen the leaks i can't really comment. so yeah ill come back to give u a proper reply after ive read the chapter!! :D

AS FOR THE PATH TO INSANITY I STARTED READING IT YESTERDAY ACDJHDJSH. ive only read 2 chs but GDJDH EXTRA BRATTY TEEN GOJO WITH SUKUNA!!!!! lately I've just been so into specifically that, so yeah im enjoying it <3333

#f.ask #but yeah anon i am verymuch aware of what happens. thank u for the positive vibes im really gonna need them 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#truth is even yesterday. i was out of it. sure i haven't seen the leaks but just knowing that it happens. had me so gloomy and sad #i was on the verge of crying so many times just thinking about it 😭😭😭😭😭😭 but i stopped myself bc i decided to have a proper crying #session when i actually read it agdkdhsjfhjd #part of me starting to read TPTI was literally to distract myself and not think about 236 #bc even if i try not to. i just can't stop thinking about it #jjk leaks #jjk

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