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luvfy0dor · 1 year ago

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Henlo

You know who it is, we all know, henlo

I feel like I’ve been here a lot recently

Just starting off with saying I loved the Dazai piece. It was really cute. Dad Dazai trying his best, made my heart melty

But I think you know why I’m here today

On this day

Honestly the day doesn’t entirely matter but I’m here on THIS one

With the dad Fyodor thought I promised

Cuz here I was thinking to myself. I feel like Fyodor definitely wants his child or children having some connection to Russian culture, since that’s a part of them too, regardless of their other parent’s nationality or background, he definitely wants his included. (Tho his partner could totally do the same)

So I was wondering, would you like a piece of him either teaching his children Russian or making Russian food for them? Or really sharing any Russian cultural thing with them at all. Honestly whatever one is easier for you to write or go into detail with, they’re all equally cute.

Cuz if his child or children develop a connection to that, I feel like that would make him a lot happier than maybe he would fully show.

I hope this ask sparks the creative brain juices in a fun way

Also considering sending a Halloween themed request at some point idk… oh but who knows!We’re here rn and having fun with this, that’s all we need at the moment

Also real glad you enjoy my messages lol. I will absolutely keep sending. Take as long as you need

-the person here attempting to give everyone baby fever because it’s funny

This blog’s Dad Fyodor anon

"da!" - Dad!Fyodor x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Russian, not much reader involvement, very minimal proofreading happened

Description; Dad!Fyodor teaching his child about Russian culture! It incorporates ideas from the first dad!Fyodor part.

A/n; YESYESYES I one hundred percent agree, I think about this on the regular OMG I hope I depicted this well bc my knowledge on Russia isn't all that extensive lol, if you have any corrections, do tell me!! : ) Also I'm gonna be so fr I had NO idea what to name this so we're rolling with da I guess.............

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

★ He teaches his child/children classical Russian music when they're old enough to play more difficult pieces. Until then, he'll settle for twinkle twinkle little star.

★ Introduces his children to ballet.

★ His children have a variety of Russian-originating toys, such as Matryoshka/Russian nesting dolls, rocking horses etc.

★ Brings his children to Russia at least once, specifically to Moscow (irl Dostoevsky was raised in Moscow, so we're gonna assume BSD Dostoevsky was too) to experience the culture first hand.

★ Teaches his children the foundations of the Russian language. He would like them to fluently speak it one day, though.

★ Cooks Russian food for them like I mentioned and included in the first part.

★ They learn about Russian history from their father, anywhere from Peter the Great to fur trade and all that jazz

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

(as always, p/t is parental title, d/n is daughters name)

Your head leaned against your fist while you watched your husband and daughter focus on their current activity. D/n carefully picked the colors and pigments she would use to color in the white spaces on her paper, and Fyodor just tried to keep things inside the lines. You could see the little girls tongue slightly sticking out from between her lips in concentration, making you smile.

Your daughter went to pick her next color, chosing a pink crayon to fill in the nose of the cat. "Papa, what'd you say your hat was called again? The one you always wear." She clarifies, even though there was really only one hat that Fyodor would wear at all. His eyes don't leave his thin paper as he replies, "A ushanka, and it's from Russia, malyshka." He answered, pushing some of his hair out of his face and behind his ear. "Russia." She says, the sound not unfamiliar, but not common to her either. "Where's that?" She tilts her head upwards, putting her crayon down to signify her attention on her papa. He puts his down too and rests his arms on top of one another.

"Quite far, but it is in both Asia and Europe. That's how big it is, it stretches over two continents." He says, a smile on his face. Her eyes widen a little. "That is really big. Have you been there before?" Her head tilts and she shifts a bit in her seat. "I grew up there, in the city of Moscow." He says, happy with her clear interest in his motherland.

"We should go there for a vacation one day!" She says, a grin on her face. He laughs a little bit and nods. "I agree, we definetly should." He agrees, fantasizing about it in his head. "Is that why you talk like that?" She questions her fathers accent, skittering around the table and climbing onto his lap. He smiles gently and nods. "Yes, it's called an accent, malyshka. I learned English, but Russian is my mother tongue. There are a lot of different pronunciations for certain sounds in Russian." He tells her, his hands fidgeting with the young girls hair. He parts it into three sections and starts to braid it.

"Is everything different there?" Fyodor hums, thinking as he weaves her hair into a gorgeous French braid. "Well, it definitely very different, but I don't think I would say everything." He says. "There are more historical differences than anything, if I do say so myself." She hums in understanding. "Papa, can you teach me some Russian?" She asks, turning her head to look at him with puppy dog eyes, even though she really didn't need them. He smiled and nodded.

"What should I teach you?" He softly questions, looking into the young girls eyes. She thinks for a moment, tapping her pointer finger on her chin. "I don't know! Whatever you want." She says, just excited to hear another language. He chuckles softly. "я не знаю, что тебе сказать" (I don't know what to tell you) he responds, a small grin on his face. Her eyes widen, almost as if she never believed he could speak a different language. You giggle a bit at her reaction.

"What does that mean?!" She excitedly asks, her mind seemingly blown over this. "It simply means I don't know what to tell you." He speaks. "But I can tell you the simple stuff. Like 'да' means yes and 'нет' means no. Hello is 'привет' and goodbye is 'до свидания'."

The young girl takes a mental note of these words. "привет, papa! I think I said that right." She says. You proudly watch the scene go down. Fyodor gives you a similarly prideful smile. "Yes, you did wonderful, malyshka." He praises her, patting her shoulder. "I'll have to teach you more one day." She nods vigorously, very obviously wanting him to. "Yes! And then we can have secret conversations, no one else will know what we're saying!" She snickers, making him smile.

A/n; I hope this is alright!! I loved this request a whole lot. Oh, also, feel free to send in that Halloween request even though it's November now lol

"Oh, ofcourse. That will probably be rather far in the future, though." He says, removing her from his lap and gently patting her back. "That's okay. If I learn more I'll know more words." She states the obvious. "And I'm gonna learn from the best russian ever." She beams, making Fyodor grin. "That's right, sweetheart."

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charliegyrth · 2 months ago

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Alex Gets Soft - Part 7

My Tastes Have Changed

Read Part 6 here.

I woke up the next morning to Alex whimpering. He was standing on the scale.

It was a disappointed whimper.

“What’s wrong?”

“184,” he said. “I guess that’s my real starting weight.” He stepped off the scale and walked toward me. His belly was still swollen, but not as much as the night before.

“You look good,” I tried to encourage him.

“I know.” He placed his hands on his hips and pushed out his stomach a bit further. “Feel great, too.”

“Really? You’re not sluggish or…?”

“Nope.”

Today was the first Monday of the month, which was a busy day for both of us. I had a few Zoom meetings scheduled before noon and I think Alex had some spreadsheets he needed to work on.

We each had separate offices in our house so we wouldn’t distract each other. I fixed myself oatmeal for breakfast, but Alex made a pile of biscuits and gravy for himself. Even though he didn’t engage in any late-night snacking (can you imagine?), he still struggled to get everything down.

I wanted to remind him not to push himself too hard, but I didn’t. He knew his limits. At least, I hoped he did.

I washed our plates after he had licked everything clean. Neither of us needed to log in to work yet, so I figured I’d take my time getting ready and then scroll a bit through Instagram.

Alex stopped me before I got to the bathroom. “Babe, this is usually when I work out.”

“You never work out on Monday,” I corrected him.

“Well, after this weekend, I really want to. And since I can’t…” He looked at me with his typical cheeky grin. “Do you mind?”

“Fine.”

We went to the home gym. My arms and chest were still sore from the day before, so Alex guided me through how he would typically do his “leg day.” It wasn’t as enjoyable as “arm day,” but I was able to get through it.

Alex didn’t do as much snacking while I worked out, but he managed another box and a half of Girl Scout cookies. Tagalongs, the peanut butter ones. (Not sure where he found those. We hadn’t gotten them at Sam’s Club.)

When we were finished, I could barely walk. I felt like I was trudging through wet sand.

“Feels good, right?”

“Sure.”

He held his stomach. “Couldn’t agree more.”

I didn’t see him much after that. My Zoom meetings both went longer than expected, and my boss heaped on a bunch of extra tasks. (I had to fill in for our coworker on maternity leave.) When I tell people that I work online, they always assume that my job is stress-free. It’s not.

And with my full-body soreness from the workout, I felt pretty exhausted by lunch. I was also surprisingly hungry. Usually I only ate lunch to keep my energy up, but today, my mouth was watering and my stomach grumbled.

I sprang out of my seat and headed toward the kitchen, expecting Alex to already be there. He wasn’t. I knocked on his office door but he didn’t answer. “Alex?”

Still nothing.

I pushed the door open. He was hunched over his computer, headphones covering his ears. His fingers were typing away. He was still in work-mode, which wasn’t that surprising. What was surprising, though… The empty snack boxes that littered the floor.

I couldn’t believe it. Despite the hearty breakfast and more-than-hearty dinner last night, he’d managed to graze on an ungodly amount of snacks while he worked.

I tapped him on the shoulder and he jerked back in surprise. His work shirt strained against his stomach. He started choking on whatever chocolatey thing was in his crumb-stained mouth. “Babe, why’d you scare me?”

“Sorry. It’s…”

“It’s lunch time!” he said, hoisting himself out of his chair and pushing past me to the kitchen.

His headphones were still playing. Curious, I picked them up and held them to my ear. Usually, he listened to 80s rock when he worked. But this time, he wasn’t listening to music at all. It was just a man’s steady ASMR voice.

“You’re hungry,” the voice said hypnotically. “You’re a bottomless well, always wanting more. Always demanding food.”

What the hell was that?

I picked up all the empty snack boxes and wiped the crumbs off his table. Then I headed back to the kitchen. Alex was rifling through the fridge.

I couldn’t stop myself this time. I had to say something. “Babe, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep gorging like this.”

He didn’t look up. “I know, but no pain, no gain, right?”

“Are you in pain?”

His silence was all the answer I needed.

“Look, this is Day 3. You’re going to burn out.”

“Yeah. That’s why I was listening to Charlie Gyrth.” He didn’t say who Charlie Gyrth was, but I knew it was that voice playing on his headphones. Some hunger-hypnosis thing. “Besides, snacks don’t count. I need solid food if I’m gonna concentrate for the rest of the day.”

I didn’t know how his stomach could manage everything that he was shoving into it. Sure, he had a ridiculous metabolism. But if I had eaten even a third of what he had this morning, I would’ve passed out or thrown up. Maybe both.

He pulled out a meat and cheese platter from the fridge and brought it over to the table. The sight of it made my stomach growl. I grabbed a slice of salami and let it slide down my throat. God, that tasted good.

“Oh,” he said as he sat across from me. “You wanna share?” He seriously thought that this entire platter was his.

“So how was work?” I wanted to have a normal, non-food-related conversation with him for once.

“Good,” he said, chewing. “Oh! I forgot something!” He sprang out of his chair and came back with a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise. “Gotta keep it messy, right?” he said with a grin.

He ate each slice of cheese and meat with a big dollop of mayo. He didn’t get much on his face this time, but a few drops stained his work shirt.

Since he wasn’t going to tell me about his work, I told him about mine. As we ate together, I filled him in on our latest projects, and all the extra responsibilities I had to take over. He was listening, and he asked me a couple questions, but he kept eating.

I did, too.

Pretty soon, the platter was finished. So was the bottle of mayonnaise. While most of the food went into Alex’s straining gut, I finished about a third of the meat myself. That surprised me.

He looked at the empty tray. “Wow, babe. You worked up an appetite, too. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. The thought gave me chills. It was so easy to overeat when I was sitting across from the bottomless pit that was my boyfriend. I had to be more mindful next time.

He saw that my water bottle was empty. “Thirsty?”

“A little.”

He grunted as he stood. Still surprisingly energetic, he refilled my bottle with water from the tap and brought back a thermos for himself. I assumed it was filled with the same pink drink as before, but I didn’t ask. Didn’t want to know.

The cold cuts had left me pretty thirsty, so I chugged down my water.

Alex, his eyes locked on me, chugged his drink at a matching speed. He had no more room in his stomach for the thick liquid, but he wouldn’t stop until I did. I didn’t really want to drink the whole bottle, but I did anyway. We finished together.

I didn’t feel any muscle soreness for the rest of the day. Maybe that was a side effect of my lunch. I felt pretty great, actually. My afternoon work sped by, and I was able to accomplish more in three hours than I normally did all day.

By six, I logged out and headed into the living room. Alex was lying on the couch, snoring. The food had finally caught up with him.

I snuggled up next to him, leaning against his wide shoulders and gently rubbing his stomach until he snorted awake.

“Babe, I think I overdid it.”

I wanted to say, “I told you so,” but instead, I said, “You want to skip dinner tonight?”

He looked up at me and whimpered. It was cute but a little pitiful, too. I felt sorry for my big man.

We sat together on the couch. His body radiated heat. It reminded me of last month, when he’d gotten the flu and I had to take care of him. But this time, he’d made himself sick. I put on the latest episode of Drag Race (my choice, not his) and we watched in silence.

I continued rubbing his belly for a while, but my hand got tired. When I pulled away, he grabbed my wrist. He wanted my hand to stay on his belly. I obliged, feeling its gentle rise and fall as he once again drifted off to sleep.

Since I was still in charge of the remote (a rare occurrence in our house), I put on a romcom. It wasn’t good (few romcoms are), and Alex snored through most of it, but it was… pleasant. The male lead had plenty of shirtless scenes, and his ripped body reminded me a lot of Alex.

The former Alex, I had to tell myself. The Alex that we were leaving behind.

I’d seen that actor before. Don’t remember his name. And I always used to find him impossibly hot, but as the movie continued, I kept thinking that something was wrong. He should grow a belly. A rock-hard beer gut to replace those defined muscles. He’d look so much better without those abs.

I guess that was the moment I realized that my taste in men had forever changed.

And I was okay with that.

Read Part 8 here. You can also read all 22 parts of Alex Gets Soft in one ebook (with a bonus story). You can find all my stories here.

#gainerfiction #male wg #gainer fiction #gainerstory #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer stories #feeder fiction #gay feeder #gay feedee

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prettywordsyouleft · 1 year ago

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Every Damn Time

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: emotional angst-fluff

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: mentioning of declining health of side character, main protagonist is expressing their fears over it.

Word count: 659

Author’s Note: I wrote this back in January, when this situation happened to calm myself down from the fright of it all. Naturally, this piece is a little personal.

Jinyoung barely had a moment to react, and yet he did so instinctively. Catching you before you knocked both of you to the ground, he went to laugh and asked why you were so greedy for his embrace, only to stop himself when he felt your body shudder.

Instantly, he was on red alert. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Need you,” came out with a choked sob, and Jinyoung rearranged his hold on you.

He pulled you firmly against him, caging your shaking body so you felt protected and safe. And that was enough to unleash your emotions. It killed him to have no clue why you had entered his home and ran to him like this. He wanted to rage in your honour, ask who did this to you, uncover every little detail so he could put together a plan. So he could be the one to solve this and never let it make you break like this again.

But as he continued to hold you, rocking your body and letting out soothing noises, his mind came down from the height it had gone to.

Jinyoung had been working late yesterday and into the early hours of today, which wasn’t unusual for him, and he had almost sent you a message out of habit but realised the time was late. He remembered frowning when he had seen your last active time stamp to be after one am, yet he considered you probably had struggled to sleep and then fallen into slumber eventually.

But now he wasn’t so sure. What had kept you up so late into the night? He had his suspicions, and you finally confirmed them a moment later. “She fell.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. I was in bed and woke to a loud bang. I thought it was one of the cats and went to check, but the TV had crashed into the wall and she was completely dazed,” you said quietly, not objecting when Jinyoung gently led you to the couch and pressed you down until you sat before he crouched down in front of you.

“She’s completely fine, well, a few bruises are going to come up, but I was just so scared. I keep having these moments where I get complacent with Mum’s illness and then she declines and something like this happens and I just—” Tears welled in your eyes and he reached forward to brush them aside, your watery gaze connecting with his. “It’s only going to get worse.”

“With time. Your mother has plenty of time still.”

“I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I could barely sleep worrying something would happen as she rested. I’ve made plans to move my things out to the study nook so I can be right there if she needs me. I’m going to have to monitor her closely. It all feels so overwhelming.”

“You should have rung me. I would have come over immediately. “

You sighed, nodding softly. “I wanted you there.”

“You needed me,” he corrected, and you nodded a second time.

“I always need you. I worry the strain I’m holding will end up breaking you when I lean on you.”

Slapping a shoulder, Jinyoung cracked a grin. “Why do you think I built these up?”

It delighted him when a small, exasperated smile curled up your lips. “You fool.”

“You need me at any time of the day or night, and you know I’ll be there.”

“Really?”

“What are boyfriends for if they can’t promise that?”

“To look pretty and carry heavy things?” You pretended to ponder, and Jinyoung tsked loudly before reaching for your hands, rubbing the coolness out of them.

“I don’t ever want to let you stress to the point of crashing into me like that again. But if it does happen, I’ll catch you, okay?”

“You’ll catch me?” you repeated, eyes wide with emotion.

His throat felt tight as he nodded. “Every damn time.”

_________________

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #park jinyoung fiction #park jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung scenarios #park jinyoung fluff #park jinyoung au #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung fiction #jinyoung fluff #got7 fiction #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #kpop fiction #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #prettywordsyouleft

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godhandler · 5 months ago

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choso x geto!kenjaku, cult leader and altar boy, dead dove do not eat, d/s relationship, smut, part 1, choso doesn't know that geto is actually his father kenjaku, prolly my best work yet ngl

Choso lay birthed. It was the second time he’d done so, and he wasn’t any happier this time around either. The foetid water of his mother’s womb dripped from his toes.

He was pulled to his wobbly feet by Mahito, gentle palm on gentler palm, his toes wetly squishing against the floor with every baby step he took. Mahito taught him to walk, to speak, to eat.

It was harder than Choso had ever assumed: each finger and each leg and each eye had to move in tandem all the time. Even harder was the next step of development, socialisation. Now that he could speak, he had to learn the correct things to speak: the correct expression that went along with the words. Happiness– mouth spread upwards into a smile, eyes crinkled, “Yay!”. Sorrow– mouth downwards, tears in eyes, shaking head.

Sometimes Mahito joked that he was Choso’s father, but that didn’t go down very well, so he stopped saying that. Mahito was simply that, “Mahito”. A fellow curse, a really good one, looked out for him and helped as much as he could. Fun-loving. Selfless. Introduced him to other curses as well, the first friends he ever had.

Hanami was delightful, Jogo gave him good advice, and Dagon was truly adorable. They found it very funny that Choso was technically the eldest of them all. They all used to play football together in the evenings.

It was okay. Things were okay. His brothers were okay.

Choso should’ve been happy with that. ‘Okay’ is a perfectly good thing to be. But Choso, created to surpass the human constraints, the best of his kind, Choso, my beloved, he could never have stayed away too long. Sooner or later he would have ended up here. Perhaps the tragedy was how soon it was. He could have had a few months more.

My son. Geto-sama was always soft-voiced. Come to me.

—------------------

Choso could never tell when he was bad.

Even now, tears in his eyes and whip in hand, he could not understand why he was being punished. I’m sorry, his lips trembled, forgive me, my lord.

Mercurial, almost bipolar–Geto-sama would never just ‘get angry’. No, he’d fly into a terrible rage, he’d kill and torture, he’d curse whole bloodlines. He was equally benevolent when the mood struck, but at the end of the day that was that– his emotions only manifested in the extremes. And oh how he despised the very sight of Choso right now.

Scum of the earth! He called him, rotten waste of your mother’s womb! Even now, you insolent idiot, you talk back to me!

I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Choso lifted his hand to strike Geto-sama, who knelt at the floor stripped naked but for the whip-cuts. Don’t make me hurt you again, please, my lord, I don’t want to. I’m sorry.

You think you deserve forgiveness? Getting too big for your britches? Geto-sama, mid-moan as another lash fell on his thigh, inches away from grazing his rock-hard cock, managed to spit acid out in every syllable. You think you know better than me?

Choso struck another blow on Geto-sama, watching him shiver in pleasure. He was a cruel master, Choso knew, but such was religion. A father knows the right way to discipline his son: Choso would happily take a thousand whippings if he believed he deserved it. But no way could ever rationalise away the pain of hurting his loved ones.

Hence sat Geto-sama’s skin tearing under the lashes, but the only one clutching at his hair and crying was Choso. The holy man was having the time of his life.

Harder, you fool. Useless creature.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Choso wept into his rope-burnt palm, Master, may I whip myself too?

Geto-sama climaxed onto his thighs, shuddering and laughing, semen mixing with blood dripping into the tatami flooring. Brother-seed, he’d taught Choso it was called. Taught him to crawl like a dog and lap it off the floor, to say thank you and mean it.

There was something romantic about it all, as per Kenjaku. Oedipus and Antigone rolled into one.

Damn shame none of the Death Paintings turned out female. He’d really wanted to fuck a baby into one, see if it took, see how many generations it took to flush the cursed spirit gene out with his own. Daughter, granddaughter, great-granddaughter– each with greater Kenjaku than the last. Scientific hobbies to pass his eternal life.

Did I please you, Master? Choso, eyes still watery and tongue bitter with cum, poor baby. The appeased Geto-sama’s mood swung hard the other way. He lounged back, away from the sticky puddle that Choso licked clean, already healing himself up.

Plenty, my son. My favourite.

—-----------------

Geto-sama’s doctrine was of austerity. When he first came to the temple, Choso was granted a robe, a beggar’s bowl, two towels and a shower caddy (soap, shampoo, detergent, razorblade)– and that was all personal items he received. The rest consisted of texts: a set of general instructions that the people living in the temple followed, a copy of the Dhammapada explaining the Noble Eightfold Path, the Lotus Sutra, a children’ comic book of The Jataka Tales, a journal, and a list of banned items.

Keep off unnecessary temptation and false ideals, Manami explained to Choso. No pornography, no English books (those are all American propaganda), no newspapers, no unapproved books on history, politics, economics, no heresy, no mobile phones or internet connection except on the temple-issued computers, no “unkind” words.

Geto-sama would always maintain that it was the choice of his disciples to either accept all his rules, or to not be a disciple at all. He respected consent. Besides, true devotion only comes from willingness.

But there was never a dip in followers’ enrollment, undeterred by the constricting rules, for his pulpit stood true. Of all men in Japan, only Geto-sama’s disciples (as long as they remained loyal) never suffered from curses.

A divine stamp of my preaching, Geto-sama would proclaim.

The divine being me, he left out. For now.

Choso was given the task of washing Geto-sama’s feet 5 times a day. The monk was a stickler for cleanliness to the point of OCD; Choso had been yelled at many times when he missed a spot. Choso’s fingers rubbed tallow-fat soap between his holy toes, dried them with his own robes and massaged lavender oil. Whenever Choso caught a glimpse of Geto-sama’s soles, soft and pink as a deer calf’s tongue, he felt immensely proud of his achievements.

It felt good. It felt human.

The water used to clean his feet was collected and offered to his disciples. Many believed drinking it would keep disease away.

Sometimes Geto-sama’s feet came back caked in blood that steeped through his socks. Choso scrubbed extra hard on those days.

—----------------------------

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whiteheartlight · 10 months ago

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hey I wrote a fic while my internet was down about the world's grumpiest Toa while he and the others were traveling back to Mata Nui with the Matoran. please let me know if you enjoy. Onewa is such a bastard. but a bastard with nuance?? I've always thought he and Vakama should get to talk after the Visorak arc

It would actually be pretty cool, Onewa thinks, if Nuju didn't manage to concuss himself so bad while he did it.

He was up there where he needed to be, that's the thing. And Onewa's not afraid of heights like Whenua is, but when that bird smashed through the window of their airship and tried its damnedest to get Vakama by the waist, Onewa did think to himself, for a moment: I'm a Toa of Stone. Maybe the others should handle this.

Nuju might have intuited that thought, or maybe he had just been itching for some action after being stuck on a ship with the rest of them for weeks on end, but one way or another, he pulled out those ice spikes and practically leapt out the window to go after that over-sized set of knives on wings.

“Can't we just let the poor thing go?” Whenua had called, clinging queasily to a nearby support pole as the wind rocked over him. “It was probably hungry!”

“So it gets to eat Vakama?” Matau replied. “Or do you think it needs two of us?”

“If we let it go it could go after the Matoran spheres,” Vakama called over the wind. “We need to at least knock it out of the sky!”

“I'll handle the draft it's riding!” Matau shouted, leaping out the window and spreading his wings. He dipped hard before he caught the wind and came back up towards the bird, one hand curving through the air as he redirected the draft.

Unfortunately, he didn't redirect himself to avoid it. The bird panicked at the sudden change, flapping hard to try and course-correct, and Onewa heard Matau go “oh, whoops” before a metal wing was slicing towards his own. Matau disengaged his wings to avoid the blow, and he instantly started to plummet.

Onewa grabbed him neatly by the back of the armor from the side of the ship.

“Can you watch it, Matau?” he snarled at him. “What a stupid fucking stupid way to die that would have been.”

“Aw, were you worried?” asked Matau, making a fake pout.

“There would have been a whole village of Matoran with no one around because you weren't paying attention. Do you even care about that?”

“Spirits, Onewa, I would have quick-caught myself. Don't be a stuck crab about everything.”

“You two both focus!” Vakama called sharply, and Onewa swore before hauling Matau back in to safety. The bird swooped past them again, enormous talons reaching for either one of them before it darted back out again. He probably did need to focus, but honestly, in that moment, he felt so angry he could scream.

Look, it's not just been this, okay? Ever since Vakama got back from his stupid fucking solo trip that he still won't even tell them about, the others have been wearing on his nerves like they're getting paid good widgets to do so. He doesn't even really know why. They're just all... the same. They're all the same beings they always were. Weren't they supposed to change over time? Not just Vakama putting his shadows to rest, or Matau toning down the sarcasm, or whatever you want to call what any of them have been through. Wasn't there supposed to be a moment where he looked around and realized that they were all – you know – professionals?

Aren't they supposed to feel like real Toa?

Instead they're here, on a busted old airship, trying to caravan a pack of comatose Matoran across unexplored waters because they couldn't save their real homeland. It seemed to strike him in the chest for a second, as the shadow of the bird's wings passed over him. No matter how many times he thinks it, it always punches him. He always thinks to himself Lhikan expected more from us.

He was thinking it again when Nuju distracted him by finding his footing along the side of the ship. Onewa couldn't even see what support beam or structuring he was standing on, but, with his ice spikes in the side of the ship's metal to steady him, Nuju got up.

“Oh, wow, he's up there,” said Whenua, and then promptly covered his eyes with his hands. “Be careful!”

“Matau, be ready to catch him if he falls,” Vakama ordered, and Matau bounded back into the sky. Nokama had a selection of clouds pouring down a fence of rain, bringing the predator bird towards Nuju, there on his feet, and he pulled an arm free, striking it through the air like he was giving a command. Onewa saw the light catch brilliantly on the heavy ice that formed along the creature's wings, sending it swerving, shrieking, and then falling. It came close to Nuju, who leapt away gracefully, back towards the entrance of the ship –

And, in one unfortunate push from the bird's spiraling wing, cracked his head hard against the edge of the open window.

“Oh!” groaned both Whenua and Nokama at the same time, everyone shifting towards Nuju in a collective alarm. Vakama grabbed Nuju's shoulders from the front while Matau swooped back inside to grab him from behind. He was only limp for a second or two, a white hand staggering up to grab at his head, but they had all heard that metal clunk of his cerebral casing connecting solidly with the harsh edge.

“Is it cracked?” asked Onewa tersely, coming to stand at Vakama's shoulder, hand out-stretched with nothing to do. Vakama was looking at Nuju's casing with a forger's eye, searching for any fractures.

“I don't think so. It'll be the inside we should worry about. Nuju, you need to sit down.”

Nuju was trying to get onto his feet without needing support, but not having much luck at it.

“I'm fine,” he snapped, voice shaky. “I handled it.”

The attitude is what's really getting Onewa mad, now that they're all here, crowded around Nuju. Onewa scoffs, shaking his head at him. “Seriously? You could have fallen too. We couldn't have just handled that from inside the ship? A couple ice darts wouldn't have taken it down the same? Oh, you were just aching for a fight.”

“Onewa,” warns Nokama, trying to get Nuju to at least lean back on them. “Not now.”

“Don't worry, sister, I think the odds of him remembering any part of today are pretty slim after our resident genius's latest idea.”

“Nuju, sit down,” Vakama insists, pulling his shoulders. Nuju's being such a pain. Is this how Toa act?

“I don't want you all touching me!”

“We're trying to stop you from falling. Let us get you checked over and then we will all back off, I promise.”

Nuju grabs at his mask again, groaning, but he doesn't let them lower him. He grips at the wall and then shoves Matau's arm off him. “Brother, just one second,” Nokama's telling him gently. “You're okay, we've got you.”

“I'm fine, get off!”

“Oh, by the spirits, Nuju,” Onewa hisses, something molten rising up in him. “Just sit down and shut up.”

Nuju's legs give out from under him so fast he nearly smacks his head a second time, but Matau scoops him up with a yelp. Pale blue eyes pierce Onewa with a fury that needs no words, but as his mouth fails to glow, Onewa realizes he can't talk.

Something races down his spine. He didn't mean to command him like that. Or maybe he did – the intention was there, it has to be, for his mask to work, but he didn't mean –

Nokama grabs Nuju's wrist before his hand can come up to strike back with ice. He grabs her wrist in return, mask contorting, but then something goes blank in his eyes and he sways, just trying to breathe. He hit his head hard.

“Onewa, go cool off,” Vakama orders shortly.

Oh, yeah, of course the Fire Toa's going to handle this. Their fearless leader.

Onewa scoffs and turns his back on his siblings, feeling four sets of eyes on him as he goes.

He shouldn't have done that. But this is it. This is... this is destiny, he supposes.

It doesn't feel right in his chest. Nothing has for weeks.

“You come to kill me, ice-weaver?”

Onewa's adjusting the shape of his whetstone carefully in his hand, its form shifting like water beneath his fingers, when he hears the steps approaching him.

Honestly, he's impressed Nuju knows about his little hiding spot. At the back of the landing bay, on the bottom of the ship, the tow cord stretches out towards the airships connected to their own. The windows around it are meant to allow Matoran to check that the cord is intact and undamaged, but it also makes a nice viewpoint. The other ships bob along through the air behind them, and at this time of evening, the sun comes through everything like its trying to cram the light inside. He likes the white noise of the nearest blade spinning through the air too – whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, low and heavy.

“Nokama's trying to talk him down,” comes a voice that isn't Nuju's. “He was more sullen than angry. I think he's embarrassed. It wasn't very kind of you.”

Onewa turns to level Vakama with a look, taking in the sight of him crouching to meet Onewa's gaze, still outside the bubble of the tow cord area, which is not tall enough for a Toa to stand in. Onewa shakes his head and pulls out his proto pitons, setting them on his lap.

“There's no difference between embarrassed and angry for a Ko-Matoran. He'll have his revenge, and I'll take it. End of story.”

“You lost your temper with him.”

“My real punishment is right now. Nokama really knew who to send to give me the most grief, didn't she?”

“She didn't send me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, you know she's focused on Nuju right now.”

Onewa snorts. Okay, that's fair. She takes care of all of them in a lot of ways – probably more than she should – but she does pick favorites sometimes. He doesn't care, though. He doesn't want her coddling and he loves his sister no matter who she's standing up for.

“Look, Onewa,” Vakama says, taking in a deep breath. “I understand entirely that you have extra doubts about everything since what I did with the Visorak, but – ”

“Can it,” Onewa cuts him off, curving his whetstone along the underside blade of his piton. He loves that slide of protodermis on stone. “If you could get out of your head for more than five seconds you'd remember that I'm not treating you any differently than I always have. Honestly, that whole drunk-on-power shtick might be the most interesting thing you ever did in your life. No more big sad eyes. Just bright red rage.”

Vakama scowls at him. “It was monstrous.”

“I can't tell you how little I care about your pity party. Seriously, if I tried to find the words – ”

“Alright, alright,” Vakama sighs, sitting down beside him. “Well, you're certainly treating the others differently.”

Onewa examines his piton in the light. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure,” Vakama answers flatly. “Onewa, one way or another, couldn't we try getting off on a better foot? All of us?”

Onewa finds that pretty funny. “A tiny bit late to be asking, don't you think?”

“Now's the time. We're going somewhere new. Leaving old enemies behind. Old shadows. Speaking for myself, I can acknowledge I'm in a much better headspace to be...”

“Less aggravating?”

Vakama pins him with a look. “Whatever you need me to be.”

“How noble.”

“Onewa. You controlled Nuju today. He's going to have your head. You can't be treating the others like that. I don't know why you'd choose Nuju of all people to pick on, but whatever I need to do to help you – ”

“Did you ever meet Toa Rooka?” Onewa asks.

Vakama stops short, evidently turning this change of topic over in his head. “No,” he replies. “Saw him from afar, you know how it would go. Rooka, of course, was – ”

“Larger than life?”

“In a number of ways,” Vakama agrees. When Onewa doesn't answer, he presses on. “You knew Rooka?”

“I saw Rooka die,” Onewa says.

Vakama goes quiet. “I didn't know that.”

Onewa nods at nothing, frowning out the window.

“How did it happen?” Vakama prompts him.

Yeah, he still remembers that answer in vivid detail, no matter how the years pass. Onewa presses his thumb hard into his wrist, below his vambrace. “Dark Hunters. Long before Nidhiki started crawling around or anything, just... the war, or its remnants. I was out in the fields where the fighting had happened, part of a search and rescue thing that the Mangai were leading. All the Hunters were supposed to have cleared out, but... I wandered onto them. Had my carver's tool in my hand. I remember coming over this crest and seeing him there, more gold than brown in the sun like he was. They put an axe through most of his throat, and the ichor sprayed like crazy. He didn't make any noise or anything. I think I said his name, so I'm lucky they didn't hear me. Or maybe I said 'Toa.' I think I just said 'Toa.'”

Onewa shifts in place and shrugs. “Anyway, some of the others must have been patrolling with him, because Naho and Lhikan were already looking for him before he was gone. I didn't go fetch them or anything, but they saw me sitting on top of the rocks, watching. Naho started cleaning up Rooks, and Lhikan came and got me. He picked me up – and you can imagine how much I would tolerate that normally, but I let him that day – and he took me home. Checked on me, afterwards, and then, he just never stopped checking on me.”

He can see the second Vakama becomes tempted to cut in with some anecdote about how Lhikan was always so caring like that, wasn't he, and Onewa cuts him off sharply.

“So I'm saying you aren't the only one who lost him, Vakama.”

“I never said I was,” Vakama shoots back, with a little of that Fire Toa heat.

“Yeah? You act like it sometimes. Now you know. And whatever, okay, you were stuck in your head, that's fine. But if you could stop acting like this is the fire-spitter show for two minutes, it would help me out, thanks very much.”

“It's always something I'm doing wrong, isn't it?”

“And here we go, right on schedule.” They glare at each other for a second before Vakama reels himself in, puffing out this hot, annoyed breath and crossing his arms over chest.

“So, what? You're saying you're just grieving, then, and that has you tearing into Nuju for no reason?”

“First of all, the reason was that he's insufferable. But no, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying – it's been on my mind – I just thought you should know that I miss him too.”

“Oh.”

Onewa twists his vambrace around unhappily. “Yeah, fucking 'oh.' And I know that I've been an ass too. And now there's a lot to adjust to, and I don't know, Vakama. I only ever started following you to whatever degree I did – or sticking with any of the five of you – because I thought it's what he would want. But now look at us. Are we really getting anywhere? I'm supposed to believe we can lead a whole society of Matoran now? I don't understand why he picked us. Any of us, sometimes. But I loved him too.”

Vakama sighs and spreads his hands in an open gesture. “I know you did, Onewa. I know you're not actually... I don't know. Unkind.”

Onewa scoffs, shaking his head. “Really? How would you know that?”

Vakama frowns. “Well, I know you're not.”

“And you're so sure?”

“Yes,” says Vakama simply.

Onewa drops his hands into his lap, frowning back at him.

“Onewa,” says Vakama. “I would rather be your brother than your enemy. We all would.”

“So you're asking me to start being nicer and then we're good?”

“I'm asking you to follow me,” Vakama replies, which is pretty fucking bold, considering what they were just talking about.

“Why should it be you?” Onewa asks. “What have you ever done to deserve my loyalty? Two weeks ago you ran off on your own back to Metru Nui! Why would it ever be you?”

“Are you so opposed to it?”

He's not, Onewa realizes, turning irritably back to his other piton. No. He thinks Vakama could do it, actually. He saw him there at the end of the Visorak, coming back to them as himself, somebody upright and certain, if worn. He saw a leader.

“Maybe you're just not used to following, to being part of a team,” says Vakama, softer. “Which is fine. But here we are, Onewa. You're looking at your future and realizing we're all going to need to be leaders, together. We're going to need to be united. And not just to save our own tails when trouble comes, but because...”

His hand moves towards the other ship in the sky behind them, and Onewa stares out at it. He knows. There are hundreds of Matoran there who will need all six of them. United. There are Matoran who might need someone to carry them somewhere safe, and then to look after them. And that's him, somehow, him and these others. Because Toa Rooka and Toa Lhikan and the others are all gone, and Onewa and these five beings here with him – they're what's left. No other options, not anymore. Onewa and his brothers and sister.

“Deep down, I think that starts your heartlight flashing in a way you're not used to,” Vakama continues. “So maybe instead of telling us you're nervous, or scared – ”

“Watch it, fire-spitter.”

“ – you lash out. But Onewa, the reason that it should be me – just so we're all on the same tablet – is because that's the leader the others chose. And I have not done anything to deserve that. In fact, I've done plenty to be banished from your sights forever. But here we are. Call it destiny, or Lhikan's hope for us, or even say it's only because this is the fire-spitter show, I don't care. Here we are. I never want to be five minutes late to helping you because you didn't call for me, Onewa. I want to be your brother. I'm asking that you fall in line at my side – and all of our sides – and start accepting what we are now stepping into.”

“Well.” Onewa looks down at his pitons again, touching the cold metal for a second. “Maybe I don't know how to do that.”

Vakama hums at him. “I think you do.”

Say what you want about Vakama, but truthfully, this is that Fire Toa bravery they always talk about coming out to play, because in that moment, he has the nerves to put his stupid fucking hand on Onewa's shoulder.

“By the way,” Vakama adds, as he claps his armor and then starts to rise. “You're more gold than brown in the sun, too. Think I know where you got that from. I can't be Lhikan, but I'd be happy to check on you instead. Whatever happens, you won't be alone. We all want to be in this with you, no matter what comes next. Believe it or not, brother, but... we have your back.”

Onewa covers his mask for a second, sucking in a deep breath.

“This is real, huh? This... I'm really stuck with all five of you forever. Lhikan's really dead. It's the five of us. Mata Nui. You lot are stuck with me!”

He can grasp that Vakama's trying to be a cool and collected leader who came to give him words of wisdom, but really, when he breaks and start cracking up... Onewa thinks it's a good sound. Been a long fucking time since he heard Vakama laugh like that, bent over himself and covering his mouth. Or maybe never. Maybe he never knew Vakama when he was full of laughter. He shakes his head and turns away from his brother.

“I have your back too,” Onewa says. “At the end of the day, at least.”

“Yes,” Vakama says, smiling at him. “I know that. I'll see you later, Onewa.”

Then he's gone. Self-righteous forger.

Onewa looks back at the other ship again, the spheres that hold his people gleaming just a few bio away, and he's no tower-loving Ko-Matoran with a penchant for star-gazing of any kind, but in that moment, well... when he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine, he thinks he sees the future.

Yeah, Nuju's going to kick his ass. But there will be good things too. And bad things. And mistakes. And triumphs. The six of them will navigate it together.

He knows what Vakama means to do before he does it.

Maybe Onewa always knew it would be the price. He doesn't know how any part of him was ready for this, but somehow, he is. He sees Vakama reaching out his hand, and he doesn't feel scared. He isn't surprised. He's ready.

Vakama touches the Matoran sphere. A light begins to change him. When it's done, he's not Toa Vakama anymore, and Onewa feels the others staring at him and the spheres in silence. Onewa steps up beside him. He puts his hand on the next sphere over.

thanks for reading <3

#bionicle #onewa #vakama #white light writes #oh yeah and i ignored Nuju's clicking because the retcon is DUMB there i said it

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t0ast-ghost · 10 months ago

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Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

#star trek #star trek v: the final frontier #james t kirk #captain james kirk #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #leonard bones mccoy #doctor mccoy #sybok #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #montgomery scott

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horangboosadan · 1 year ago

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ROCK WITH YOU [8/10]

episode eight: so let me listen to all your emotions

pairing: idol!lee chan x gender neutral!actor!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!jun, actor au, smau, on screen lovers off screen besties, intentional lowercase

synopsis: after the release of your most recent drama, the world decides that you and your co-star/best friend would be the perfect couple. the influx of positive reactions are great for your career, his career, and the drama. however, it tears at you to lie to your fans and appear dishonest towards your boyfriend. being a k-pop idol, revealing your relationship can come with unforeseen consequences. how do you tackle the onslaught of people who want the inside scoop of you and your co-star, and your boyfriend in denial about his jealousy without compromising either relationship?

wc: 2.1k

masterlist

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the sound of the code being punched and the melody that sings when it's correct jolts you out of your half-sleep state. the creak of the door opening and the click of it closing has you shake your head. the soft footsteps making their way in your direction has your brain hurt as your mind filters through a million thoughts that have so far kept you from sleeping since you came home.

maybe it’s for the better―you get a chance for your circadian rhythm to adapt back to where it’s supposed to be.

“i brought food,” says chan as he enters the living room. he smiles; a huge grin that seems to lighten every load on your shoulders and clear your mind of whatever fears were coursing through it. the grin stays all the way over to the couch, only disappearing as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” you return his smile. “and i love you for bringing food because i haven’t really eaten anything all day.”

he sets the bag of food on the coffee table and seats himself next to you on the couch. “thought so. i wasn’t sure you’d even be awake.”

“somehow, i was too exhausted to even sleep,” you say. you’re half joking, but you’re aware of the slight nervousness in your voice. chan usually picks up on it, but you’re not sure if he’ll chalk it up to exhaustion or realize that there is something on your mind keeping you from resting.

“then we eat and go to sleep. we both need it.” he kisses you, and starts to take the food out of the bag.

your heart hammers in its cage. there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind telling you there isn’t anything to worry about, that you’ve been seeing things in his messages because you want to, because you know you won’t stand up for your own discomfort when it comes to the whole leaning into a romantic interest in jun. however, the moment chan says anything, you’ll do something. maybe seungkwan and vernon were wrong.

yet, there’s that pit in your stomach that keeps telling you that chan isn’t his normal self. his unusual long time in answering texts, his lack of trying to find time to actually talk after your first week away, his short answers, and his sudden lack of emojis whenever he said ‘i love you’ or ‘i miss you’. a part of you wants to tell yourself your just reading into it, that your exhaustion is taking over, but your gut says differently.

you’ve always trusted your gut.

“tell me about your trip,” says chan as he hands you a pair of chopsticks, already broken apart and ready to use.

you shake your head. “hmm, it was nice. a lot of bad weather, but that was the reason we shot there in the first place, apparently. the cast is nice, the crew was nice, and everything went very smoothly, but mostly i couldn’t enjoy myself due to a lack of sleep and breaks. i had a few on set, but my role is big enough that i didn’t have as much time to sit down as i wanted to.” you stop talking by starting to eat, figuring it can be a good excuse to not say anything else.

chan doesn’t say anything, but he’s looking intently at you. his gaze makes you feel loved, but it also feels piercing, as if he can see right through you. see your worries. see your exhaustion. “eat up, okay? you look like you need a good nights sleep.”

“thanks for the compliment," you say and huff jokingly.

“i didn’t mean it like that!” he says quickly. he takes your free hand with his and uses his thumb to caress the back of your hand. “you always look good, okay?”

you pout and look down. you both know it’s an act, but you like doing it. you like having him dote on you, which is exactly what he proceeds to do as he cups your face with both hands and lifts your head so you look at him. “you’re the most gorgeous, beautifulest, prettiest, handsomest, whatever adjective you want, person in the world.” with each adjective, he presses a kiss to your lips, and he continues after until you stop pouting and your lips draw into a smile.

“and even more so when you smile,” he adds and kisses you again.

it helps. it helps you regain energy, and it helps some of those worries slip away. whatever this jealousy thing is―if vernon is correct―you know that you’re not going to lose chan because of it.

all the tension in your veins seeps out. the thought of how much chan loves you, of how much you love him, fills them with warmth instead. a soft, cuddly warmth that doubles when chan puts an arm around you and drags you into his side.

you eat like that for a while, snuggled up together. chan feeds you bites of food, and you’re pretty sure you’re gonna fall asleep. however, as the food runs out, your worries haven’t disappeared enough for you to let go of them.

“i’ll clean up, okay? just get ready for bed and i’ll see you in there.” chan lets go of you. the warmth of his arm disappears and he gets up to start gathering the trash.

he doesn’t get far before you grab his hand and pull him back down onto the couch. “not yet,” you say.

chan laughs and pulls you in for a hug. “you missed me that much?”

you lightly punch at him, not letting go of the hug as you nod. maybe you are holding him back for another reason, but you did really miss him that much. so much you don’t want to let go of him, so much that you couldn’t be happier with the knowledge that you have all of tomorrow to spend together.

“yeah, i did,” you say as you pull out of the hug, “but there is something else.”

chan cocks his head. “something’s wrong?”

you grimace and shrug. “i don’t know.” the words won’t come. you don’t want to startle him, to scare him, to have him withdraw because he doesn’t want to discuss it. what if seungkwan’s right and he feels stupid for his feelings and therefore won’t talk about them? but you’ve been together for two years already, you know how to be honest with each other.

“okay, so, i just need to know how you feel about this whole dating rumor between me and jun,” you say. “i know you said you’re fine, but i want you to be completely honest.”

“i’m fine.” chan smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “i mean it. it’s fine. i know that it’s not true, and whatever the world may think, i know the truth.”

you want to believe him. you want to just say, ‘okay, let’s go to bed’, but you know he’s not telling the truth. “you don’t have to be fine with it.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice level, clear, and without the shake to it you can hear so well. you’re an actor, you should be able to do this, but somehow, without a camera, you never manage to. “i mean it. you don’t have to be fine with it. i wouldn’t be. i would hate seeing you with someone else. i would hate it even more if everyone wanted you to be with someone else. babe, i get jealous of you flirting with carats on lives and fancalls.”

the silence is loud. chan avoids your gaze, looking instead at his hands as he fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. you take his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. “it’s okay.”

his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks. “it’s stupid,” he says, and your heart breaks.

“it’s not stupid.” you use your other hand to lift his head up to look at you. “i am telling you, whatever you’re feeling, it is not stupid.”

“i don’t like it. i don’t like feeling this way, i don’t like seeing everyone talk about you, i don’t like all the comments about the two of you. they even asked on my live, about you and jun. i think i did well not to make it obvious, but i hated it. but it’s so stupid to feel this way when i know you and jun, and i know you’d never think of each other that way.” he sniffles. a tear runs down his cheek. you wipe it away. “seeing people talk about you as if you’re with someone else makes me feel like i don’t matter.”

you pull him close in a tight hug. he buries his head in the crook of your neck. “baby, i’m sorry,” you say. his arms tightens around you, holding you as close as possible. you don’t pull away, waiting for him to decide when he doesn’t need a hug anymore.

it lasts for what feels like forever and the blink of an eye at the same time. a mixture of feelings spread out through your body. you can’t tell what it is, can’t tell how you’re feeling as chan pulls out of your hug. somehow, you know what you want to do next;

make sure all these rumors and theories and whatever they are stop.

“i love you, you know that, right?” you ask. you lean your forehead against his.

“i know. i love you, too.” he kisses you. you kiss back, keeping him close before he pulls away.

it’s still a short kiss, but it has you remember all the things you love about him. the way he smiles, the way he talks, the way he dances, the way he laughs. all the things that had you fall for him in the first place, the reason why it hurts you so much to see him hurting.

when you pull away, you only have one thought on your mind.

“do you wanna tell the world?”

it’s a big question. going public about your relationship could jeopardize your careers. it will have more consequences for his as an idol than yours as an actor, and it would put you both in the limelight for something other than what you want to be there for. you’ve worked hard to keep your relationship private, to keep your private life out of the public eye. but that one kiss and this whole conversation made you realize that you love chan enough to risk it.

chan pulls away. he takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers. “i want everyone to know how much i love you,” he says. “but are you sure?”

you shrug. “i don’t know what might happen if we do, but you’re hurting so much because of all this talk about me and jun that i don’t know how else to battle it. there’s still so much of it that im not sure if it will blow over when the drama ends.” you take a deep breath and smile. “and i love you so much that i’m willing to risk whatever consequences may come.”

“really?” there’s something hopeful in his voice, something ready to agree. “you’re absolutely sure?”

“yes. i love you and i want the whole world to know.” you kiss him. “it’s not like we’d be announcing it right this second, and we can still think about it, but maybe that’s the next step.”

chan grins. “i love you, too.” he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, fingers still entwined. “does this mean i can openly flirt with you at all times?”

“i guess.” you laugh. “but the deal is you stop overusing that smirk emoji.”

“i love that emoji. it gets the point across.”

“well, i don’t need it to know what you’re trying to say, though. i know exactly what’s on your mind.” you smile, a giddy feeling now coursing through your veins. “also, you have to stop saying sleep whenever you don’t actually mean to sleep.”

chan fakes a shocked look. “what? you want me to say sex every time? even in front of other people?”

you hit him lightly. “i don’t want you to talk about it in front of other people at all,” you say and start to get up from the couch. “c’mon. let’s clean up, go to bed, and maybe i’ll have enough energy to sleep tomorrow.”

chan pulls you back down by your hands still entwined. “we can always sleep now,” he says, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

there is no one in the entire world you love more then lee chan, and he continues to make you love him more every single day. even with the nervous tension that comes with revealing your relationship to the public, the prospect of your future together looks brighter than ever.

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boo talks

a written chapter for a change. they finally talked! i really like this chapter but my god is the change between doing texting and actually writing it out hard at times (i think i rewrote this like three times before i was happy with it, and im still not actually sure im happy with it...) anyways, im currently on christmas break from uni (finally done with exams and at least one went well and we'll see), which may mean more one shots and hopefully a christmas themed one? idk, but i hope...

#caratlibrary #caratsland #svt smau #dino smau #seventeen x reader #dino x reader #seventeen #svt #chan x reader #lee chan #dino

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agentfinder · 1 month ago

Text

Bumbleby Week! @bumblebyweek-blog

(A snippet from Damaged Good, my post-Salem AU)

Day 1: Imagining a Future with You.

Yang knew magic existed. She had traveled with a body jumping wizard. Her own mother had been a magical Maiden with elemental powers. Her sister had silver eyes that turned Grimm into statues. But MIRACLES! She had NOT been a believer. However this day she saw a miracle as the nurses wheeled Weiss, her sister-in-law, into the room. Ruby stood beside her wife’s wheelchair, practically vibrating with joy, before she announced to the room.

“Sisters, friends, Weiss.”

“Hey,” Weiss replied with mock indignation and snickering from her friends.

“We humbly introduce you to Joan Rose-Schnee!”

Yang was floored. That was NOT the name she thought her sisters would pick. Blake took advantage of Yang’s surprise to skip to the front of the line to make goo-goo eyes at the baby. One nurse held the baby away while another helped the new birth mother into bed. The nurse handed the baby to the now, officially, semi-retired huntress in the bed.

“Make sure that anyone you let hold the baby knows how to support her soft head. She won’t be hungry for a little while longer but our lactation specialist will be in when it’s time to try.”

Blake and Ruby were hovering near the two and Whitley was speaking to someone, probably Winter, on his scroll and Willow gently stroked her youngest daughter’s hair. So Yang got to take in the scene in front of her uninterrupted. She allowed the happy tears to stream down her cheeks.

“Would you like to hold her, Blake?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby you’re her mother too. You should get to hold her first.” Blake answered in protest.

Ruby laughed before settling the faunus worries, “Oh, trust me, I’ve held her bunches while the nurses and doctors did all their poking and prodding. Plus I have a call to make myself.” At Blake’s questioning look The younger woman said, “I think a certain blonde doofus is deserving of a call. Honestly, he and his team were desperate to try and get here for the birth but with the flu going through the orphanage we thought it best they didn’t.”

Blake didn’t reply with words, only a giant smile as she reached for her niece. At the nurses look Blake reassured her, “I had Jaune teach me the correct way to hold a newborn.” The nurse didn’t look impressed.

“He would have taught her the correct way. It would have been an “Arc Promise.” And those are always kept.” Weiss told the nurse as she passed Joan over.

Yang gently got her sister’s attention and when Ruby came near asked, “I thought you would have named her Summer?”

“We decided to name her in honor of her bio-dad. I thought long and hard about it and decided to let YOU have the honor of naming YOUR daughter Summer.”

“Ha!” Yang fake laughed. “You two might as well start trying for another one cause I’m NOT looking to have kids. Ever!”

Ruby smiled and looked over her shoulder. “You sure about that, Yang?” The blonde looked back towards her wife. She held a baby like it was the most natural thing on Remnant. Her smile was radiant as she rocked and swayed the sleeping child. Yang felt her heart swell with yet more love as she imagined taking care of a pregnant Blake. Holding a babe all her own. It was never a future she had planned for herself but seeing this…

“Okay. Yeah. I’m asking Blake if she wants to try for a baby.”

Ruby leapt up to give her sister a giant hug that left the hooded huntress’s feet dangling in the air.

When the hug ended, both sisters dried their eyes. “We didn’t tell Vomit Boy about the name yet. Want to be on the scroll call with me and see his face when we do?”

“Petal,” Weiss spoke up from the bed, “if you think you will spoil the reveal without me seeing the dolt’s face too, you’re nuttier than Tyrian was.”

“Yeah,” Blake added as she, reluctantly, handed the baby to its grandmother, “I wanna see this too.”

The two sisters walked back over and as Yang reached her wife she couldn’t stop herself from pulling Blake into a sweet, but intense, kiss. “What was that about?”

Yang couldn’t stop smiling as she answered softly, “I’ll tell you when we get back to the house. Now! I got fifty lien that says Jaune starts crying,”

“I barely know him and I know that’s a sucker bet,” Whitley said as he finished his call. “A hundred says he faints.”

“You’re on.” Four voices chimed back. Sharing a look as they giggled at the white haired boy who was obviously taken aback; team RWBY squeezed themselves, and their newest addition, into the scroll screen. Ruby hit the button. It was answered before the first ring finished.

#rwby #bumblebyweek2025 #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladona #bumblebyweek #bumblby #whiterose #willow schnee #whitney schnee #all the babies #damaged good au

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lizardperson · 1 month ago

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oc tag game <3

the awesome @dellamortte tagged me [here] and because i never pass up an opportunity to ramble about my idiots... *cracks knuckles* also i'm gonna cheat and talk about TWO just because i can :D

tagging: @twiggies-draws @clit-eastwood-spicy @ladyunderthemolehill @dragkingandreweldritch (no pressure tho obvs) and whoever feels like doing this :D

mika & gabriel as of current Dark Lights, Shine Loud status (chapter 11)

[art credits: lelelego / noxious-fennec / grozat ]

General

Name: mikaela jacobson (actually has a middle name but would rather die than tell it to anyone)

Alias/Nickname: mika. she *hates* her full name and only a handful of people actually know it. brat and menace also work as nicknames of course.

Gender: tomboy

Age: 32

Place of Birth: chicago

Spoken Languages: english; spanish relatively fluent

Sexual Orientation: very

Occupation: social worker

Favorites

Color: changes daily, but definitely ~colorful~

Entertainment: anything music (making, writing, listening, concerts, dancing)

Pastime: music, hanging out with friends, sex, running

Food: basically everything - loves most foods, loves trying out new ones, couldn't name a favorite dish

Drink: energy drink (all of them), coffee (order: dead eye, which is 3 espresso shots in a normal coffee, with no milk but an obscene amount of sugar)

Books: not a huge reader, but if she had to pick one then probably alice in wonderland

Movies: (sneakily adding this myself lol. in no particular order, and yes i have definitely overthought that) death proof; mars attacks; the boat that rocked; tropic thunder; across the universe; the men who stare at goats; rocky horror picture show; scott pilgrim vs the world; almost famous; boogie nights; legally blonde; yes man; wayne's world; napoleon dynamite; moulin rouge; lilo & stitch; the thing; dude where's my car; various jackass movies

Have They…

Passed University: yes but it took a while. has a ba in sociology

Had Sex: so much

Had Sex in Public: definitely, more than once

Gotten Tattoos: lots

Gotten Piercings: both nipples, and a bunch of ear piercings

Gotten Scars: a few from various dumbasseries

Had a Broken Heart: no

Been in Love: little miss demiromantic... definitely madly in love with gabriel by now (but wouldn't admit that ofc), other than that not really. bunch of crushes tho, but more in a horny way than in a love-way.

Are They…

A cuddler: huge. overall a very physically affectionate person with everyone. no sense of personal space.

Scared easily: no. fearless (dumbass)

Jealous easily: nope, not at all

Trustworthy: yes

Family

Siblings: no biological ones (that she knows of), but considers her foster brother aaron her real brother. met when they were both 12 and have been attached at the hip since then. also has a million other foster siblings, with various degrees of closeness

Parents: mother jess, had mika at like 19, died when mika was in her late teens. father unknown at this point, according to jess it was some drunk one night stand. foster mother charlotte morrison ('mrs. m'), mika lived with her since she was 12. died last year.

Children: currently none

Pets: always lowkey kinda wanted a dog but never got around to it

General

Name: gabriel l. wallace

Alias/Nickname: 'that old man', but of course only mika calls him that. will correct everyone who tries to call him gabe.

Gender: cis man

Age: 50

Place of Birth: some small town not far from portland maine

Spoken Languages: english; some rusty french and spanish which he has been meaning to brush up eventually

Sexual Orientation: straight

Occupation: lawyer (criminal defense)

Favorites

Color: black

Entertainment: books, music

Pastime: reading, spending time with people he likes, swimming, various other sport stuff, music

Food: doesn't really have a fav dish, but generally likes a lot of mediterranean food, lots of fish. pretty open to trying new things

Drink: water, some type of fancy whiskey

Books: seven pillars of wisdom (th lawrence), a lot of classics/'top 100 books of the 20th century' stuff - nabokov, joyce, steinbeck (doesn't care for hemingway tho). guilty pleasure: old detective/noir novels, the pulpier the better. mika makes fun of him for that.

Movies: would probably answer "none", but actually it's casablanca and various other bogart movies

Have They…

Passed University: yes. law school and all that.

Had Sex: yes

Had Sex in Public: probably got talked into something semi public by mika at one point or another

Gotten Tattoos: no

Gotten Piercings: no

Gotten Scars: a few, but none that have a meaningful story

Had a Broken Heart: yes, when he and kat 'restructured' their marriage

Been in Love: yes, couple times

Are They…

A cuddler: only with very selected people, but then yes

Scared easily: no. unshakeable.

Jealous easily: no

Trustworthy: very

Family

Siblings: none

Parents: marlene 'marly' and allan, both dead. there's a whole tragic backstory here.

Children: none, unless you count the baby that died during birth when he was in his 20s

Pets: none. he doesn't want any.

blank template below:

General

Name:

Alias:

Gender:

Age:

Place of Birth:

Spoken Languages:

Sexual Orientation:

Occupation:

Favorites

Color:

Entertainment:

Pastime:

Food:

Drink:

Books:

Have They…

Passed University:

Had Sex:

Had Sex in Public:

Gotten Tattoos:

Gotten Piercings:

Gotten Scars:

Had a Broken Heart:

Been in Love:

Are They…

A cuddler:

Scared easily:

Jealous easily:

Trustworthy:

Family

Siblings:

Parents:

Children:

Pets:

#mika tag #gabriel tag #thanks for the tag i LOVED this :D

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aspenmissing · 3 months ago

Note

Hello my dear! I'm so so sorry, but I need to request another story idea, becaue I just saw something similar on TikTok :'D

Idk if you know the "Hyperpigmentation-Meme" in which a little girl drew a picture of her mother and the outcome was....well...breathtaking. The mother tried to stay as calm and supportive as possible, but here and there she failed xD (I'll insert the drawing at the end of the request)

So I thought....how about Reader, beeing really artsy and maybe owning her own gallery in Piltover. Jayce, as supportive as he is, loves every single painting she made. On their day off they make a little "art date" sort of thing and Jayce creates something similar. Reader completely lost it and poor Jayce be there like :'((

(Maybe it'll become a meme between Reader and Viktor, after showing him this "glorious piece of art")

I know, that canonical Jayce can draw pretty good, but I just love the idea xDD

ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴀʀᴛ ɪꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 3125 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ! ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴅ, ɪ ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ɪ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰʀɪᴅɢᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ! ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɴʏ ɢɪɢɢʟᴇꜱ! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

It was a bright, peaceful morning in Piltover when Jayce and Y/N decided to take the day off. The bustling city outside had a certain charm, but today, it was just them, free to spend time however they wished. Y/N's art gallery had been a great success—her paintings filling the walls with vibrant colors, each one telling a story of a life lived, full of love and loss, triumph and hope. Jayce had been there, supporting her every step of the way, always in awe of her skill. He was proud of her, but more than anything, he was deeply in love with her.

"How about an art date?" Y/N suggested with a playful grin as they sat together in their cozy living room.

Jayce raised an eyebrow, the mischievous gleam in his eyes betraying his excitement. "An art date, huh? I like the sound of that. But you're not going to make me pose like one of your models, are you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "No, no, nothing like that. I thought we could just have fun with it. You draw me, and I'll draw you. Let's see who does better."

Jayce grinned widely. "You're on. But I warn you, I'm quite the artist myself."

Y/N leaned in close, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then I can't wait to see this."

They each grabbed a piece of paper and a set of colored pencils, setting up a little corner near the window with soft sunlight streaming in. Jayce sat down first, eager to begin.

Y/N positioned herself in a relaxed pose, giving him the chance to sketch her. She stretched out comfortably on the couch, her body angled just so. Jayce’s gaze softened as he focused on her features, the delicate curve of her cheekbones, the playful light in her eyes. But as he began sketching, his hand moved in a way that didn’t quite translate to what was in his mind.

Y/N, ever the calm one, sat still as a rock. She was determined to be supportive and encouraging. She watched him work, waiting patiently for Jayce to finish. But the longer she looked, the more she could see that his drawing… well, it wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for.

She tried her best to stay composed. "Mhm, I see what you’re doing there," Y/N said, her voice soft and steady, even though she could feel her lips twitching at the absurdity of the sketch. She wasn’t going to laugh—not yet.

Jayce, however, was entirely caught up in his own vision of the masterpiece. His pencil moved with enthusiasm, though it was clear he was struggling to keep the proportions correct. He looked at her, then back at the paper, biting his lip as he tried to capture her essence. In his mind, he thought he was creating something beautiful, something worthy of her.

Y/N watched quietly, her gaze soft as she observed the careful concentration on his face. She wanted to be encouraging, to support him in the process. So, she sat still, a calm presence as he worked, her eyes tracing the gentle lines of his face as she tried her best to stay serene. "I trust you, Jayce," she said softly. "It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just… have fun with it."

Jayce smiled in response, grateful for her kindness. But as the minutes passed and his sketch began to take shape—or rather, not take shape—the lines on the page veered further and further from what Y/N had hoped for. Her calmness was starting to waver, but she clung to her composure, willing herself to be supportive.

Finally, Jayce handed over his "masterpiece." Y/N hesitated for a moment before she took the piece of paper in her hands, trying her best to maintain her calm demeanor. The proportions were all wrong. Her face looked strangely warped, with exaggerated features, and her skin had become a bizarre shade of orange. Her hair, well, it looked more like a mess of tangled lines than anything close to the soft waves she had.

For a long, awkward moment, she just stared at the drawing, her face expressionless as she processed what she was seeing. Her mind raced through all the possible ways to react, but none of them seemed appropriate. She wanted to keep the supportive persona she had promised herself to uphold, but the longer she looked, the harder it became.

Finally, the corners of her mouth began to twitch. Her breathing hitched slightly, and no matter how hard she tried to keep it together, it was as if the tension finally broke. Y/N’s shoulders began to shake as the laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the inevitable outburst, but it was too late.

"Jayce…" she gasped between fits of laughter, her voice cracking. "What… what is this?!"

Jayce’s face turned bright red as he immediately saw the cause of her amusement. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to hold back the mounting embarrassment. "I… uh, I thought it looked pretty good! What’s wrong with it?"

Y/N bent over, clutching her stomach as her laughter grew louder. "Jayce, you—" She couldn’t finish the sentence. "You made me look like… like a bloated pumpkin!" She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "I look like something out of a funny house nightmare!"

Jayce groaned, the sting of her laughter piercing through him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Okay, okay, I admit it. I’m not the best with portraits… I thought it looked better in my head!"

Y/N, now nearly doubled over, reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, still gasping for air. She wiped another tear away, trying her best to control herself, but it was hopeless. "I don’t know whether I should frame this as 'modern art' or donate it to a horror museum," she said, her voice still cracking as she continued to laugh uncontrollably.

Jayce chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, I gave it my best shot. You can’t blame me for trying."

Y/N finally managed to take a deep breath, wiping her eyes as she composed herself. "Alright, alright, I’ll give you credit for effort," she said, her voice still warm with affection, though her lips twitched with another suppressed laugh. "But this? This is going straight into my personal ‘what not to do in art’ collection."

Jayce leaned in, placing a kiss on her cheek, still red-faced but smiling through the embarrassment. "Okay, but now it’s your turn. I want to see your version of ‘me.’"

Y/N smiled, the last traces of laughter fading as she took a deep breath and set the paper down. She wiped her eyes one last time before picking up her pencils, focusing herself on the task at hand. She was determined to redeem the art date, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but smile every time her gaze flicked back to the disastrous portrait Jayce had created.

With steady hands, Y/N began sketching. Her strokes were confident and fluid, capturing Jayce’s features with precision. She focused on the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited, the strong line of his jaw, the little furrow in his brow when he was deep in thought. It wasn’t just about making a beautiful portrait; it was about capturing his essence, his warmth, the way he made her feel like the luckiest person alive.

When she was finished, she leaned back, turned the paper around, and handed it to him. It was a portrait of the two of them together, laughing in the sunlight, their eyes sparkling. It wasn’t just a portrait—it was a memory, a shared moment that reflected the joy and love they had together.

Jayce stared at the drawing, his eyes wide with awe. "Wow," he whispered, completely taken aback. "You’re incredible, Y/N. I don’t know how you do it."

Y/N smiled softly, the warmth of his words filling her heart. "Because I have you, Jayce," she said gently, her voice full of love. "You make everything better."

Their gaze locked, and Y/N could see the admiration in his eyes, the way he saw her not just as a skilled artist, but as the woman he adored. In that moment, they didn’t need words to understand. They both knew the love they shared was a masterpiece—flawed, imperfect, but absolutely perfect all the same.

And so they spent the rest of the day, laughing, creating, and enjoying the quiet joy of just being together. In the end, it wasn’t about who drew better or who had the better portrait. It was about the bond they shared, a love that no portrait could ever truly capture.

A few days after their art date, Jayce walked into the lab, the sound of light snickering and laughter filling the room. It was a typical morning, the buzz of science and invention humming in the air, but something seemed a little off. Jayce raised an eyebrow, confused, as he glanced over at Viktor and Y/N.

The two of them were seated near one of the workstations, their heads leaning close together, clearly in on some sort of joke. Y/N's shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to keep it together. Viktor, too, had a sly grin on his face, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Jayce couldn’t help but feel a little wary, his brow furrowing. "What’s going on here?" he asked, his voice betraying a slight curiosity. "What’s so funny?"

Y/N quickly wiped away the tears from her eyes, trying to compose herself. She cast a quick glance at Viktor, who was barely containing his own laughter.

Viktor, always one to seize an opportunity, raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. "Ah, well, we were just admiring… your work, Jayce," he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "A true glorious piece of art, really. Truly remarkable."

Jayce’s eyes narrowed as he began to connect the dots. Viktor’s tone was too playful, and Y/N's failed attempt at hiding her laughter only made him more suspicious. He slowly approached the workstation, where a piece of paper lay on the table between them.

He looked at it, and his heart immediately sank.

There, staring up at him, was the drawing—the one he had made of Y/N, the one that had become a symbol of his artistic failure. Y/N’s "bloated pumpkin" face was staring back at him, a cartoonish distortion of her features, complete with the bizarre orange hue and unkempt hair. The proportions were all off, and it looked like a nightmare from a funhouse mirror.

Jayce let out a groan, his face flushing with embarrassment. "You… you kept it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached for the drawing, his face turning even redder as he examined it closely. "I thought… I thought you said you’d throw it out."

Y/N, still snickering, wiped another tear from her eye and looked at him innocently. "I never said I’d throw it out. I promised to keep it, remember?" she said between giggles. "And besides, it’s too good not to keep as a reminder."

Viktor leaned in, inspecting the picture with exaggerated awe. "A true masterpiece, indeed," he said with a grin. "I think it belongs in a museum."

Jayce shot a pointed look at Viktor. "Thanks, Viktor. Glad to see you’re on her side," he muttered, though there was no real malice behind his words.

Y/N finally caught her breath and sat up straight, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, Jayce," she said with a teasing grin, "maybe you should stick to inventions and leave the art to me."

Jayce crossed his arms, shaking his head, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite the embarrassment. "Alright, alright, I admit it. It was terrible. But it was from the heart, okay?"

Y/N leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her expression softening. "I know, and I love you even more for it," she said warmly, her voice sincere.

Viktor raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Well, I can’t deny it was a… memorable piece. But I think we can agree that your strength lies elsewhere, Jayce."

Jayce let out a resigned sigh, but there was a lightness to his expression now. "I’ll never live this down, will I?"

"Not a chance," Y/N replied, still chuckling. "But don’t worry, Jayce. It’s all part of the fun." She gestured to the drawing. "Maybe one day, you’ll be able to look back at it and laugh, too."

Jayce glanced at the piece of paper one more time, the awkwardness still fresh, but he found himself smiling despite it. "Yeah," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe one day. But for now… I’ll stick to what I’m good at."

Viktor clapped Jayce on the back with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Good choice, my friend. Leave the pumpkins to the experts."

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing as he joined in on the joke. It seemed like, no matter how bad the drawing had been, it had brought a new layer to their friendship. And as much as he hated to admit it, maybe it was worth keeping around—just for the laughs.

He glanced over at Y/N, her smile still bright and teasing. "Alright, alright," he muttered. "But only if we never speak of this again."

Y/N raised her hand in mock solemnity. "I promise I’ll never bring it up again—unless you give me a reason to."

Jayce rolled his eyes and sighed. "I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?"

"Nope," Y/N said with a wink. "But I wouldn’t want it any other way."

And with that, the three of them continued their work in the lab, the light-hearted teasing lingering in the air.

Months passed, and Piltover’s streets were bustling as always, but today there was an extra air of excitement in the city. Y/N was hosting a celebration at her art gallery, a grand unveiling of her newest works. The space was filled with eager art enthusiasts, fellow artists, and friends. The soft glow of candles and spotlights illuminated the vibrant paintings that filled the walls. The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and conversation, as people admired the stunning artwork on display.

Jayce stood beside her, ever the supportive partner. He was dressed smartly, as always, but today there was something different in the way he looked at Y/N. He could see her growing confidence, the way her gallery had blossomed into a beacon of artistic brilliance. He couldn’t be prouder of her.

As the night wore on, Y/N took his hand, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. "Come on," she said, tugging him gently through the crowd. "I have something special to show you."

Jayce followed, intrigued, as Y/N led him to a quieter corner of the gallery, where a single piece hung framed on a pedestal. The title of the piece read: True Art Comes from the Heart. Jayce’s heart gave an unexpected lurch as his eyes landed on it.

It was the picture—the drawing he had made of Y/N during their art date. The one that had caused so much laughter and teasing. But it hadn’t been altered, no paint or finesse added. It was exactly as it had been, with its exaggerated proportions and odd details. Y/N hadn’t changed a single thing.

Beneath the sketch, the message was written in elegant script:

"True art comes from the heart, no matter how it’s shaped."

Jayce’s mouth hung open as he stared at the painting, blinking a few times. "Y/N… you… you kept it?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and awe.

Y/N smiled at him, a proud glint in her eyes. "Of course, I did. It wasn’t just a funny sketch, Jayce. It was a reminder of how much you care, how much you put into everything you do. And that’s what makes it perfect."

Jayce stood speechless for a moment, taking in the sketch, his emotions mixing. It wasn’t just a joke anymore. It was something real—something meaningful. His hand rested on the frame, his gaze softening.

"You… you really think it’s perfect?" he asked quietly, still unsure.

Y/N nodded, her eyes warm. "Absolutely. It shows that no matter what the end result is, if it’s from the heart, it’s worth something. It’s worth celebrating."

A small, affectionate smile curved on Jayce’s lips as he turned to her. "I never thought I’d see the day when you’d keep this disaster."

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. "You might think it’s a disaster, but to me, it’s a treasure. It’s a piece of you, Jayce. And I wouldn’t change a thing."

Jayce swallowed, his throat tight with emotion. He looked again at the drawing, the raw simplicity of it now striking him in a way he hadn’t expected. "I didn’t think I’d ever live it down," he said softly.

Y/N laughed lightly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You’re living it up, Jayce. You’re not just an inventor—you’re an artist in your own way. This," she gestured to the drawing, "is a reminder that art doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be real."

Jayce smiled at her words, feeling a warm sense of pride spread through him. "I never thought this would be how it turned out. But, I guess I’m glad you see something in it."

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, her voice filled with affection. "What can I say? Art is art, even when it’s a little… unconventional."

They stood there for a while, side by side, hands clasped together, taking in the picture. It wasn’t just a simple drawing—it was a symbol of their bond, of how they saw each other, and how much they meant to one another.

"I guess," Jayce started, his voice a little softer, "if this is how you see it, maybe I can start to appreciate my own work a little more."

Y/N smiled, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. "You don’t need to be a perfect artist, Jayce. You’re perfect to me just the way you are."

Jayce chuckled, pulling her close. "I’m glad you feel that way. Because I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either."

The evening continued, with the two of them staying close, hearts full of love and laughter. The gallery around them was full of art—beautiful, carefully crafted pieces—but none of them captured the essence of their love like the simple, unaltered sketch on the wall.

It was the perfect masterpiece, after all.

#Arcane #Arcane Fandom #reader insert #jayce x y/n #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce x you #arcane fluff

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beanghostprincess · 1 year ago

Text

Sanuso incorrect quotes!!

(some are slightly suggestive)

Sanji: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this... Usopp: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card? Sanji: Oh damn-

Sanji: Just be careful, Usopp! Usopp: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Sanji! Usopp: It's everything around me that's careless.

Usopp: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives. Sanji: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to make breakfast. Usopp: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives.

Usopp: I fell— Sanji: From heaven? Usopp: No, I literally fell— Sanji: In love with me the moment you saw me? Usopp: MY ARM IS BROKEN! Sanji: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Usopp: Okay, but if you're not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend? Sanji: Dude- It's satire! Usopp: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Usopp: We both look very handsome tonight. Sanji: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you." Usopp: I couldn't take that chance.

Usopp: Hey, wanna take a shower with me? Sanji: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

Usopp: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you? Sanji: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

Sanji: Is something burning? Usopp, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Sanji: Usopp, the toaster is literally on fire.

*Usopp comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Sanji’s bedroom.* Sanji: Mon trésor, are you.. coming to bed? Usopp: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Usopp: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Sanji: ...

Sanji: The stars are so beautiful... Usopp: They're just giant balls of gas. Sanji: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Usopp: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Sanji: Oh...

Sanji: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration* Usopp: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Sanji: I— Sanji: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

Sanji: When we started dating, you know what Usopp often said to me? Nami: Please stop flirting with other people?

Usopp: So, what’s Sanji's type? Nami: Brown eyes, kind, oblivious, good sense of humor, turtle lover. Usopp: Sounds kind of like me. Too bad we’re just friends. Nami: Did I mention oblivious? Usopp: Yeah, why? Nami: Okay, just making sure.

Zoro: Hey, what’s up? Usopp: The sky. Zoro: No, I meant like, what are you doing? Usopp: Oh, Sanji. Sanji: *highfives Usopp* Nice one, mon amour.

Robin: Wow, you and Usopp are home early from the movies. What happened? Sanji: We got kicked out because Usopp wouldn't stop yelling diving scores as people jumped off the titanic. Usopp: That last guy had a solid 8, I'm telling you!

Nami: I like your top, Sanji! Usopp: I have a name, you know. Sanji: *sighs* Why. Why are you like this.

Nami: Who do we know that has handcuffs? Usopp: Well Sanji and I- Sanji: *elbows Usopp* Usopp: ...wouldn't know.

Sanji: sapnu puaS. Nami: What?? Usopp: What language is that. Sanji: Turn your phone 180 degrees <3 *Sanji was removed from the groupchat*

Usopp: Sorry, I'm late to the party. I've been doing things. Sanji, entering in an unbuttoned shirt: I got caught up doing things too. Chopper: Wow, Usopp was late too! What a coincidence!

Usopp: Where are you going? Sanji: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one! Usopp: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday! Zoro and Nami, knowing full well that Usopp got Sanji an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

Sanji, holding a rock: Usopp just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock". Nami: If you don't marry him, I will.

Zoro: So, are you two dating now? Sanji & Usopp: Yes. Zoro: Why? Sanji: I happen to find Usopp very appealing. Zoro: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Usopp.

Usopp: *yawns* Sanji: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring. Usopp: Then you must be exhuasted. Nami: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely and have their girlfriends very far away.

Usopp: Come on, Nami. Nobody actually believes that Sanji is in love with me. Nami, to The Crew: Raise your hand if you think that Sanji is helplessly in love with Usopp. *Everyone raises their hand* Usopp: Sanji, put your hand down.

Usopp: Sanji annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what they have planned for our special day tomorrow. Nami: There is nothing special about tomorrow. Usopp: But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.

Usopp: This food is too hot... I can't eat it. Sanji: You’re very hot, and I still eat you. Everyone at the table: *silence* Nami: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING! Zoro: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

#these were funny to make ngl #i love them so much they're both stupid #shout out to nami and zoro being always there #also transfem sanji if you squint #usopp always tops here bc i like bottom sanji personally but like in my head they're always switching #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #nami #roronoa zoro #tony tony chopper #franky #nico robin #sanuso #one piece incorrect quotes

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goosewriting · 1 year ago

Text

“Have we met?” - Part 2

summary: Fives keeps finding himself coming to see reader, so they decide to confront him.

relationship: Fives x gn!reader

warnings: hmmm angst :^), mentions of characters’ deaths, implied brainwashing?, comfort at the end

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i'll do everything in my power to bring this man back time and time again >:')

prompts used (source): - it hurts me, just how much i ache for you - i feel your absence in everything that i do alone, in every place i go without you

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

→ PART 2: When you came back to him

Several days go by without you and Fives interacting much. He’s mostly focussing on his missions, and you’re focused on your work as well, trying to distract yourself from the pain of being away from your beloved by taking shift after shift. The nights are long and cold for you, and you can barely sleep. You wonder if he feels the same at all.

One evening, a ship comes back in such a bad state, they call all hands on deck to repair it. So you go down to the hangar to work on turning whatever is salvageable from the wreck back into a working part. After taking one last sip of your caf (it was going to be a long night), you set the cup away and crawl under a panel, looking at the messy wiring. It isn’t long until you hear some steps approaching and stopping beside you.

You climb out from under the ship and see none other than Fives, just standing there, helmet tucked under one of his arms. He looks unsure and kind of tense. You lean onto the ship’s frame.

“Hey, handsome,” you greet him with your usual pet name.

“Hi,” is all he replies. You rise your brows at him, asking for him to continue, but he doesn’t. For a moment, all you two hear is the sounds of machinery and indistinct chatter of the hangar.

“So,” you stretch out the word. “What brings you here this fine evening?”

“I’m… honestly not entirely sure myself,” Fives responds, looking around as if he only now realised where he was without knowing how he got here. Then he heaves a sigh. “I found this in my last mission and had the sudden urge to bring it back for you, for some reason.”

He digs around in one of the pouches on his belt with his free hand and takes out a little rock. Offering it to you, he holds out his open palm, and you almost burst into tears right then and there. Back when you started dating, you had jokingly told Fives that on his next mission he should bring back a souvenir for you. And since then, he’d always do that, bringing you rocks or trinkets he found. Once he actually gave you one of his old armour parts, a shoulder pauldron, that got absolutely obliterated in an explosion because he hadn't had the time to get you anything better. You kept it anyway, because it was a reminder to both of you that even after going out there and risking his life, you were here waiting for him to come back to you.

And he had, every single time. Except that this time, he came back, just not to you.

Seeing that you're just staring at the rock in his hand, Fives clears his throat.

“You know what, nevermind,” he mumbles, about to put the rock back into his pouch. “It was silly anyway.”

“No, wait,” you stop him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out. I’ll take the rock.”

You take it into your hand to inspect it, turning it around in your fingers against the light. One half is of a brick red, while the other partially transparent, of a milky blue with specks of green and gold. It looks a bit like a galaxy, and the thought brings a smile to your face. Clutching the rock in your fist, you bring it to your chest and look up at Fives with a genuine smile.

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head to the side slightly. “It’s been a while since you brought me one of this colour.”

“Right…”, he says and starts studying your face, but then his hand shoots up to his head as he takes a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Are you okay?” You reach out to him, but he takes a step back.

“I-I’m fine,” he says through gritted teeth, trying to calm his pained breaths. “Sorry to interrupt you while you’re working. I better get back.”

“See you around, I hope?” you ask, hugging yourself.

He leaves with a nod, but you could have sworn you heard him say “me too” under his breath.

This goes on for a couple of rotations; Fives suddenly appearing at your workstation in the hangar looking like he’s lost, or entering your workshop only to come to a sudden halt, as if he forgot why he’s there right after passing the door. Often he'd have a little trinket for you. Other times he’d just come by to say hi. But every time you try to bring up something from your past together, his head starts hurting and he leaves.

At some point, you decide you've waited long enough. You'd get nowhere by just waiting. After all, he was coming to see you. Even if he didn’t know why himself. So now it’s time to go to him instead. You've wooed him once, surely you can do it again… right?

On a particularly frustrating day at work, after trying to design a new electrical panel for a ship and not being able to make it work after what felt like a hundred tries, you decide you need to get out and move a bit to clear your mind. You’re still grumbling and thinking about the panel, turning it over and over in your mind’s eye, trying to find the problem. All the while, your legs are walking on their own, and it’s not too long before you find yourself at the barracks of the 501st.

Standing in front of the door, you sigh, thinking back to how many times you had sneaked in and out of here. Officially, clones weren’t allowed to have romantic relationships, but you knew there were actually a handful on this ship. And everyone who was in on it kept the secret. The 501st was well aware of your relationship with Fives, and they had always been supportive, Rex included. You’re sure the Generals also suspected something, but they never said anything, for which you were thankful.

Unsure of what you even wanted to do here in the first place, you’re about to turn around and leave when the door suddenly slides open and you’re met with Fives, sans armour. He’s only wearing his blacks, a bag hanging from his shoulders; he’s going to the gym.

“Oh, hi there,” he greets you with a small smile. “Were you looking for someone?”

Screw it, you think.

“Actually, yes. You,” you answer and gesture towards his bag. “Leave it, we need to talk.”

— — —

Entering to your room, you sit down on your bed, and Fives sits down on a chair next to it.

“I’ve been wondering for a while now,” you start, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. “Do you remember what happened on Ringo Vinda?”

The question takes Fives by surprise, but he makes an effort to try and think back to those events. He tells you what he knows, from the start of the mission to seeing Tup shoot General Tiplar, his memories ending when the Kaminoans put him under for a routine check-up.

“I had this recurring nightmare for several days after I came back,” Fives ends his retelling with a frown. “I kept seeing Tup on Kamino, in the room next to mine. He was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but as his head starts spinning again, he retracts his hand from yours at first. But this time, he reaches back for your hand with a groan, and brings it to his face so you cup his cheek.

“Every time when I’m with you, it hurts,” Fives speaks in a whisper. “My head is screaming at me to get away from you. And at the same time, it hurts me, just how much I ache for you.”

He tightly closes his eyes to refrain from crying, but the tears are already rolling down his cheeks. You feel incredibly helpless.

“Why can’t I remember who you are?” he asks, his voice breaking, just like your heart. “I don’t remember seeing your face or hearing your voice before, yet I feel your absence in everything that I do alone, in every place I go without you… I find myself looking for you wherever I go.”

By now, you can’t hold it back any more and take both his hands, pulling him to sit beside you on the bed, and hug him. This time he hugs back, and he's shaking.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Fives, but it’s okay,” you say into his shoulder, gently stroking up and down his back. “You’re back here with me. We’ll be fine.”

By the way he’s shaking, you can tell he’s trying to choke back a sob.

“It’s just you and me, sweetheart, just let it out.”

Fives starts crying properly, holding onto you for dear life, his face buried between your neck and your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Fives,” you say, your own tears staining his blacks. “I wish I knew what to do. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he breathes as he pulls back slightly to look at you, and for the first time since he came back to the Resolute, it feels like he’s finally properly looking at you like he used to; eyes filled with love and a little bit of mischief.

You lean in, your hands at the nape of his neck, and pull him in for a kiss. It's sweet, almost shy, like he's kissing you for the first time. He sighs into it and pulls you even closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Once you break for air, both of you panting, you lie down on the bed, pulling him down with you so he’s on top of you, and you hold his head to your chest.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Fives asks, and you can’t help the light chuckle that escapes you.

“Of course.”

You spend the next minutes in silence, just basking in each other’s presence.

“Will you tell me about us?” he asks after some time. “How we met, and how I definitely charmed you?”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

“Sure thing, I’ll tell you everything.”

~~~~~

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#goose feathers #sw clone wars #the clone wars #clone trooper x reader #star wars clone wars #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #clone trooper fives x reader #sw fives x reader #star wars x reader

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illuminatedquill · 1 year ago

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Ghost Stories #01

Feat. Sabine Wren & Hera Syndulla

Story Context: Sabine tells Hera about her decision to be trained as a Jedi and is met with a cold reception.

"You're going to do what?" asked Hera, her voice almost a shout at the end.

Sabine blinked, taken aback at the Twi'lek's response. It was certainly not the one she had been expecting. They were sitting in the Ghost's communal area; outside, the constant buzz of machinery and maintenance tools from the ship crew could be heard as the old freighter underwent some much-needed repairs.

Feeling uneasy, Sabine leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "I thought you'd be supportive," she said.

Hera massaged at her temples, grimacing. "And why would you think I'd be supportive of you being a Jedi?"

Feeling defensive, Sabine countered, "You were supportive when Ezra did it. And Kanan, too, when he decided to take up that mantle again. What makes me so different?"

"That was then. This is now," Hera replied. "This is not a good idea, Sabine."

Sabine narrowed her eyes at Hera. "Ahsoka seems to think so. You know, the actual Jedi."

"Former Jedi," Hera corrected. "And believe it or not, Ahsoka thinking so doesn't make me more convinced."

"What, you have an issue with her, too? You guys always seemed friendly to me."

"That was before Malachor," Hera shot back. "Where has she been all this time during the war? She hasn't said anything to anyone. She's different now. Less . . . I don't know, just less of herself, it seems."

Sabine couldn't argue with that. Talking with her master sometimes felt like trying to conversate with a rock. Whatever happened at that Sith Temple seemed to have robbed Ahsoka of her spirit; she seemed listless on some days, adrift from herself and others.

Desperately casting around for a change of subject, Sabine asked, "Where's Jacen?"

"With his grandfather on Ryloth," said Hera. "Don't try to change the subject, Sabine."

"Fine," Sabine snapped. "I don't understand why you're so hostile about this. It's my decision. I'm an adult. What are you going to do when Jacen starts showing an interest, huh?"

"I don't know!" Hera shouted, throwing her hands up. "I'm not - I'm not strong enough, okay?"

Sabine cocked her head at her friend. "What do you mean, 'not strong enough'?"

Hera hung her head. Hands clenching into fists, she suddenly banged them on the table. Sabine jolted in her seat from the abrupt display of anger.

"Hera?" asked Sabine quietly. "What's going on?"

"Kanan. Ezra. Ahsoka. And now - you," Hera muttered. "Maybe someday, even Jacen. I'm so sick of losing people. I'm not strong enough to lose you, too."

"Losing - what? You're not going to lose me like you did with Kanan, Hera. I promise. Ahsoka came back, too, even if she's not the same as before! She's still fighting! And Ezra's still out there."

Hera turned her face back to Sabine. The younger woman felt her heart twist, seeing the cascade of tears on the Twi'lek's face.

"You're already gone, don't you get it? I've lost you. Once you decide to take that mantle - when you add 'Jedi' to your name, it's over," Hera whispered miserably. "That's the truth of this galaxy, Sabine. Jedi die."

Sabine shook her head. "Kanan died. I know that still hurts for you. But I'm still here and I promise Ahsoka isn't going anywhere either. Neither is Jacen. I'll make sure of it myself. And I will bring Ezra back," she added fiercely.

Hera smiled bitterly. "It's better if you leave him out there. Even better if he's dead. Because if Ezra isn't dead, then that means the Force isn't done with him yet. That means Ezra is destined for more suffering. For more sacrifice and heartbreak."

The Twi'lek leaned forward, her eyes glassy with bottomless pain. "Leave him be, Sabine. Don't go looking for him anymore. If you love him at all, you'll let him go."

Sabine was silent. Then, in an icy tone, she replied, "You don't mean that, Hera. I know you don't."

Hera looked away, blinking rapidly. Then, quietly, she said, "You're right. I'm sorry."

She didn't know what to say to comfort Hera. It's clear her friend had been harboring some deep conflict over the fate of her Jedi loved ones. Sabine belatedly realized that her deciding to be a Jedi was, to Hera, probably adding to that conflict.

To that buried pain.

Jacen was destined to follow in his father's footsteps someday. Maybe Hera saw Sabine as a safe option - that she would never take up the mantle and responsibility one day and could be relied upon to never break her heart the same way that Kanan and Ezra did.

Sabine wondered if she ever had nightmares about burying her one day. Or Jacen. Or Ahsoka. Outliving them all.

She wanted to hug Hera in that moment so badly. But something in the Twi'lek's demeanor told her that it wouldn't be welcome.

She stood up and made to depart. "I'll let you get some rest, Hera. We'll talk later."

Still not looking at her, Hera gave the barest of nods in acknowledgement. Sabine turned to go -

"Sabine."

She paused at the hallway leading to the docking bay.

"Follow your heart. I'll always believe in you, no matter what."

Without turning around, Sabine said, "Thanks, Hera."

"Don't thank me," came the sad reply. "You're going to be a Jedi now. Just like Kanan and Ezra. I don't get to keep you anymore."

Sabine was quiet. Listening.

"You belong to the Force now. I know you'll do well. You always have. It's in your nature to rise and meet whatever challenges come your way."

Sabine felt touched by Hera's words, yet there was a chill in her blood from the solemn way she uttered them. Finally, she worked up the nerve to turn around and face her directly.

Hera just gazed at her, but not seeing her at all - seeing through her, was the better term.

Like she wasn't there.

Like she was already a ghost.

"You have an important role to play now, Sabine. And, just like the other Jedi I loved, you'll play it . . . to the very end."

*Author's Note: Hello! So, this is just a seed of a story. Sometimes, when I'm brainstorming ideas for Sabezra fics, I'll have these conversations/scenes between characters pop up in my head, out of context. I don't know if I'll ever include these in future fics but I've decided to just start writing them down and posting them here just to keep track of. I always have ideas bouncing inside my head for stories regarding Sabine, Ezra, and the Ghost crew in general, so there will be more of these little fic-lets, I guess the term is? Except these aren't really full-fledged stories. Just short scenes.

Anyway, the genesis for this is pretty simple: I've always been interested if Hera feels conflicted about all the Jedi in her life, seeing as though they've all been met with terrible fates. I find it odd that Hera in the Ahsoka series seems all onboard for Jacen training to be a Jedi, considering what happened to his father and Ezra (and Ahsoka, to a degree). As a mother, she has to feel some trepidation about encouraging Jacen to be a Jedi - especially in that day and age. And now with Sabine - someone who is like a daughter to her - resolving to take up the mantle of a Jedi, I wanted to write out a scene where all those buried negative feelings bursts forth. I'm realizing that this is probably veering Hera into out-of-character territory, but it makes for a really good, dramatic, and angsty conflict between her and Sabine.

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #ezrabine #star wars #ahsoka show #sabezra fanfiction #ghost stories 01

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andydrysdalerogers · 8 months ago

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Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 22

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!.

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world.,

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again?

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter 21 It's the Playoffs, Baby!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 22 - This Is MY Family

Andy

You ever had a dream you couldn’t wake up from? It starts like a normal dream but then it turns into a nightmare. I feel like that’s where I am right now. Why? Why can’t these fuckers just go away. I take a deep breath, remembering that my girls are in the house, and I don’t want to scare them.

“Why are you here?”

Monica scoffed. “Since when do you talk to me like that?”

“Since you won’t leave my family alone. I’ll ask again, why are you here?”

“Your family?” Bret growls. “No, you’re playing pretend with my family. They are mine!”

“Like fuck they are.” I narrow my eyes at them. “Tell me what you want and then get the fuck off my property, or I am calling the cops for trespassing. You both were already told you’re not welcome here.”

Monica smirks. “Fine, I’ll be blunt. I want you to leave my daughter and granddaughter. I’ll give you $2 million to walk away.”

“And why the fuck would I do that?” I laugh.

“And,” she continues as if I didn’t speak, “I won’t release these.” She has an envelope in her hand. “You can have these; I have more copies.”

I open them to see photos of myself, passed out, with pill scattered around. Another of me, looking higher than a kite. “What the fuck? These photos are a lie.”

“The press won’t know that,” Bret snarks. “At least not in time. Who knows when these photos were taken as well. You could have been stepping out on your pregnant girlfriend.” He shrugs with a sinister smile. “Hate for Leia to find out.”

“You motherfucker!” I get ready to lunge but Monica steps in front of him. “You might want to rethink that action. I’ll give you until Friday to make the correct choice.”

Friday. Three days from now. I have a game right in the middle of that. Avery has a check up on Friday. I’m starting to spiral. No, they won’t take them away from me, my girls are mine. “You can all get fucked.” I start to walk away but the next words stop me in my tracks.

“Fiona sends her regards.”

Don’t turn around. Don’t give them what they want, I chant in my head. I keep walking until I get to the front door. I make sure to watch as they drive away before I activate the camera. “Sweetheart, let me in.”

Twenty seconds later, the door flies open and she’s in my arms. “Andy,” she whimpers. She presses her face against my chest. She’s trembling.

“I’ve got you, my queen. Don’t worry.” I kiss the top of her head. “Everything is alright.” I hold her to me, relaxing into her warmth.

“What happened?” She looks up at me and I see her beautiful eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. Promise.”

“Tell me,” she presses.

I dodge her request. “Where is Avery?”

“Asleep in her crib. Andy, just tell me.”

“Not right now, love.” I pull her into a kiss which I deepen immediately. I haven’t been able to have her since the doctor cleared her. We immediately were on the road and rules are rules: the team sleeps alone. I let my hands drift down to her ass and squeeze, causing her to moan. I lick into her deeper. Fuck I need to have her. I pull back enough to breathe and grasp her under her thighs.

“Andy, what are you doing?”

“I need you, Leia. I need you so fucking bad.” I sit on our couch with her in my lap. God I can feel her hot pussy on my ever-growing cock, and she squeals as I rock her back and forth. “Can I have you?”

“Yes,” she gasps. I want you too. She starts to kiss my neck as I run my hands up her legs. She has her dress still on and all I can feel miles of smooth skin. Once I reach the apex of her thighs, I feel her tremble in anticipation. “Andy, please.”

Oh fuck. I love when she begs for me. “You like that, pretty girl?” I feel her nod. “Be a good girl and use your words.” I smell her neck and I can still smell my favorite perfume on her skin. I grow harder and she gasps, feeling my length against her heat.

“Andy, please, fuck me.”

I would be an asshole to refuse a beautiful woman. I pick her up and lay her down onto the couch. She giggles and I brush a lock of her hair away from her face. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” She shakes her head and I growl. “You are the most gorgeous creature in the world. Minus our daughter,” I add as an afterthought. I kiss her slow and soft.

“Stop teasing Barber. She’ll be awake in like 30 minutes.” Leia nips at my bottom lip and I growl at the pain. “Move your ass.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” She gives me a cheeky smile and I’m done. I sit up and pull off my hoodie and t-shirt in one go. I lift Leia up enough to pull off her dress, leaving her in just panties. And not just any panties. They are the cotton and lace ones I had picked out for her. I bite my lip to stifle a groan. I lean back down and take one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking gently. I know she is sensitive because of her milk but I also know that it drives her wild. Her hand is in my hair, holding me to her as I lick and play with her.

“Fuck Andy, I need to feel you,” she groans out.

“I’m right here, love. Tell me what you need.”

“I need to feel your tongue on my pussy.”

“Good girl.” I slide down her body and take her panties with me. She’s already wet for me, the fabric damp with her arousal. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. I love the way you taste.” I lick up her folds and moan at her taste. I lick her until I move to her clit and gently suck on it. Her body arches up and I hold her hip to bring her down. As I work her, I can feel her body trembling.

“I’m gonna cum. Shit, Andy, I’m-” I feel her release go through her body. I take everything that she gives me. I feel like I could die a happy man from her release. I bring her down slowly and release her sensitive clit. I come off of her to undo my pants, but she scrambles up and pushes me to sit. She leans over and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to swallow you whole.”

Oh, dear god, I think I might die.

She yanks off my jeans and boxers, letting my cock spring out, hard and leaking for her. She licks me from the base to the tip like a fucking ice cream cone. I moan, loudly because, fuck is it good. She suckles the tip before taking me all the way down her throat. I put my hand in her hair, but I don’t push. I don’t need to push. She works me and its fucking perfect. She reaches for my balls and starts rolling them in her finders. “Ah, fuck, Leia, baby, I’m going to cum.” But she doesn’t stop.

I grab her by the throat gently and push her back. “Stop being a brat. I don’t want to cum in your mouth, my queen. I want my cum in your cunt.”

“The doctor put in the IUD at the last appointment,” she tells me, a glint in her eye.

“And you’re just telling me now? Naughty girl.” I pick her up and throw her onto her stomach on the couch. “Ass up, my queen. Looks like you need a spanking.” I haul up her hips and rub her soft skin before dipping in between her folds.

She whines and I laugh before I spank her. “Fuck, Andy!”

“Yes, my queen.” I smack her other cheek and dip my finger into her, feeling her squeeze my fingers. “You like it, don’t you?” I smack her again and I can feel her arousal drip down my hand. She nods and I grin, I smack her one more time before I remove my fingers and guide my cock into her. She sucks in a breath as she takes me in. We’ve only had sex a couple of times, but I already know that she likes this position the best.

I slowly pump into her, holding onto her hips. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Nice and tight and warm. Wanna live here in you.”

“Andy, that cock is stretching me out so good. So big,” she pants. “Harder, please. I won’t break, I promise. Please.” I slowly pull out of her, letting her feel every vein and ridge of my cock before I slam back into her. Her resulting cry sounds so good. I do this a few times before I hear, “dammit Barber just fuck me.”

Whatever my queen wants, she gets.

I start to fuck her hard and quick. I start to feel that familiar spark in my spine. I want to explode in her but not until she reaches her peak first. I reach down to stroke her clit. “Come on, my queen. Let go. Tell me you’re there.”

“Andy, Andy, yes!” Her body squeezed my cock so hard I can’t move as she reached her climax. As I start to feel her loosen, I thrust a few more times before I moan my release and collapse on top of her. Our breathing starts to even out and she begins to giggle. “Best welcome home ever.”

I start to laugh as I roll us so I’m spooning her in my arms. I kiss her and feel her start to relax and her breathing slow. The reality of earlier starts to come back and my anxiety starts to rise. What was I going to do? I needed to make this right. The fact that Fiona is somehow involved made my blood boil. I had one ace up my sleeve, and I knew I needed to use it.

A small whimper came from the baby monitor. Leia began to stir but I whispered to her, “I’ll get her.” I gently climbed over her and went up to my daughter’s room. I found her about to start wailing. “Oh, princess, are we messy? Are we hungry?” I picked her up and cradled her. She immediately started to relax and open her big, beautiful eyes at me. “There she is; my princess.” As I walked over to her change table, I knew what my next step was. As I put her down, I grabbed my phone.

Andy: I need to meet with you

After I changed Avery, I picked her up and to calm her soft cries. “Papa will always take care of you, my sweet princess. Everything is going to be ok. I love you and your mama so much. I promise, nothing will happen to my family.”

The morning before the game, I went into the city to an old cafe that we used to frequent as teenagers. I looked over at Luke, who I’d clued into what was going on. His face was neutral. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“This needs to end. We lost our mother the day we lost dad. I won’t allow Leia to be bothered by this anymore.” I pulled up to the diner and took a breath. “Never thought I would have to see this asshole again.”

“Me neither.” We walked and walked into the back corner both. The man sitting there took the lollipop out of his mouth and smiled.

“Hey cupcake. Long time. “

Taglist:

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