#I have so much more anxiety than I thought I would

[keepingitformyself]

especially for tender ones like us

A/N: hehehehehehehehehehehehe synopsis: humor, anxiety, and the salvation of love.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: no?

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha tries not to stumble over her words when she suggests staying in, instead of going out. she does not mean to, but she does. 

how could she not? could you really blame her for wanting a quiet night? something that isn’t so public. she wanted to see you, of course, but she wanted to see you in a space you could be comfortable in, without any of the outside world and free from any distractions.  

you listen intently through the other line, you fight the giggle at catching her little stutter. she can’t see, but you smile widely at the whole thing.

“yeah, we can stay in. i can cook us dinner,” you nod. natasha’s shoulders drop in a quiet sense of relief at your words. her lips curl into a smile. “i’d like that. i can’t wait.”

although this would only be the fourth time you had met up together, to natasha, it felt like the first every single time. 

you continue talking for a little while more. natasha shares details about her day, work, and what she ate during lunch. she tells you how on her way to grab her usual coffee order, an americano, she decided she’d switch her order to a matcha latte after having had you recommend it to her. she tells you, 

“it was good, but not nearly enough caffeine for me to keep up with,” she said, her tone light but teasing. and while it hadn’t become her new favorite drink, just knowing she’d tried it for you was more than enough. her words sent your thoughts spiraling, a warmth blooming in your chest. you were certain that if she were standing next to you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss her right then and there.

but you can’t do that so instead, you just fall back on your bed like a high schooler talking to her crush. 

when you finally do meet up the following evening, natasha is buzzing with nerves she doesn't understand. she has taken down whole regimes and has fought aliens from space, yet she seems to draw the line when it comes to facing you. 

she knocks on your door, her other arm clutching a brown bag containing wine and flowers. a reasonable offering if you’re having dinner with someone you want to impress. 

when you answer the door, you're wearing a cream-colored knit sweater. 

“i thought i heard pacing out there.” you joke. 

natasha’s cheeks flush as she tries—and ultimately fails—to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “i wasn’t pacing,” she says, though the slight crack in her voice gives her away.

you step aside and invite her in, and neither of you acknowledges the quiet intimacy of the moment. it feels like more than just dinner, more than just a simple evening in your apartment.

you’re about to cook for her, and somehow, that feels monumental.

natasha’s nerves are a mess, though she can’t quite figure out why—or maybe she can. maybe it’s the way your presence makes her feel unsteady, as though the ground beneath her shifts whenever you’re near.

but natasha doesn’t want to be nervous.

she saw once—a penguin mistaking a sleeping walrus for a rock. the penguin had been caught completely off guard when the walrus stirred, nearly crushing it before it scurried away just in time.

natasha had found it funny at the time, the way surprises can sneak up on you. but now, thinking about it, it doesn’t feel so funny. it feels… unnerving.

surprises are bad for the heart, she thinks. she’s been taught her whole life to avoid them, to anticipate every possibility before it unfolds.

but knowing too much, being too prepared—that can hurt, too.

her thoughts are interrupted by your laughter, light and unburdened, as you guide her toward the kitchen. your smile is so easy, so genuine, and she can’t help but feel how good it is to exist in this space with you.

she offers to help you cook, but you shoo her away instead. you make her watch.

she sits there, with her hands on her lap, and just stares. and she can’t help the look of longing on her face. the kind of thing that suggests she wouldn’t mind this being a constant. 

you made pasta for the evening. nothing too spectacular, but natasha had treated it like you were a top chef and had spent hours crafting everything with your bare hands. 

and then once you’ve plated food for you both and you’ve gotten down to a few bites, you notice the small sigh natasha lets out. the flutter of her eyes as she takes in the meal. 

you smile at her reaction as you move some of the food with your fork. 

“do you like it?”

she looks at you, mid-chew, her mouth stuffed with the food, but she manages a smile. 

“yeah, uh, yes it’s good. it’s so good,” she says, hand over her mouth. 

you continue eating, talking about everything and anything. the night was filled with small moments that would bleed into much deeper ones. you laughed, she smiled, you smiled, she laughed. the kind of things one feels they become when around those who make you tender. 

and you don’t know how or when but you try not to notice how little by little natasha seems to retract a little. 

you decide maybe she needs a small moment for herself and start cleaning up the table. she offers to help, but you wave her off, insisting she relaxes. 

she tries to, but realistically, natasha doesn’t know how to relax. so she sits back and stares at you like she isn’t sure what to do with herself. she isn’t used to this at all. spaces like this–warm, cozy, comfortable.

the impending guilt comes. it’s all so layered. she feels so much at once. the nervousness, the anxiety, the fear of loss, the fear of not being present enough. 

natasha doesn’t know how to be here without sacrificing so much. 

after a while, natasha speaks up. 

“i should probably get going.” her voice too casual to sound like she meant it. she tries not to notice the look of disappointment on your face when you turn around to face her. 

“you don’t have to.” you find yourself saying, not wanting her to leave. 

she hums, something that says she’s already made up her mind. she gets up and gathers her things. 

you follow her to the door, or at least try to—but you pause at the end of the hall when you see her linger near the door, uncomfortably. unsure if she should leave. 

you call her out on it. “you can stay longer if you want.”

natasha wrestles with herself because she really wants to. she looks at the door as if it’d answer for her. 

you’re letting her know. 

natasha feels awkward, clammy hands. she doesn't know what she’s doing. and it’s hard to think of anything else when your eyes are screaming, don't actually leave, at her. 

you look at her carefully, trying to see if you can find any clear indication of what she may be feeling, but it isn’t hard to figure out the redhead in front of you. 

you’ve noted quite quickly how easy it comes for her walls to lower when you’re around. and if there’s anything you’ve learned from that, it’s that natasha romanoff isn’t the trained killer everyone thinks she is. 

sure we all have certain versions we show to certain people. but the natasha you know is anything but rough-edged. the natasha you’ve come to know is actually quite the opposite of what everyone else perceives. 

she’s tender, in her own silent way. too afraid to ever let too much slip away that she’s so painfully aware of everything around her. 

natasha is tenderness wrapped in quiet strength, a paradox of someone who feels deeply but guards herself fiercely. she sees the world clearly—the beauty and the harm—and carries that weight like a constant ache.

like she knows the world hurts more for those most aware of hurt. 

her tenderness isn’t soft; it’s sharp, vigilant, always bracing for the pain that comes with letting others in. you can see it in the flicker of her gaze, the way she hesitates as if expecting the world to hurt her.

and yet, she doesn’t harden. she holds onto that fragile, open part of herself, even when it would be easier not to. it’s beautiful and a little heartbreaking.

natasha looks up at you, then back down at her hands. just above a whisper, she says, 

“i don't know what i’m doing.” 

“that’s the most fun part.” you joke. she smiles, she doesn’t know how to say she wants more time. 

how could she say she feels greedy at this moment? she wants to protect being here with you. we have such little time, she thinks. 

bashfully, she steps closer to you, “i don't want to go.” she says. 

“then don’t.” and natasha almost complies. instead, she takes a step closer, her hand lifting towards your cheek. she’s so close now. 

she kisses you, soft, and shy, but you make her feel sure when your arm circles her neck, deepening the kiss altogether. when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“maybe i’ll forget my scarf,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“please do,” you replied. please leave your scarf, please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of leaving. please always come back. “that way you’ll have to come back later for it.”  

and just like that, her quiet uncertainty washes away. 

she takes her scarf off and drops it near the door. you follow her actions, you smile, amusement in your eyes. 

later that night, when natasha gets home, she texts you. 

i forgot my scarf. 

you reply, you’ll have to come get it then. 

[naffeclipse]

A Gesture Returned

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

I had so much fun writing this request by the sweet @rinzydings who wanted a Y/N reuniting with Eclipse, and bearing a very important gift (and confession)! Their Y/N is so sweet and I loved combining their character with Eclipse's. There is so much sweetness and fluff! Which is must deserved after all they've both been through. I hope you enjoy! <3

———

The gray base is stark against the icy expanse of the north pole. A structure long since frozen into its foundation and left almost lost in the piercing wind and swirling snowflakes, you glance backward at it once before leaving it behind. 

It’s been a year since you first met the orca siren. You saw him in between that time in the mild temperatures of spring, where the negative degrees weren’t as bitter with its touch and the sun rose and fell in time with a full, proper day. Now you have returned once again in autumn, in the aftermath of a summer full of endless sunlight. 

Of course, you kept busy. Other destinations called out to you, and you felt yourself rushed to find the last of the places on your must-see list to ensure you would not go without. Pictures platter the inside of your computer of beautiful landscapes beside tropical seas and sprawling cliffs.

Slowly, your gloved hand falls into your inner pocket. Touching over the thickness of your coat, you remind yourself that your gift is still there. It’s waiting for the recipient. 

Michael and Vanessa know your intentions. After a whole year of adjusting to your relationship with Eclipse, they are easing into the thought of you growing close with a siren that was once out of the realm of nightmares for them. They no longer fear for you like they once did. Your dear Eclipse and your sweet friends share far more in common than they once believed.

Your decision sits heavy on your heart—not with dread or anxiety—but with eagerness. A want to fling it out into the world and cause it to rear into realization runs through you. You dearly hope you may relieve yourself of this tension very soon.  

Eclipse is out there, somewhere. He must have caught sight of the helicopter approaching. 

You’ve learned much about Eclipse’s life and culture that you’ve gathered in your short bursts of seeing him. Courting gifts and becoming mates are important. You understand now what exactly it means to belong to him, and for him to belong to you.

For so long, he has waited in the icy waters alone. His family was dragged up in nets and gutted with spears by a horrible, wicked man named William Afton. He grew up with no kindness, warmth, or guidance. You couldn’t fault him for the tragedy that befell him, but you did grow fearful after he stole you away the first time and changed you against your will. 

Now you’ve had time to understand him. You watched him let you go, and you returned to find him waiting with open arms. 

Your gloved fingers roam over the irregular and smooth shapes of the gift you come bearing. He gave you so much. There’s something you want to give him in return. 

Vanessa and Michael might not understand everything between you and Eclipse, but they support you. 

You choose Eclipse.

Leaving the base behind, you waddle—ever the bird in Eclipse’s eye—across the frozen layers of ice that make up the great Arctic. You do not wander for long before the sea spreads dark and blue beside you. The sharp contrast of pale snow and choppy, deep waters overwhelms your sharp eye for images to capture.

You have many pictures of the ocean. Each one uses the light and angle to capture a swell of waves, the same as you experience a great rise of emotion, searching for your mate.

Emerging from the depths with a striking arch of his lithe and powerful body, Eclipse lifts his head above the sea. His stunning dorsal fin strikes high into the air, burning red and orange before melting into the lovely pattern of black and white upon his body. Even at this distance, you see his mouth full of teeth spreading into a grin.

A soft sound carries over the waves. A song of welcome. You close your eyes briefly to truly catch the sound of Eclipse’s voice over the Arctic wind and splashing waves.

You hold up your hand and wave, at last breaking into a trot as best as you can. Avoiding a dreadful plunge on the slick ground, you trek to the edge of the water. Eclipse dives down. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Eclipse!” You call as you drop to your knees beside the water. “Eclipse, I’m here!”

You lean over the slushy tide, mixing with shards of ice and blue-gray water, only to be greeted by a crescent mark face of black and white. Eclipse thrusts himself beside you, pushing onto the ice with an impressive flick of his tail. His impressive size easily dwarfs you. Minding the droplets flinging off of his sheeny body, he drapes himself along the ground before you in a dramatic presentation. 

“Birdie,” Eclipse rumbles deeply. A flare of deep joy overtakes his red and yellow eyes. His grin remains wide, and it is painful to wait for his hands to dry enough before he takes you by the arms and engulfs you in his presence. “You came back.”

“I said I would,” you answer softly. 

“You did.” He turns his face down, and with delicate effort, pushes your goggles carefully up your face. The bitter sting of the frigid air rushes your skin. To combat the dangerous cold, Eclipse captures you in a full-face nuzzle.

You softly sigh under the tender but deep fussing of his flat nose against you. He moves over you, going from cheek to cheek and even tucking himself under your chin for a moment, uncaring that your wool scarf gets in the way. His tongue slips out from between his lips to lick at your jawline. You resist a ticklish twitch, and instead, anchor him for a moment against you. Closing your eyes, you return the gesture and lay yourself entirely against his face. 

For one precious moment, Eclipse warms you.

Then he kisses you on the nose. You laugh once in quiet surprise. 

“Let me see you,” he whispers.

You hold still, your eyes squinting against the brightness of the sun shining over Eclipse as if he were waxed and polished. His body never ceases to amaze you.

Gently, he takes your hood and pushes it back. The cold quickly swirls over your head. As you learned before your first trip to the icy land, the head loses the most heat from the human body, and that is why it’s important to keep it covered.

Eclipse tenderly lifts his hand and runs his clawed fingers through your short hair. When you first met, he admired your dark strands with the blond streak you dyed into it, straight down the middle. He admired you in the way one would admire an exotic bird.

“Handsome,” he murmurs. “I missed your strange fur.”

“Hair,” you correct with a smile.

“Hair,” he echoes, before kissing the crown of your head. He reaffixes your hood over you before settling his arms over your legs and holding your gaze. “Tell me about your travels, birdie.”

You need not wait for another invitation. It’s not often you get the opportunity to ramble about your photography, but Eclipse always lends a listening ear. You’ve learned how genuine he is, as curious as you are, and just as insatiable for new, beautiful things. 

First, you tell him about Ocracoke Island. It is not the most exotic land you’ve traveled to, but it is nonetheless abundant with stunning seashells and a lively beach filled with yellow sands and green waters. Then you traveled to Shell Beach in the Australian winter. Awe Striking scenery fueled your photograph as the pale beach glistened to tiny, white shells beside an ever-endless blue sea. Then you traveled to Jeffreys Bay. The water is most gorgeous there, a pale blue-gray with rich seafoam flooding over an entire shoreline worth of shells. 

He doesn’t ask, but it’s clear that you favor tropical and seaside environments during the last six months of your travels. Eclipse has many questions when you talk of such places, such as the creatures there or what you enjoy most about visiting such environments. He draws his claws softly over your gloved hands as you continue to speak. 

Truly, he gives his full attention. Though his eyes may wander over your small fingertips or short stature, he is no less aware of what you spill from your lips.

As you finish telling him of carefully walking along Jeffreys Bay, you gently free your hand from his grasp. His eyes flare for a moment. His claws flex, watching hungrily as you reach into the inside of your coat and withdraw the most precious gift you are about to give.

“I have something for you,” you start softly, your fist curled over the offering, “It would mean so much to me if you accepted it.”

Eclipse tilts his head down, eyes crinkled in curiosity. The shine of his burning red frills catches on the sunlight. You swallow down your heart. Carefully unfurling your fingers, you present Eclipse with a courting gesture.

Laid upon your hand is a cord of strung seashells. Tiny, spiraling, and flat shells clink softly together to form a gradient of deep red, burnt orange, periwinkle, soft baby blue, and pure frost. Six months you spent finding the precise colors. The ones of Eclipse, and the ones that were on your tail when he had changed you into a siren. Those cool, soft colors never quite left your head.

Neither has Eclipse left your heart.

The gravity of the gesture is not lost on you as you study Eclipse’s wide eyes and gaped mouth. He reaches out as if handling thin ice, and strokes the shells with his clawed fingertips. The seashells are tiny but solid. A musical clink echoes at Eclipse’s brush of his hand, and he lifts his eyes.

“I accept,” he answers in a low, powerful voice.

Your entire being flutters, warm and reassured.

“May I?” you ask softly, lifting the cord and carefully taking the ends. “It’s meant to be worn… if you want to wear it.”

“Birdie, I desire nothing more than to display your gift on my body.” His declaration sends a sweeping heat into your cheeks. 

“Your hand,” you say, your eyes filling with misty tears.

He obeys, offering his arm. You level him out to expose his wrist. Slipping the bracelet of seashells around the sinew-packed bones, you deftly tie it and ensure the cord will not unravel anytime soon. 

“You gave me many gifts during our courtship,” you say deliberately. You lean back to admire it upon his wrist. “I wanted to return the gesture in kind.”

His hand clenched as if to contain emotion within his fist. He holds his hand and twists it this way and that, watching the seashells swing slightly against his shiny skin.

“This means much to me, birdie,” Eclipse lowers his gaze at last to you. His chest puffs up with pride. The glow in his gaze is as soft as candlelight. “I will treasure it.”

“I’m glad…” you say, holding back something behind your tongue that stings and causes your entire body to squirm.

In the moment your eyes dart away from him, heavy with words you can’t yet dislodge, a claw curls carefully under your chin. A spark fires in your chest. Gently but firmly, Eclipse lifts your head to look deep into your eyes. His constant grin thins into concern.

“What is troubling you?”

Your throat bobs softly. His eyes dart once to your gift before returning to you, and for a moment, a shine of fear returns to his gaze. The same as when you told him you had to leave the very first time.

You answer quickly but softly, “I’ve never stopped thinking of you, and I've never stopped caring for you, Eclipse.”

His expression softens like the sky in the morning after a wicked blizzard. His claw carefully draws along your bottom lip.

“My little siren,” he rumbles, but there’s a hint of melancholy in the endearment. “How precious you are.”

“I've come to a decision.” A fluttering erupts within you, and you slowly reach out to hold tight to his arm. “Eclipse, I want to stay with you.

You watch in both awe and whirling emotion as Eclipse is struck dumb. His jaw drops. His eyes flare wide open. His touch upon you slackens as if he were about to slip back into the water in his stupor, but instead, he looks at you as if seeing you again for the first time.

A fist squeezes your heart, and you forget to breathe. Is it too late? Does he still want to have you?

“I’m… I’m…” The apology fumbles on your tongue as you try to turn away, but Eclipse grabs you tighter, stopping you in your tracks.

Then you feel the tremors in his hand. Ripples of emotion take over his strong and sleek body, falling down his shoulders and into the very flukes of his tail. His eyes burn deeply.

“You will stay with me?” he asks, caught somewhere between disbelief and wonder. “Truly, birdie?”

“Yes,” your voice almost cracks. “I love you. I want to be with you as a siren.”

Saying the words frees something within you. The pulse pounding in your ears calms. Eclipse’s hand upon your chin softens into a tender touch. He leans very close. In a gentle brush of his sea-salt-tinged lips, he kisses you deeply. His fervor almost pushes you back, but his arms wrap around and hold you perfectly in place.

He breaks the kiss softly. 

“I love you, my mate.” He tilts your head softly as he nuzzles your cheek. “When you are ready, I will take you into the water.

Your heart sways within you. It is difficult to not recall how frigid and consuming the Arctic is, and the panic you felt underneath the water. But this is different.

He loves you truly. He let you go, and you step back willingly into his arms. 

“I will make it quick, birdie,” he whispers, “I am yours eternally.”

You smile before caressing his face, touching the corner of his mouth, and feeling the slipperiness of his black and white skin. 

“And I’m yours,” you smile.

With gentle reverence, Eclipse helps you undress. You urge him to hurry once the cold begins to attack your skin. Mentally, you must brace yourself once more for the cold of the water. Eclipse cradles you close against his body as you shiver violently in the sub-zero temperatures.

He bows over you, and with a conjuring of a song from deep within his chest, magic fills the air with the force of thunderous waves. It fills you as he presses his lips to your mouth, and together, you slip under the surface. 

Your courting gift of seashells sways around his wrist in the water.

The power of his magic takes you gently out of a world of footsteps and leg strides and into a body fit for cutting through storms and sailing through seas. The colors upon your fluke tips are the same as you remember. This time, you allow him to remove the last of your clothing. Completely bare, transformed, and magically thriving, you are reborn.

He embraces you. The length of his tail easily surpasses your own, and you are held safe as he kisses you within the frozen brine.

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart 8 i can’t wait 💕💕

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG…part 9 is already in the making!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.

rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / damian priest x reader (platonic) / drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️this chapter contains topics like fear of abandonment, negative thoughts, loneliness, panic attacks, fear of rejection, paranoid reader, anxiety, angst in general‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 8

it was bad blood weekend and you were a nervous wreck. you didn’t know why but you had a sixth sense, feeling that it was going to be bad. in your mind you saw rhea and damian losing. you saw drew and punk destroying each other and you were terrified because you couldn’t do anything to prevent all of that. it was just your imagination - you told yourself - but as the days passed, your feelings got worse and in less than two hours from the start of the show, you were completely terrified.

adam forbid you to go and help rhea, meaning that she was alone out there. you knew she didn’t need your help to win a match, especially against liv morgan, but you never knew what the judgment day was up to.

you saw how drew trained himself this week, you knew he was ready for the match, but having him, alone, in a cell with punk, was scaring you. he told you multiple times that no matter the outcome, he would make punk see hell, and by now, you knew that drew was serious. he didn’t care about winning or losing, he wanted this to be a revenge on punk, for costing him the world title.

as you were all backstage, you could feel the tension. drew tried to stay calm, especially seeing how agitated you were, but truth was, he wasn’t calm either. he was ready for that match.

the hell in a cell match was going to be the first one, probably the most anticipated match of the night.

“be careful out there okay?” you whispered as he finished getting ready.

“i will, i promise” he tried to reassure you but you didn’t really believe him.

chuckling, you looked up at him “you won’t, i know you…i already see blood and tears so please, don’t be the one i see bleeding in my imagination” you tried to be sarcastic but deep down you know that there was a huge possibility of drew coming back with blood and deep cuts.

“well, then you have a large imagination” he joked “i can’t promise you that but i promise you that i’ll be careful okay?” he smiled down, trying to reassure you as best as he could.

rhea and damian were both getting ready for their matches so they weren’t watching punk and drew completely destroying each other, meaning you were left alone in your little changing room watching the show on the tv screen in front of you.

drew wasn’t careful. you saw blood during the first fifteen minutes of the match. both men were heavily bleeding. you wished they stopped at the tables and chairs but they both went too far. you could hear the crowd cheering but there was an heavy tension backstage, as if this wasn’t supposed to happen.

of course you knew there was going to be blood and a lot of brutality but for a minute you thought that it was too much. thirty minutes into the match and both men had no intention of stopping. more blood, more violence, more gore. you quickly left your changing room and walked around backstage, you had no intention of finishing that match.

you tried, but seeing drew like that was too much for you.

“girl where are you going?” you heard jey’s voice calling you when he saw you wandering around with nowhere to go “come here!” he gently smiled and pulled you into a bigger locker room. him and few people of the crew were watching the match.

“oh god…” you whispered seeing how badly injured was drew. you saw the big jump he took on the metal stairs and how hard he hit his back. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to get that image out of your head - he broke his back - you thought - it’s over for him. you didn’t care who was going to win, you just wanted the match to be over. luckily a few minutes later, punk finished his moves on drew, making him the winner of the match.

you could see that neither of the men were able to stand properly. punk fell on his knees and drew was still trying to catch his breath inside of the ring. it was an hell of a match but it was too much for you. you just wanted to get to drew and hug him, comfort him.

you excused yourself from jey and the rest of the crew and sprinted out towards the entrance but security stopped you, telling you that drew needed to be medicated first.

your mind was racing. rhea was getting ready for her match. damian was getting ready for his match. drew was being medicated somewhere in the backstage and you were standing there alone with your thoughts as people kept working around you. you felt small, too small.

you didn’t care - you needed to know how drew was doing so you walked towards the medical area and when you saw him getting his wounds cleaned, your stomach turned on you.

drew saw you and he weakly smiled at you, aiming for you to come in.

you didn’t know what to say. he didn’t know what to say. but the sight of blood made you sick so you tried to look anywhere in the room expect him.

“y/n…” his rough voice called you.

“hey…” you walked a little closer till you sat down next to him “you promised me that you would have been careful” you joked, making him slightly chuckle.

“i’m here, alive…that’s a promise” he smiled, looking at you.

“you got everyone worried…you got me so fucking worried, drew i thought i lost you” you didn’t mean to sound so weak, you didn’t mean to let everyone in the room know about your relationship but you couldn’t help your emotions.

“hey…i’m okay, i’m here…just some cuts but i’m okay, i promise you” drew reassured you to keep you calm but deep down he knew he failed. he wanted to show you he was capable of doing it but he failed and he was ashamed of himself. he knew that you would have never judged him but that wasn’t what his mind was telling him “hey y/n…do you mind if i rest a little bit? i feel like i just need to close my eyes” he wanted - needed - your comfort but he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

you were taken aback from his demand but you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. after what he just been through, he needed to rest, he needed time for himself “absolutely…let me know if you need anything okay?” he smiled softly kissing your cheek before letting you go.

feeling a little down you hoped to meet either damian or rhea backstage but none of them was anywhere to be found.

damian was next and he was about to enter the ring so you sat backstage and watched the match with a little anxiety as he was going to face finn. after everything he put you through you knew that all you wanted to see was damian destroying finn but the judgment day was going to interfere and he was there all alone. anxiously you watched the match and couldn’t help your happiness the moment he won. even if the judgment day tried to help finn, they all failed miserably and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as time passed you waited for rhea’s match. she trained so hard for this moment and you knew that she was more than ready to fight back. she had this match, she had this moment and no one was going to take it away from her, especially liv. she didn’t have dom’s help and she was there all alone. you knew rhea was going to win. she had to win. it was such an easy match for her, plus seeing dom in that cage made you laugh - he had what was coming for him.

so what did go wrong?

no one expected to see raquel back. she wasn’t in the script, she wasn’t in the plan.

rhea won by disqualification but liv still held the title, she still held the crown and no matter how good rhea was, she knew it would have been hard to get her title back.

you stayed there, watching as liv and raquel along with dom celebrated over rhea’s lost and your heart broke for her even more. she didn’t deserve all of that.

wondering what to do, you let rhea have some time for herself before you could join her in her changing room.

around fifteen minutes passed and you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to see her, to comfort her and to let her know that she did amazing no matter the outcome. seeing the two most important people of your life losing on the same day made your heart sank.

slowly approaching her changing room, you softly knocked on her door and stepped in when she said so.

but she probably wasn’t expecting to see you because her nose scrunched a little too much for your liking.

“rhea…you were so great out there, you had the match in your hands…” she didn’t even let you finish.

“yeah but i lost. again, once again i don’t have my title, so who cares if i was the best one out there? listen, i need time alone” she was clearly upset and you couldn’t blame her.

“rhea…” you whispered. it pained you seeing her talking so low of herself.

“i don’t wanna talk” she spat back.

“rhea…”

“no! i don’t wanna talk! i don’t wanna talk or see you!” - oh, she was mad but with you?

“rhea what?” you weren’t used of her screaming at you, you weren’t used of fighting with her.

“i lost! i fucking lost against that liv morgan and where were you? i needed you, but you weren’t there?” she waited a few seconds before start screaming at you again “where the fuck were you!” this version of rhea scared you.

“rhea you knew i couldn’t! the management said…”

“i don’t give a shit about what they said! i needed you and you weren’t there! i’m always here for you and for one time where i needed your support, you weren’t there! fuck!” she knew better than to scream at you, knowing she would have triggered some memories of your past but anger was taking the best of her and she didn’t care about you or anyone at the moment.

“rhea i’m sorry…” tears in your eyes.

“i don’t care! now go, i need to stay alone!” she said turning her back on you.

you slowly walked away, letting all of your tears fall down.

you needed to talk with someone, anyone yet drew was probably sleeping and damian wasn’t answering his phone, too busy celebrating his victory.

you were alone - again.

liv was right. finn was right. you would ended up being alone. rhea was going to leave and it was just a matter of time.

you needed to leave the arena as soon as possible.

you felt like the space around you was suffocating you. the air was thick and you struggled breathing. what was going on?

walking fast through the corridors, you took a deep breath when you saw one of the emergency exit and the big orange door right in front of you. quickly pushing the door open, you took a deep breath when you felt the cold air hitting your face, you were free - you thought.

but your chest was still heavy and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

you took your phone out of your pocket and quickly called damian, hoping he was going to answer this time. “come on damian…please, please…” but you were met again with his voice recording saying to leave a message if needed. where was he?

you needed to go back to the hotel as soon as possible but with no rental of your own was pretty hard. wiping your tears away and calling an uber, you tried to act as everything was normal even if you were slowly dying inside. everything was so wrong and the worst part is that you couldn’t do anything about it.

as if the night wasn’t already ruined, the uber driver was a fan. you didnt mind talking with fans - you could talk about wrestling all day long - but your mind wasn’t in the right place at the moment and all you could focus on was the fact that once again you were alone. you tried to be polite but all you wanted was to get away from that small space and breathe fresh air again. as you got out, you couldn’t help the tears falling down your cheeks. you felt pathetic, crying over nothing. the words liv and finn said to you echoing in your head - how you would ending up being alone - and the things was you started to believe them.

why were you being so paranoid? drew was sleeping, the match took a big tool on him but that didn’t mean he hated you or he didn’t want to see you. damian was celebrating his victory somewhere with his family, friends and probably some models too. but if you were family too, why didn’t he invite you? and rhea was mad. you still couldn’t point out if she was mad because she lost the match and needed someone to blame or if she genuinely was mad at you for not interacting with her during the game. she knew you couldn’t. she knew that if you intervened, both of you would have gotten in big trouble with the management, risking up to month fine without wrestling. did she really wanted that?

your mind was spinning and you tried to reach your bedroom as fast as you could.

in the meantime, damian was at the arena, he didn’t leave, he stayed there the whole time finishing up some interviews and even if he wanted to go out and drink something with his family, he was tore down and all of his body ached - he couldn’t wait to go back to bed.

“…thank you so much damian” jackie thanked him once he finished his interview, leaving him there in his changing room.

taking a deep breath, he took his phone out of his pocket and grew immediately worried when he saw all of your missed calls.

he tried to call back but your phone went immediately on silent mode, as if it was turned off.

weird - he thought - you never turned your phone off.

walking to find rhea, she was nowhere to be found. he knew she was a hothead and he knew that she probably wanted to stay alone.

his only option was drew and he prayed the man was still in the arena. someone from the staff told him that drew was still in the medical bay so he walked over there, asking from time to time if anyone had seen you.

knocking on drew’s door, the scottish man let him in.

“damian…” drew definitely wasn’t expecting him. he was hoping it was you.

“how are you man?” damian genuinely concerned about drew’s condition after the rough match he had in the cage with punk.

drew chuckled a little before letting his real thoughts out “i’m glad to be alive you know? i wasn’t expecting this much violence but it was one hell of a match, i felt better to be honest” he joked “i’ll be okay, thanks…”

“listen man, have you seen y/n? she called me a few times earlier and i couldn’t answer but when i tried to call her back it goes straight to her voicemail…” damian directly asked drew.

drew knew you never turned your phone off so he was taken aback from damian’s words “i saw her once the match was over, she came here and we talked a little bit…then i asked her if…well, i asked her if she could leave, i wanted to sleep a little…”

“and…?”

“and she left. she probably wasn’t expecting my request” drew took a deep breath “i just needed some time alone you know? i haven’t seen her since then, but i checked my phone a few minutes ago and she hasn’t called me. have you tried rhea?”

damian shook his head “rhea is nowhere to be found. she needs time to cool off after her match, i don’t think she saw y/n…i just feel like it’s weird, she has called me five times and now her phone is like dead…” worried look painted his face.

drew stood up immediately from the couch he was sitting and checked damian’s phone as he tried to call you once again.

“dead line…” damian whispered.

where were you?

back at the hotel, you quickly paced around the room, trying to focus on something, anything that could have helped you relax and yet nothing was working.

your hands began shaking and while you reached for your phone, you saw that it died while you were walking to the hotel. looking for a charger, you threw your suitcase upside down and when you found it, you plugged it into the wall and rapidly waiting for your phone to turn on.

“come on…” you whispered. you didn’t know what you were actually waiting for. damian wasn’t going to answer anyway and drew said he needed time for himself, leaving you with no options at all.

as your phone turned on, you saw the missed calls from both damian and drew and a shaky breath left your lips.

you didn’t even have time to call one of the boys back that an incoming call from drew appeared on your home screen.

taking a deep breath you answered his call.

“y/n?” drew asked the moment you answered.

“drew…” your voice shaking. what were you crying for? he answered and yet you couldn’t find peace.

“y/n, what’s going on? baby, why are you crying?” drew’s heart broke when he heard your soft sobs from the phone.

“i…i don’t know, i don’t know what’s going on…drew i, i can’t breathe…i don’t know what to do…” clearly panicking again, drew needed to know exactly where you were.

“y/n where are you? i’m coming to get you” he was worried and his heart was racing.

“what? no, no drew you need to rest, i…you stay there and-…”

“cut the bullshit y/n, where are you?” he hated being so severe with you but he needed to know what was going on and if you were in any type of danger.

“at the hotel…my room” was all that you were able to say before drew spoke again.

“we are coming to get you…” he said before cutting the call off.

was he really coming for you? were you really so pathetic that you needed him? did you wake him up just because you were acting stupid again?

your mind couldn’t stop those horrible thoughts and all you wanted to do was disappear, pretend like you never existed - maybe everyone life would be better without you.

what if rhea had a better teammate? what if that teammate would have broken the rules for her? what if you are the reason the judgment day broke up? were they really so tired of you? what if drew had a girlfriend who was normal and not acting crazy like you did?

you tried to breath as drew taught you but you couldn’t. and the idea of drew seeing you like this again was killing you. you made so much progress and now you felt like you fucked everything up.

you were sat on the floor, your back on the edge of the bed as you tried to calm yourself down when you heard the hotel room door opening.

a very bruised drew sat on the floor with you, right in front of you while damian stood behind, clearly worried about you.

“y/n…baby, what’s wrong?” drew’s voice was soft. the moment he met your eyes, he knew something wrong had happened.

“i’m sorry…i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have called, damian you don’t have to be here…you should be out celebrating your victory and-…”

but damian wasn’t agreeing with you “the hell? hermosa, what’s going on? i’m sorry i didn’t answer before but i’m here now, we are both here…”

“yes that’s the problem! you shouldn’t be dealing with me! you have a life and worse problems than to stay here with me!” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling “i told you drew, my head is a fucking mess, i don’t deserve you, i don’t deserve any of you…all i do is complain and fucking up, i’m just a burden to everyone and”

“what the heck are you talking about darling…look at me” his big calloused hands gently lifted your face “look at me love” while his thumb was wiping your tears away “i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, i wish i knew but i don’t…” he spoke softly to you “you’re not a burden, listen to me, you’re not a burden. don’t listen to what those voices in your head are saying, listen to me…you’re everything to me, i love you so much and it’s okay to cry, to feel lost, but i’m here, your family is here and we aren’t leaving you…” he really hoped that you could listen to him.

opening his arms for you, he gently let you lay your head on his shoulder. his hands stroking your back as if he wanted to calm you down, knowing how much you craved for physical touch.

drew and damian knew that you needed help and they were both right there for you. they knew you were strong and yet so fragile. they knew the toxic environment you came from, they knew that you feared of being left behind, alone. they knew that somehow, no matter how much love they showed to you, you still felt alone. and they knew that you get easily overwhelmed by the smallest things. people screaming, making too much noise or breaking things - that would wake terrible memories.

“yet she did…” you whispered, closing your eyes because the idea of your mind playing flashbacks of what happened with rhea earlier was enough to send you on the edge.

“who?” damian asked.

“rhea…she left, and it’s all on me” tears couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

damian and drew exchanged a worried look. you two were practically inseparable.

what did rhea do?

[lilislegacy]

aww, i’m getting war flashbacks 🥰

this is both my most successful post on tumblr and my least favorite post of all time. simply because of how much pure hatred i got for it. i received sooo many asks and messages insulting me and telling me to get off the app. someone literally sent me an ask and told me to shoot myself. (that was fun!) it was before i was an experienced poster, and therefore didn’t know how much i need to justify some statements

people were mad about two things:

1) that i implied that percy would drink. which i understand, because of gabe. and i can admit that yes, he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer and might not drink it. but also i think it’s ignorant to think we can predict percy’s behavior—literally one of his defining traits is being unpredictable. and oftentimes, the assumption relies on him associating drinking with bad people, but sally drinks wine on a daily basis and he’s completely good with it, so that idea doesn’t really hold up. anyway, yeah, maybe percy wouldn’t drink. i can totally see that. but also percy deserves to be a normal college kid and not let his past trauma define his potential experiences. if he was with annabeth and his friends, i can totally see him having a drink or two and letting loose. i just want him to be allowed to be a normal irresponsible teenager/young adult for once. sue me 😭

2) i referred to him as a frat boy. and wow did that get taken out of context. which is definitely my fault, for not clarifying. i didn’t mean he’s actually a frat boy, because obviously new rome isn’t gonna have greek life lol. i also wasn’t implying that he’s stupid or superficial or an asshole. i just said that because in heroes of olympus, when percy is around jason, there’s a lot of sizing each other up, joking around, and heavy bromance going on. like i can’t even count how often percy says “bro” and “dude.” which is very frat boy. and i think if percy was in a college setting, not stressed or in near-death situations all the time, and around more people like jason, there’s a good chance he would be a more fun and easy going person than what we often see. when percy is actually comfortable in his environment (which isn’t often) he seems to be more extroverted. but idk maybe he would be shy? who knows. it was just a little thought

so anyway, definitely not my best-phrased post. i would do it differently, now. but its fun remembering how much pure anxiety this post filled me with as angry people rained down hell on me 😂

imagine being someone at new rome university and not knowing percy is the same guy as “percy jackson, son of poseidon, two-time hero of olympus, former praetor” because the thought doesn’t even cross your mind. like… he’s percy. he’s a total frat boy. on a normal night, he walks into a party, refers to everyone as bro or dude, socializes with every living (and not-living) person in the room, makes at least 50 sarcastic comments, plays 12 rounds of beer pong, drinks way too much, and then skates around campus on his skateboard yelling “I LOVE NEW YORK” (which makes no sense, because they’re in california) until someone calls his girlfriend to come get him.

and then one day there’s an attack, and frat boy percy is all of a sudden a fighting machine. he’s yelling battle cries alongside the praetors frank zhang and hazel levesque as they lead everyone into battle. (why is he with the praetors? and why…. why in the world do the praetors seem to be following his lead?) his sword slashes through armies of monsters faster than you’ve ever seen. he’s controlling the entire river surrounding the camp, creating huge waves as tall as skyscrapers that crash down all around him, wiping out monsters and causing mass destruction to his enemies’ ranks. the sky is suddenly dark above you, ice-cold water droplets are slashing through the air, and the wind is blowing so aggressively that it’s making it hard to stand up steadily. because he’s somehow created a hurricane.

and he looks terrifying. you can feel the power radiating off of him. he’s like a god. or maybe a monster. it’s hard to tell. you’re a little scared of him, to be honest. but also in total awe, because it’s extraordinary. he’s extraordinary.

frat boy percy is not who you thought he was.

[vanishingstarrs]

loss of my life ( k. bakugo x reader, anxiety, depression, mourning, stages of grief, character death mentioned, some self deprecation OR your boyfriend laments the loss of his life and struggles through the reality of being the one left alive ) ( and what if i was feeling sad ) ( i’m actually so sorry omg xx ) ( play loml by taylor swift if u want this to hit extra hard </3 )

The sky was crying.

Katsuki Bakugo disliked nothing more than the rain, the whole concept of it made him feel extremely weak— useless. Not only did the heavy downpour make it harder for him to produce sweat and therefore harder to use his quirk, but being drenched made everything much slower and heavier, so cold and lifeless. He never understood what you liked about it so much.

Not until he was sitting on a bench, tears and rainwater blurring his vision, the two liquids blending together and making it hard to distinguish whether he was crying. He tilted his head back, letting the water pelt against his skin as he finally released his breath.

For a moment… it almost felt like the clouds were doing all the hard work for him, he didn’t even have to cry. A sudden crackle of thunder snapped against the sky, screaming so he didn’t have to, angry for him over life’s injustice.

He didn’t understand it. And then he did.

He could understand why you’d sit at the window for hours, staring out at the rain with a serene look in your eyes, your whole body at ease.

The text cursor blinked up at him mockingly as he remained frozen, looking at his phone, your contact pulled up. It was still favorited on his phone. He hit call after a few seconds, letting the other phone in his hands (one he paid for solely so he could keep doing this) go on and on, the special ringtone you’d picked out specifically so you’d know it was him calling played out. Over the speaker he heard it… your voice.

“Hey! It’s Y/N, I’m off saving the world right now so leave it at the beep and I’ll call back… or not ‘cause I hate phone calls… unless you’re my boyfriend… I’ll text ya! Okay bu— beeeeep.”

The recording cut off before you could fully say bye in that signature cute way that was simply so you, it was more of a buh-bye, with you dragging out the final vowel. If anyone else had said it that way he would’ve found it annoying, told them to speak normal. With you… well, he thought anything that you did endearing.

He wished he’d been strong enough to save you.

His finger twitched, and before he knew it his whole hand was shaking. He stared helplessly at it while his heart went haywire inside his chest.

Dying… he was definitely dying. He was dying and he would get to see you again—

“Kacchan?”

It was overwhelming. The tightening in his chest, the sense of nostalgia washing over him, the longing he felt for someone whose blood had run cold months ago.

A familiar voice broke him out of his reverie, Katsuki looked up to meet green eyes.

How he wished they were yours… he’d often get lost in the world behind your eyes, picturing where life would lead the both of you, together.

“What are you doing out here? You hate the rain.”

He was crying.

It was obvious to his childhood friend, even with the rain trying to disguise it. Izuku Midoriya knew him like the back of his hand, and he knew how much he was hurting with your loss.

“I know you don’t feel like celebrating right now, why don’t we go back inside?” Deku continued,“I’ll walk you to your room.”

He’d rather be in yours… a room now empty, it used to be filled with all your things— books, knickknacks, posters on the walls, photos you’d force him to take that he secretly loved being in because it meant you felt he was worth remembering for years to come… he used to love spending time in your dorm if not only for your scent, being enveloped in it made him feel warmer than he’d ever known before…

“She’s gone.” He finally spoke.

You really were gone. You weren’t coming back. You wouldn’t appear once more someday, jumping up from behind him to yell “sike” and laugh off just how good you’d gotten him. You’d never hold his arm again, or force your freezing cold hands under his shirt. Never text him from across the classroom how much you missed him despite having spent the whole morning in his room, getting ready and taking over his whole bed with your makeup. You wouldn’t whine about making the wrong shoe choice for the day and wait for him to begrudgingly let you jump on his back for him to carry you back to the dorms. He’d never hear your annoying laugh again, or stare at the little mole you had under your left eye. The days of flushing in embarrassment when you forced a bit of pda on him in the hallway before class were gone, and so were your secret moments behind closed doors. There was no more holding back, he was crying again.

He wouldn’t see you again.

Izuku gulped, frowning deeply,“I’m so sorry, Kacchan…”

He looked up, eyes somber.

You were the loss of Katsuki Bakugo’s life.

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

Good Sense

Summary: Hunter gets a migraine in the middle of the night and goes looking for solace.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None

A/N: So, I haven’t posted anything for like two years but I wanted to write for Hunter because I finally got to sit down and watch the Bad Batch seasons 2 and 3 and I’m currently obsessed! I hope you like it!

Please don't copy my work

***

A thud woke you.

Shooting up, you searched the softening darkness for the source of the dull clunk. Slowly, your eyes moulded a familiar silhouette from the gloom. Familiar, welcome, but worrying all the same.

You swung your legs off of your bunk and whispered, "Hunter?"

He flinched and a pang of anxiety wrung your heart. His frame was hunched, one hand clinging to the wall to steady himself. The lines of his shoulders were tense and trembling like puppet strings pulled taut to breaking point.

The anxious knot in your chest only tightened as you made out his expression. His brow creased, eyes squeezed shut and jaw strained. Every one of his handsome features contorted in pain.

"I'm sorry!" His voice was faint, barely there as he leant his head against the wall. His eyes squinted open and floundered, trying to find you. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm glad you did," you murmured, keeping your tone low. "Migraine?" you asked, moving toward him with arms held out. His trembling fingers dug into your forearms when he found them, an involuntary admission of the agony he was in. You sensed more than saw him nod, then felt his forehead lean against yours.

"It's bad," he conceded, barely concealing a whimper, "I can't see, or think, or-!"

Hushing him, you brushed a feather-light hand across his cheek, wiping a tear and smoothing his hair out of his face. His skin was clammy to the touch. "Come here."

You led him to sit down on your bunk. If it had been light, you might never have dared. You still weren't sure what existed between you and Hunter. He was entrancing, had been since you first encountered the squad. The softspoken soldier had piqued your interest from day one, and sometimes you wondered if he wasn't equally intrigued by you, but war and turmoil had a nasty habit of putting these kinds of things on hold.

Still, sitting here in the night with his head turned to your shoulder, Hunter was a far cry from the exacting sergeant, the authoritative leader you had gotten to know. Tonight, he was more vulnerable and perhaps more honest than you'd ever seen him.

"Drink," you instructed, pressing a canteen into his grasp and easing yourself out. While he complied, you rummaged in the small drawer beneath your bed that the Batch had graciously called yours. "Take," you said, holding out your recovered pain killers.

Hunter shook his head, only slightly but the motion clearly sent an extra spasm of pain through his skull. "They won't do anything."

"You won't know until you take them."

He hesitated, unused to hearing that kind of authority in your tone but he looked away and swallowed the pills without protest. You tucked your legs back up onto the bunk, shifting your pillow onto your knee as Hunter wiped a bead of water from his mouth and clenched his eyes shut again.

"Lay down," you breathed, guiding him with a gentle hand to rest his head in your lap. He was too exhausted to argue. You wondered whether he would have done, but he heaved a sigh and you pulled your blankets over his coiled frame. It seemed the most natural thing in the world when your fingers threaded themselves through his hair and soothed to and fro in tide-like rhythm. Through the gloom, you fancied you saw his features soften and in time, his breaths evened out into slumber.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," you weren't sure if the thought made it past your lips or not but it twisted in your heart. Hunter didn't stir, even when your hands moved to trace the dark curves of his tattoo. For the first time since you’d met, he looked truly at peace; it struck you how much younger he looked.

Too constant was his demeanour, too anxious, too utterly responsible for every detail. Hunter was a good leader, the best. He knew his squad and cared for them more than anything. He knew their skills, their limits, and everything in between. They all knew he would burn himself to keep them warm, and he was doing.

Yes, you were in a tight spot. The Empire’s fist closed rapidly on system after system and it was getting harder and harder to lay low. Yes, you needed to be careful but just today on a simple supply run, you’d seen Hunter drive his senses to their extremities. You’d seen the way his eyes darted like a cornered animal while every sight, smell, sound, and taste bombarded his mind. The was his hands shook and each step betrayed anguish.

There was being cautious, then there was this.

But right now, he was resting. You forced your mind to focus on the weight of his head in your lap and the ebbing rhythm of his breath moving against your thigh. Now he was sleeping with your hand on his cheek and a soft smile gracing his careworn expression. Right now, he was safe and slumbering.

Right now, you could keep him that way.

The darkness weighed heavy on your eyelids and the solid warmth of Hunter’s body next to yours pulled you down to your own drowsy repose. Head resting against the wall of your bunk, the shadows coaxed you back into their nighttime realm. The last thing clinging to your consciousness was Hunter’s soft skin against your palm.

Sleep was warm and dreamless and when you woke to movement, a faint tint of morning lightened the dim space.

Hunter sat on the other end of your bunk, hands gripping the edge and his feet on the ground. His wary gaze flickered over your face. “Sorry for waking you… again.”

You sat up, hugging the pillow where Hunter had lain against your tummy. “It’s okay,” and it was, the veil of fatigue evaporated like dew in the sun. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded but didn’t look up. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

You narrowed your eyes, tucking your knees up and sitting forward against the pillow. “Why did you?”

A teasing smile played at the corner of your mouth and to your delight, when he caught your eye, a similar one tugged at his.

“I don’t know,” he huffed, your eyes didn’t leave his face, “the boys are great but they’ve never had much control of volume!” At the sound of your laughter, his own smile grew. “I mean can you imagine waking Wrecker in the middle of the night? Or the lecture I’d get from Tech and Echo?”

You fought to suppress mirth, mindful of your aforementioned ship-mates still sound asleep in their own bunks.

“I guess I just needed someone more peaceful.”

That caught you off guard, more so the look in his eyes when he said it, and the way his smile softened. Hunter’s gaze could be piercing, expectant, even threatening to those who posed danger to people he loved, but this was the first time you’d seen it contented. Perhaps before you might have looked away, intimidated by their intensity, but that honey-gold amber had never felt more inviting.

A soft smile graced your lips. “I’m glad you came.”

You murmured the words into the silence that hung between you, both a blanket of comfort and a veil of security.

“Me too.”

For a moment, Hunter looked like he wanted to say something more but good sense won out.

“I should go,” he made to stand. You caught him.

“It’s still early.” Until today there hadn’t existed a world where you could have been this brave yet perhaps this dawn would rise on a new one. You didn’t let go of his hand. “The others won’t be up for hours yet,” you continued, easing him back to sit, “and besides, you could use the rest.”

Hunter smiled, “Wouldn’t want that lecture from Tech, would we?”

You gave your nonchalant assent and Hunter caved.

Good sense couldn’t save him a second time.

***

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment and let me know if you’d like to be tagged when/if I write more Hunter stuff.

Love you guys!

[afreakingdork]

Hi-a Miss Dork! I just wanna say I absolutely adore your writing (and you’re one of my biggest inspirations on this site)! Anywizzle! I noticed your little requests thing, and figured I’d conquer my social anxiety to send this. 

In light of my recent adventures last weekend where I tried to fist fight one of my friends twice my size, would you be interested in a little drabble with our beloved purple boy and a s/o who’s had a little too much to drink, like world is spinning and all types of filters are gone as they speak the first thoughts on their mind kind of drunk. And he’s kind of amused, kind of worried as they stumble around talking nonsense and try to make themselves another drink they clearly shouldn’t have. 

Hope you have a great day/night! 

*In batman voice* “Justice.”

Writing Request: Drunk Reader x Donnie 🍺

Thank you so much! It sounds like you had a great weekend and I ope you enjoy this as well!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Teen rated drunken mischief below!

You were gone.

Donnie had just located you and you were gone.

You had to be somewhere.

You couldn't just vanish.

Unless you had one of Leo's emergency portals which, without question, Donnie needed to get away from you in these circumstances.

The fact that he even considered removing your emergency exit talked to what a blight this night was.

You had gone out with friends. It was not an uncommon occurrence. You had been dating far long enough for him to become more than secure. He enjoyed that you were happy and liked to go out with your buddies. You always came home a tipsy snuggle bug which made it more than worth his while; these were all average events.

What wasn't was your drunk texts.

They came in delirious spurts that were basically unreadable.

He thought of them as hieroglyphics written by your gorgeous ass.

He dismissed them as a silly mistake and then received a call.

"DOOONNIIIEEEEE!!!!" You screeched through the receiver at a volume that made him pull the phone away.

"Yes, my sweet inebriated beloved...?" He was wary in bringing the phone back.

"I like you." You giggled like a school kid telling their crush and he almost bed you were about to run away in the form of hanging up.

"Is that so?" He leaned back from the blueprints he was drawing.

"Yeah..." You seemed to ponder.

The bar rumbled static behind your pause. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, totally! They have this deal! Oh, you wouldn't believe! You get this tower. It's like a storm or something and then they serve it and you go like-!" You whooped into a gesture and someone else clearly yelled.

A deep voice responded telling you to watch yourself.

"Listen here, pal!" You shouted.

Donnie was growing pale as he didn't hear the heated response past 'pipsqueak.'

"Oh, it's on!" There was a harsh clatter before the line cut off.

The terminated call screen blinked with a choice to redial.

Donnie hit the button with a quaking thumb.

An automated voice told him the number he reached-

He was at the bar before his blood pressure lowered enough that he could see where he was going. He stormed straight through the packed club and dropped his goggles with a flick of his head. It drowned out the unnecessary noise and kicked up mapping.

There'd be a trail.

There'd be every indication where you had gone.

He had your metrics down to a science.

Heat signatures.

Scent markers.

He could track you no matter where you-

You were dancing on a bar.

He stared on, unblinking, as he brought his goggles up.

You swiveled and dropped your hips to the cheering of your friends and you looked completely uninjured.

He almost didn't even care what happened.

You were safe.

You looked to be having fun.

He sighed at the anxiety he suffered, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He bet you wouldn't mind his company and headed toward you.

Where you promptly fell from your spot because you backstepped in beat.

You disappeared behind the counter and Donnie ran.

In two leaps he was there and the moment he looked behind the bar, you weren't.

How was that possible?

He hadn't blinked.

You'd gotten into something mystic that had to be it.

His goggles were malfunctioning for not picking it up.

He heard your sweet laughter.

He rose up to see a bartender glowering down at him where he was invading the space.

Donnie shoved right by the man because a sliver of you was sitting on the counter. "Hey!!"

You looked and lit up. "Donnie!!"

You fell straight at him and he had to catch you.

"Again? That's it. Off! Off!" The bartender shooed you.

Donnie carried you as a giggling package away.

"Boop." You tried to poke the tip of his snout and pissed.

You reeked.

Even with all the assaulting scents of the bar, you in particular were exuding a dangerous amount of alcohol. He got you off to a wall before he set you down. Taking a moment to make a mental map with you safely caged by his body, he formed a breathalyzer with his ninpo and offered it to you. "Blow."

"Oh! Demanding tonight." You tittered. "Not even your birthday..."

He waited.

"Unless..." You swayed as you looked over his person. "Did you split the days again?"

"Darling, I implore you, for a moment, could you simply blow into the device."

"What device?"

He held up the glowing object more obviously.

"Why didn't you say so!?" You giggled and grabbed it.

You tongue it more than putting your mouth around it which made him shudder despite having no senses connected to the construction and he reminded you two more times to blow before you finally did with a hefty huff.

The screen ticked and Donnie thought you might have to try again before it decided 0.23% was a good score.

He blinked at it.

He looked at you where you were sliding down out of his hold.

He watched almost mesmerized as you slunk straight to your butt and very ungracefully tried and failed to get on your feet.

"What did you have?!" He squawked.

"Storm!! Whoosh!" You swung your arms.

"That doesn't mean anything! Where are your friends?"

"Where...?" You tried to move again and almost toppled over.

He hoisted you up like a toddler.

This was his night now.

Babysitting.

You were supposed to come back so cute.

Snuggle into his bed.

Instead you were fighting him like a cat that didn't want to be held. "I'll look!"

"No. I will!" Donnie glanced out for an abysmal moment.

He switched to his goggles a second later and saw scans of their paltry analytics going out and getting a cab."

"They ditched you!?"

"No! Who!?" You held his same tone.

"What happened to your phone!?" He turned on you.

You clucked. "Your forehead gets all wrinkly when you yell."

"Phone!"

"Washboard." You sang off-key notes of a bluegrass tune as you tried to play his forehead.

"No!"

He caught your hand.

"No!"

He reinforced his point by sticking his finger in your face.

Your gaze swam and you tried to bit him.

He yanked his hand away.

"Nope! No more! I'm done! I'm calling it! Bar's closed! You're going home! Those friends of yours better not have left the tab!"

"Nooo!!" You drew out your whine. "I want another drink!"

"Absolutely not! Do you want to chance alcohol poisoning?!"

You almost answered, but he hefted you up under his arm.

"Don't answer that as you aren't in the right mind to respond adequately."

You giggled and swung your dangling arms as he brought you to the bar.

it was a struggle as you kept moving, but he eventually got you there after only knocking over a total of two people.

The moment he set you on the counter to keep you out of trouble, the bartender turned on him.

"Not you again! I said no! Get that one off!"

"Fine! After I pay! Give me the stupid tab!" Donnie snapped right back.

The man rolled his eyes and moved to pull the receipt.

Donnie sighed to one side before he rolled his head back to you. "Let's get you some water-WHERE'D YOU GET THAT!!??"

You had a shot glass to your lips

He smacked it clean out of your hand on reflex.

You stared with wide eyes and hands held up to your lips where you were holding the itty bitty cup that had now shattered on the floor.

"You're paying for that!!" The bartender seethed.

"Yeah! Well!" Donnie hated his foolish response, but he couldn't take his attention away from you again.

In this form, you were far more dangerous than any foe he had ever faced.

"You are shaving years off my lifespan." He told you.

The bartender shoved him a receipt and waited with folded arms.

You were kicking your feet to a song that clearly wasn't play.

Donnie looked at the damaged and his nostrils flared at the price.

"What is this!? How much was that tiny glass!? I can gaffer you another!"

"Three spinning hurricanes, two rounds of shots, two beers, a margarita, and that tiny glass along with pain and suffering and my tip." The bartender leaned forward to illustrate he wouldn't be moved.

Donnie wrapped an arm around you to keep you in place as he got out the bills and not so silently muttered the injustice as he paid.

"Thank you, now get the fuck out." The bartender flicked his head toward the door.

"Check your reviews tomorrow and we'll see who's laughing!" Donnie sneered and hefted you like a bag over his shoulder and on the way out.

You kicked two people in the head and he had no idea how to get you home. You were far too wily to fly with in this condition. He needed to sober you up at least a little so you'd be still. That meant locating the closest food truck, which wasn't far off for the district. He paid another exuberant price for a bottle of water and a set of tacos. He chased you down twice as you tried to escape both times and eventually ninpo'd up a leash to keep you tethered to him.

You sulked straight into the offered platter of food where you immediately abandoned all sorrow for elation.

You ate while spilling filling all over your self and the ground, but Donnie couldn't help but love you.

You were the dork to match his.

You had probably dealt with far stranger after the potion fiasco that had split up his personality.

You drank heartily from your bottle and came away with a satisfied puff.

"Good?" Donnie from where you'd eventually sat own on the dirty sidewalk to eat.

"Good..." You nodded and the motion seemed to come at least a little easier to you. "Where... What happened to my friends?"

"I have no idea." He responded.

You looked up and seemed to sort of register your location. "Ugh. Did... Did i fight a guy?"

He shook his head with the same unknown.

"Must have won." You told yourself with confidence.

"Clearly." He chuffed.

"Buzzing..." Your head tipped.

You weren't moving all that much and seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. "Let's go."

"Kay." You set your trash down to leave, but he scooped it up to toss.

You didn't run away while he did so. You actually slung your arms around his neck when he went to pick you up. He held you close and flew evenly back to the closest entrance to the lair. He counted that as a win as he descended to land.

Dreams of showers and extra steamed cuddling were close at hand.

"Gonna be sick..." You burped over his shoulder.

In an instant shattering, Donnie turned his night over to patting your back while you vomited in an alley and tending to you until you recovered enough in the morning to kiss him gratitude for his care.

He supposed that was just as good.

[neverwalka1one]

I got to see Wicked last night, and whoo boy I have thoughts. Cut for spoilers, you've been warned.

I'm looking forward to seeing the 'Good News' song at the end of the second movie - Glinda already looked conflicted about the Giant Elphie Effigy (good lord those munchkins work fast)

Also, I thought the movie highlighted better that those in Munchkinland knew Elphaba her whole life, and this is still how hard they bought in to the propaganda.

The little hint that Glinda's bubble is all mechanics. Chef's kiss.

Glinda's bubble has a Designated Landing Place. Just. Consider all that implies, with Glinda having been until very recently the Wizard's goodwill ambassador.

'Take it away' will never not be heartbreaking. Also, of course Elphaba is going to grow up a fierce defender of animal rights, she was raised by a talking animal, and that bear was the only one to be kind to her consistently through her childhood. Dafuq.

Baby!Nessa!Rose's little meeps. Just. I died.

'Oh, they're going to miss me.' Galinda I love you you ridiculous gal.

I like this twist on why Elphaba was at Shiz. I loved the way she so desperately wanted to go, but couldn't ask for herself. I loved her trying to defend Nessa Rose's independence... and then still being blamed for stifling her. Excellent.

Also did y'all see the picture of the animals behind the cracked and fallen fresco of the Wizard in that scene? Foreshadowing my beloved.

Galinda writing a little 'it's great' card put on top of the saddest pile of bedding you've ever seen.

'What is this Feeling?' omfg. I loved Elphaba putting her foot down about the roommate situation.

I also liked that they moved Elphaba's talk with Dr. Dillamond off-campus. It makes more sense that this status-quo challenging talk would be done away from the powers that be.

Also it sets up Fiyero running into Elphaba (literally) better, and omfg. I love that horse, he's great, more horse in the second movie please.

Omg Galinda flirting. And Fiyero flirting back, but Galinda (and Elphaba) missing that at that point Fiyero was flirting with pretty much everyone because hey, it's fun, it's easy, and it works.

On that note, Fiyero flirting successfully with the librarian. <3

The whole Ozdust scene. All of it. The outfits, the dancing, the prolonged social anxiety/social embarrassment. The way Elphaba refuses to show she's been hurt. The way Galinda finally understands that. THE DANCE APOLOGY.

I did find it a little weird that one of the only lines cut from the musical was the 'Lemons and melons and pears. Oh my' bit between Boc and Nessa Rose.

Also can we talk about how excellent Jonathan Bailey is as Fiyero?

'Popular' is, as always, fantastic. And highlights just how good Galinda is going to be at the politics of this world.

'That might be your secret, but that doesn't make it the truth' AUGH GALINDA just rip out my heart why don't you.

I liked that when Elphaba rescues the lion cub, she's more restrained/talented than in the beginning of the movie. It makes sense, she's been learning all this time.

THE BIKES. THE LION CUB IN THE BIKE BASKET. THE WIZARD OF OZ CALLBACK. LOVE.

The mushroom things during 'I'm Not That Girl', idk what those were but they were so so pretty lord I love the world-building.

That scene of Nessa Rose, Boc, Galinda, and Fiyero all together, and Elphaba on the outside in the dark. Fiyero looking out over the courtyard as he's being pulled away. Augh, all of it.

The way the students turned on a dime the second Elphaba got that invitation.

That. Train. Steampunk my beloved.

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth getting singing roles, YES, THANK YOU, that was such a great surprise, I was squeaking like bebe Nessa Rose.

On the flip side... sigh. I called it. Jeff Goldblum was... very Jeff Goldblum. That guy, while a lot of fun, is the exact same character in pretty much everything he's been in for the last few years. I still think that casting was a mistake. Hear me out: The original Wizard was Joel Grey. Joel Grey was also the Emcee in Cabaret. ... so tell me it wouldn't both be great casting and an awesome call back to have casted Alan Cumming as the Wizard. I can't have everything I guess.

Also, and it might be just me/the effects of a late night screening, but when Elphaba and Galinda are walking into the palace, with the doors slamming behind them, and there's a scene with the torchlit hall behind them? Didn't the fire look like how the flames in the original Wizard of Oz movie looked? Just sort of... fuzzier and blurred than how film tends to pick up fire these days? It might have just been me.

Also this movie does have a bit of the Les Mis problem - you've got some cast members with serious vocal chops... and theeeeeen there's the ones that... tried hard. Great actors every single one, but would it have killed the director to find people for those roles that could match vocally as well? This movie doesn't need big names. We're not going for the big names, people.

I liked how the movie explained better why the Wizard not being able to read from the Grimorie was such a big deal.

The monkeys. Oh, the flying monkeys. Also the scene of Madam Morrible framed by flying monkeys. Thanks for breaking my heart.

'Defying Gravity'. All of it. Every bit of it. Holy. Shit. Holyshit. HOLY. SHIT.

So yeah, I'm going to have to see it eleventy-billion more times before it leaves theaters.

[pmak2002]

Just Being Here is Enough.

A/N mentions of struggling with Mental Illness Anxiety and Depression/ being overwhelmed

You were worried as you entered your boyfriend’s apartment. He hadn’t been answering your text or calls since he had canceled date night the day before. He had said he hadn’t been feeling very well and needed to rest.

He had told you not to worry and that he would make it up to you as soon as possible despite his hefty filming schedule. But you worried anyway and now that he hadn’t given you any updates since last night you knew you had to check on him.

The first thing you noticed is the dirty dishes in the sink and dishwasher. As well as empty takeout containers all over the floor.

As a normally tidy person it worried you seeing such a mess. There was also snotty tissues scattered around. You noticed the gunk in the tissues was green instead of clear a sign of a sinus infection.

You noticed the couch had empty tissue boxes and water bottles on the table next to the couch as well as more pillows and blankets than usual.

You moved through the mess to Timothee’s room. He was clearly not well and you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled for you to see him in a bad state but you worried foo much to care.

You knocked on the bedroom door carefully incase he was asleep. You knew it probably wasn’t locked but you wanted to be sure.

You hear Timothee groan and then his voice.

“Who is it?” He called weakly his voice sounding raspy and weak.

“It’s me I wanted to see if you’re alright.” You call back.

“Enter.” He says sounding less than thrilled.

You enter the room to find him laying with his face in a pillow and his curls are tangled and unruly. Despite filming Marty supreme and needing haircuts it seems he had possibly missed an appointment with Jamie. Seeing how long his hair had grown since his last cut.

You carefully approach him and rub his back. He sighs and rolls over. There is dark circles under his eyes, he’s pale, flushed and his eyes are red as if he’s been crying. You take your thumb and wipe a stray tear.

“Oh mon ange.” You coo.

“I told you not to worry. You didn’t have to come.” He says. You take your hand and rub his check. He coughs harshly.

“I couldn’t help it I know you’ve been doing a lot and..”

This brings fresh tears to his eyes.

“Oh Timmy baby what happened?”

“I started feeling really sick the other day I thought I was just a cold but it kept getting worse and then I was constantly on the move and doing things. I can’t keep up and my brain was screaming and I couldn’t calm down and…”

He’s really crying now. Tears and snot running down his face.

He sits up bawling and shaking. You immediately wrap your arms around him as he shakes.

“My darling boy you’ve been too much for too long. You’ll kill yourself if this keeps happening.”

You kiss his head and hold him tight the pressure from your embrace calming him down some.

“When was the last time you’ve ate, slept or showered?!” You ask worriedly.

Tim shrugs and wipes at his eyes.

“You definitely need a hot shower if you want to clear up this sinus infection did you visit the doctor at all?!” You ask as you pull away.

He nods

“I’ve only felt ok enough to take my med, drink, water and sleep. I took a bath the other day but I just couldn’t get myself up unless I had to use the bathroom or order food to eat. Everything hurts so I could barely stomach or swallow.” He explains.

You grab a tissue from the tissue box on his nightstand and hold it over his nose.

“Blow your nose. We gotta get that gunk out. Green means it’s infection.”

He nods and does as you instruct.

“There we go. That help?” You ask as you toss it into the trash and then head to wash your hands in the bathroom.

He nodded “my head hurts though.”

Frowns “all that pressure doesn’t feel good does it?” You say.

He nods slowly as if moving his head around hurts.

“I’ll start a hot shower. It’ll help clear it up and you’ll feel much better.”

You go to his bathroom and start a hot shower for him. Knowing the steam will help him with his sinuses.

Once that’s done you help him out of bed and into the bathroom. He uses the bathroom before you help him prep for his shower. Then you help him into the shower. Then leave him to let him clean himself up.

While he showers you set about cleaning up the house. Staring the dishwasher, throwing out the trash and endless tissues and empty takeout containers and empty tissue boxes. Then start a load of laundry.

You set up a grocery order of soups, crackers, water bottles, tissue boxes, and whatever else he might need or want.

Once it arrives you put away the grocery items and bring up some tissue boxes and a water bottle for him.

Later.

You help Timothee into a pair of warm pjs. Then help him brush out his tangled and matted curls.

Then You help him take his medication and give him the water bottle.

“Can I get you anything else sweetness?” You ask.

He puts the water bottle aside on the nightstand once he’s done with his medication and reaches up at you making grabby hands tears in his eyes again.

“Hey hey why the tears? It’s alright.” You soothingly as you crawl into bed beside him. He practically throws himself at you.

You hold him tight the way he likes to be held when he’s stressed or sick.

“Everything is too much I’m tired, I’m scared, I’m…”

“Oh Timothee. Sweetie it’s been too much work for you. You need to get rest and heal. You need time to breathe. No wonder you are so sick.” You slowly run a hand through his curls. As he cries.

“I’ll call and talk to Brian about a break for a little while you need it. Especially with how sick you are.”

He shakes his head. Then winces from pain.

“No I can’t I have to work, I have to work I can’t delay filming I can’t..”

“Timothee try to breathe you can’t keep doing this it’s inhuman to push yourself so hard.”

He shakes his head again but keeps crying.

You hold him and he cries himself to sleep in your arms.

You start humming as you hold him listening to his mouth breathing because of the sinus pressure and infection. You so desperately want to take away his pain, stress and the need for perfectionism but you can’t.

Later that day.

You call with Brian and the rest of Tim’s team to move his schedule around to give him at least a couple weeks off so he can recover and just be instead of constantly on the move.

Timothee sleeps throughout the day and you decide to spend a few days with him to make sure he’ll be ok.

You call your dog walker to take your German shepherd Kodak for a while. So you can focus on Timmy and help him recover and recharge.

You cuddled Timothee close and soon you fall asleep with him in your arms.

Later.

You awake to Timothee squirming In your arms.

“Hey what’s wrong?” You ask concerned.

“Antibiotics are messing with my stomach. Need the bathroom now!” He whined

You help him to the bathroom. Then go about cleaning the rest of the apartment and putting away the now clean dishes and moving the laundry into the dryer.

Once that’s done you get another water bottle and tissue box and head back upstairs and find Timothee back in bed. He immediately reaches out for you.

You put the items on the nightstand and then

You crawl into bed with him and cuddle him close and tight just the way he likes it.

“Can I get you anything else Mon Armor?” You ask?

He shakes his head and buries his head in your chest before yawning and mumbling.

“Just being here is enough Mon Ange. Thank you.

“Of course my love. Always.”

[donkeysyears]

he asked whether it's possible to call me this evening. I said yes. he didn't respond.

been an hour by now and it's almost 9pm.

if he doesn't call, Imma cry.

[sen-ya]

I am generally Nervous and Embarrassed abt posting my lawlu comics but I simply love shachi and it feels like my duty to share every piece of shachi content I have

[the-bi-space-ace]

I have been DYING to get a minute to sit down and write out my thoughts about this because oooooooh boy you really got my brain racing with this one.

Echo and Fives have been so much of a package deal that they’ve fallen into a pattern they’re both comfortable with. Echo has a level head, confidence, and he’s very comfortable with authority figures. Fives is passionate and fiery but he also gets antsy with waiting around. The having to think about what’s coming next really gets to him whereas Echo doesn’t get that nervous.

I have noticed that there are several times Fives follows Echo’s lead, lets him take the front, and Echo is their voice. Often when you’re so intertwined with someone else you can tend to fall into patterns that work for you and I think it’s totally possible that happened for Fives and Echo.

Echo just does so well with structure, mediating, strategy and the planning process. It seems to get him more ready to get moving. Hearing about what’s going on, their mission, how they’re going to help, just gets him fired up to get going. He is never hesitant to state exactly what he thinks and he is a compelling man. When he believes in something he’s hard to ignore. Fives just wants to get out there and do it. The more he has to hear about how bad it is, how many steps it’s going to take, how dangerous it is, the more nervous he becomes. It’s like he has this anxiety about having to hear about it, sit with it, know it’s coming. The anticipation drives him up a wall he would really rather just do it and let his adrenaline do the talking.

Echo is so comfortable in the structure of it all. He likes having rules and boundaries and he likes knowing how to bend them. He’s confident, which is something I love about him. And Fives is confident too just in the ‘doing’ phase more so than the ‘planning’ phase.

I like the idea that they level each other out. That they need each other for different things. An equal and balanced partnership. A partnership that is shaken to its core at the Citadel. Fives has to learn to make up for the balancing act he lost.

And in a lot of ways he does. He changes. It’s so clear to me that by Umbara there is something different about him. The way he fights for what he thinks is right is something I’ve just come to associate with Fives but I like seeing him grow into it, find ways to speak out, and make people see him. Fives is one of those characters that really grows into himself, ya know? We see him at a few different stages of life and see how he’s changed from his cadet years and I’ll always be proud of the man Fives became.

I know Echo is proud of him, too.

I’ve always loved the idea that Echo was 60% of the chaos of the domino twins. Fives gave a good 40% of it but mostly held on for dear life and made sure Echo had someone backing him up. He knew Echo would have his back, would stand up for them and would recite every regulation he could remember to get them out of hot water. Echo may not be able to lie one bit but if he can use his knowledge against you he’s golden. The second they had a plan Fives would be all for it, ready to go, jumping in as fast as he could, but Fives knew to let Echo do the talking if they got caught so he could get them out of the hole they’d dug themselves.

I don’t know really where I was going with this just that I love it and can’t get enough of these two 🩶

Fives Thoughts

Sooooo I literally just made a post being like 'here are some fun bits from Umbara because the arc is depressing and I don't wanna talk about the sad bits' but uh... I had thoughts in the last 15 mins and now I wanna share them. 😃

And of course tagging as usual for people I'm interested to hear opinions from: @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace

It's been a while since I watched these story arcs back-to-back, so a lot of the character development is really showing atm. And one I find interesting is a shift in Fives between The Citadel and Umbara.

Fives has always had a bit of a firey personality, but up until this point he's been a little bit held back with that passion for the most part. And I'm gonna touch in something that @novaceleste and @spaceyjessa spoke about in their podcast (@coffeeandclones I was just listening to it the other day and they talk about some interesting points. Defo recommend you check it out. Also #JusticeForDroidbait2024) because it really is the basis for this whole point. Despite Fives being the brasher, slightly more hardheaded personality, and Echo being the more by-the-books one, it's Echo that tends to do a lot of the talking when authority is involved. When they speak to Shaak Ti, it's Echo that takes the lead, while Fives is a little more hesitant.

And when they first meet Rex and Cody, Fives automatically introduces himself as CT-27-5555, despite being very open about his displeasure of being called that throughout their training. He has this louder personality but he tends to draw into himself and panic slightly when put in front of authority.

However, he still has these more fiery moments, like during his speech in ARC Troopers. When he's put in a fight, that spark within him comes out full force. "My blood is boiling for a fight." That's what drives Fives. That's where that passion comes from. He always wanted to make ARC trooper, to prove himself and to demonstrate that fire in the fight.

And yet when we get to the Citadel, he's surprisingly nervous. Echo seems to be fairly on board with everything, he's listening intently, he's down with the plan. But Fives is rather hesitant and doesn't seem totally enthused about the whole thing. They've made ARC trooper, they're being included in a specialist mission, the things that Fives so desperately worked for. But now that they're here? He's really not comfortable with it.

And I think that Fives' passion and drive is so prominent in the heat of battle because his adrenaline is going, he's got the energy to burn and so that's when we see this fire in him. But in the quieter moments, the meetings, the in-between fights? He's nervous. Those are the moments where he can sit on it and really think about what they're up against. And what becomes really apparent is that Fives is absolutely terrified of the thing that fuels his fire. The thing he worked so hard for scares the absolute shit out of him. And for good reason.

But it's never been so much of an issue because he had Echo. Echo, who's more level headed, who feels comfortable with plans and formats and authority. He could be the comforting presence that Fives needed outside of battle, while Fives could be the spark in it. They're like fire and water. They keep each other regulated, balanced.

But then The Citadel happens.

And watching the Umbara arc, I noticed that Fives doesn't have that very noticeable fear. It's not that it's absent, it's just that it isn't so obvious all of the time. Of course, some of that is going to come with experience, he's been an ARC for longer, he's know Rex for a while so there's slightly more comfort with that level of authority, but he's definitely more consistently confident than he was before.

So my suggestion is, what if that comes as a result of losing Echo (at least in part)? He doesn't have that calming presence anymore, the one to balance his nerves. He doesn't have someone to stand firm beside him or take the bigger step for the two of them, so he's had to learn to do that himself. I think part of it is natural growth that comes with experience (to quote Rex: "experience outranks everything") but I do also think it comes with no longer having that constant other half. Fives has had to learn to balance himself.

Like I said earlier, a lot of this links back to stuff said in Nova and Jessa's podcast, so I'd recommend checking it out. But I just wanted to add my extra thoughts on it, having just watched Umbara, because it definitely stuck out to me on this rewatch.

[why-the-heck-not]

Starting to almost wish I could just go do this fucking presentation today solely bc I’m getting mad and tired of the anxiety, how is it physically possible to be this anxious for so many days straight. There has to be a limit how long u can be on the verge of an anxiety attack like ????

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[malaierba]

Thinking about Karamatsu/Nozomi whole looking through some web weavings, and if I ever write something for them (currently in the phase of trying to come up with key events and organise them chronologically so it makes sense, thematically) I think I'd like this to be one of the take aways

In the event of a bad ending (dunno if I'm strong enough for that though 🫠 SHE CAN CHANGE HIM WITHOUT DYING im better than that), I hope that Karamatsu still finds it in himself to stop being so passive about his life. Like,

To stop waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect answer to dawn on him, and instead take life by reins and... Just start being an active participant in his own life. To embrace self-determination and the risk of committing to something that may not pan out but still forces you to take conscious and mindful action every day.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

ugghhh wintertime sucks!! I'm sad and tired and sad all the time.. I need a nap.. and f/o cuddles.. and another nap..