#That moment where you're forced to put it down to sleep only to dream possible events

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[moonsaver]

Thinking back to a post you once made about Aeon Sunday… Imagine being someone who knew Sunday in the past before his ascension, only to then receive the gaze of Aeon Sunday later in life

Oh my god. I love this. This is simultaneously creepy AND oddly romantic.

Theres a lot of possibilities for this – was reader sunday's crush? A suitor? Maybe just someone he shared small talk with and actually liked it more than usual? Ooohohoho

Im not sure if its yan or not, so i just kinda.. kept it variable(?)

This ones a bit longer because i desperatley need to wordvomti . Thanks.

Achieving an aeon's gaze is strange, your discipline, morals, ideals, lifestyle, something has to deeply resonate with their followed path. Let us assume Sunday is something similar to a "dreamlike" aeon [maybe it's mentioned in his boss form description, all i remember is the embryo of Philosophy ;;]

But again, it's not exactly stated how you'd be able to achieve an aeon's gaze; i still have no idea how acheron did it [IX is literally a black hole??], because i cant for the life of me read through those huge blocks of texts in the dialogue.

So lets say Sunday's able to pull his own strings and maybe even force you on that path. He's an aeon – who's stopping him?

Its the middle of the night, you're awake in bed, tossing and turning. It feels like something in your chest is pulling, a weird sensation you've been trying to put off. Your eyes are burning from the lack of sleep, but your mind seems restless. You try to calm yourself down and think about one thing and then another, one by one, until you remember Sunday. You wonder what was going through his mind, his in-between words in that one conversation, what he could have meant..

And like that, you fall asleep. Your bones sink into the bed, your weight relaxes into the pliant surface.

And then you awake. But somewhere else. It's not your bedroom – not the familiar ceiling, nor the corner of your room with piled clothes or a messy table. It's the cosmos, littered with stars. It's strange. You almost don't notice until you try to move – you're floating in space.

You turn, and he's there. That recognizable golden halo, stretching out into the dark expanse like the inside of a star plunging into the depths, golden eyes that peer down at you; with recognition, understanding, almost sympathy, and something you can't quite place. Your ribs ache and your lungs burn when you're reminded to breathe – this is the man you were thinking about before you slept.

You wake up, panting, shooting up in bed. The familiar space of your room greets you this time. The night is young outside your window ‐ not much time seems to have passed in that brilliant moment.

You were ready to chalk it up to a dream, like the ones where you feel like you're falling and wake up with a racing heart. But then you look down, and see a strange symbol on your body, something akin to an eye.

It seems you've earned his blessing to follow his path.

And even more? It seems like you're the first person to actually follow this path.

It's strange and isolating in a way. You can awaken from the sweetdream paradise your beloved Aeon seems to have put penacony under. You gain this strange, superflous, iridescent ghost of a halo, and you realise you can use it to communicate.

You can communicate with Sunday.

But a part of you finds it pointless. you can't understand what he's saying anymore; Aeons' existence transcends language. You can only hear whispers of people speaking to you, as though it's from the corner of a room, somewhere in the distance, with one barely audible male voice standing out in the whispering; it might be sunday's real voice, but you're not sure. At least, to some degree, you've managed to make out a few words.

Some words give you information. You can monitor the true handiwork of your aeon this way. Every person's dream — sweet, deep slumbers, exquisitely woven by deft fingers, all in 7 days. You figured this when you phased out of the dream, looking down at your own sleeping body and freaking out, when Sunday communicated with you for the first time, instantly calming you down. Dream. Woven. 7 days. Those words were evident in the cacophony of whispers.

Some words carry warnings. Or rather, they're not exactly words.

When your curious hands boldly trace the surface of a particularly fragile dream, you hear breathing. In close proximity, too, as if its right behind your ear. Sometimes, if you try to wake someone, you feel the breathing; warm, and languidly flowing down the back of your collar. You've chosen to not find out what happens when you don't listen.

Sometimes, when you decide to simply phase out of the dream to take a look at your own body in reality – you talk to Sunday. You tell him what you think, who you met in the dreamscape, what he can do to make it better [since.. well, you can't exactly do much to awaken anyone or oppose an aeon]. You assume he doesn't hear you, since you don't get your whispery response, but after you catch a few glimpses of your suggestions in the dreamscape, you realise he's just a good listener.

Perhaps, even if you may be the only follower of this path for now.. it may not be as isolating as you think.

[fen-luciel]

The witches' covenant part 2

Part 1 here

Warnings:

Smut/Manipulation/coven/dubious consent

Witch reader X Sith Qimir

It would have been a lie to say I wasn't anxious.

This time was different, I was the one reaching out to him, not waiting silently.

When I lay down that evening my heart was in my throat. I closed my eyes and focused on my connection with the thread. The darkness surrounded me as it had all the other times, but I forced myself to look around.

It felt like I was walking through a void, yet I was sure I was moving. I wanted to call out to that presence that tormented me, but I didn't even know its name, or if it had one at all.

With a trembling voice, I gathered some courage and shouted into the darkness "Hey, are you there?"

I could sense it far away. More like the thread connected us but didn’t call to him, it remained dormant.

Perhaps he needed to stay asleep for me to reach him?

Was it possible that I wasn’t capable of making him feel my presence?

Was he so far from me?

And what kind of power did this being possess to contact me so easily?

I let it go for that night.

The next morning, I woke up with a sense of disappointment in my body. I didn’t know if I had failed or if something else was preventing me from reaching him, and in any case, why was I doing all of this?

Just for... that pleasure?

It was embarrassing to think about it. Deep down, I was curious about who was on the other side, but it was undeniable that what I wanted most was that touch on my skin.

One taste had been enough to make me addicted... I needed it.

It was only later that afternoon, after the usual lessons, that I "casually" approached my mother, who was busy reading one of our ancient bound tomes. Sitting at the round wooden table, I sat next to her with a book, though it was a pathetic excuse to be there.

"These nights I haven't been sleeping very well" I began, slowly flipping through the pages. I noticed the look she gave me accompanied by a knowing smile "Did something happen?"

I struggled to speak, I didn't even know where to start really.

"I'm having nightmares" I lied... or maybe not.

She seemed confused. "I dream of... something I've never seen. I don't understand how that's possible" I put the book down on the table, abandoning the pretense of reading, and she mirrored my gesture turning her full attention to me.

"I don't know what's happening. It's..." I sighed "I'm scared, but because I don't know what it is" I had difficulty explaining without giving an actual description of what was happening.

There was a moment of silence before she took my hands in hers "Honey, I'm your mother. My job is to guide you until you're ready. But I need you to tell me what's going on" we looked into each other's eyes. "Someone is trying to contact me. And I'm scared. Because he don't show himself or let me touch him..." I blushed, thinking that instead, I had been touched too much "...yet he... seems to know exactly what to do. As if he knows me" I prayed that my words weren't too revealing.

I swore I saw a flash in her eyes, a flicker of understanding, and my heart skipped a beat. She was about to tell me something, I was sure of it—

"Honey, the bond we share with the thread is a gift we have been granted. We are blessed with this power, and as such, we have obligations to it" I frowned "You, being my daughter, have an even greater burden on your shoulders. Has this bond ever hurt you?" I shook my head "Then trust the blessing you’ve been given. I taught you this many years ago. Do you remember the first lesson?"

I replied with an uncertain voice "The thread has two ends. On one side, you take. On the other, you give." She smiled at me.

"Exactly. Don’t forget it." I opened my mouth to respond, but she released my hands and stood up "Now I must go, but remember your privileges. And what you must do in return." She left before I could stop her.

I remained sitting there, staring into the void, the unpleasant sensation that someone was watching me.

Days passed without any signs.

I continued my routine, though I was distracted and nervous.

One particularly tough afternoon, I got hurt.

I lost my focus just in time to slip on the rain-soaked ground, falling to the ground with a sharp sound that filled the air before I gasped for breath, a cry of pain escaping my lungs.

"What on earth is going through your head?!" Koril snapped in front of me, furious "You should be ashamed of yourself, you're not even trying, and this?!" she pointed to the ground around me "Get that ankle bandaged. You’ll heal without the help of the thread. As punishment for your carelessness" I remained silent, taking the scolding, knowing that nothing I could say would help.

I limped my way to the infirmary. They wanted to give me a cane to help, but it was already humiliating enough as it was, so I decided to suffer in silence. I ate dinner without even looking my mother in the eyes and rushed to my room where I could finally rest.

I don’t know if I fell asleep first or if simply closing my eyes was enough to resonate with the thread.

I felt a light breeze on my skin, a low, continuous sound that I couldn’t quite identify.

I opened my eyes and jolted.

I didn’t understand what place this was. It was an octagonal room, the ceiling was extremely high, and each wall was made of a smooth, black material. There were no windows to illuminate the space, but decorations along the edges, glowing a brilliant red, allowed me to see. It seemed more like a liquid was flowing through these lines carved into the smooth stone.

As I looked around, confused, the only visible door opened, and I finally saw him.

Or at least, I understood I was seeing him.

I could feel him, I recognized him in the cold he carried with him. I swore that the sensation I felt a few days earlier with my mother was the same. A human figure with a helmet covering his face was slowly approaching, his arms the only parts uncovered by the long black robe.

"Poor creature. So distracted lately. What’s occupying your thoughts?" the voice was hoarse and slow, distorted, I think by the helmet, though I had never heard such a deep tone before.

"A-are you… the person with whom…" the words died in my throat, not knowing what to say, or rather, not having the courage to say it.

"The one with whom you shared a bond? Yes." The door closed behind him as he approached with measured steps. I curled my toes in my shoes to stop myself from backing away. Technically, he had never hurt me, but his presence was suffocating. I couldn’t see his eyes or what kind of face was hidden beneath that helmet, yet it felt like two spotlights were trained on me.

"I tried to call you, but..." he stopped a couple of steps away from me, i could have reached out and touched him from here, but the fear that had been lying dormant in the pit of my stomach now almost took my breath away.

"I felt it. But I was busy. I didn’t think it would take so little to make you so needy" I could only grimace in shame as I looked away under the pressure "I didn’t—I was just curious and—" I began to stammer, clenching my hands into fists, but he abruptly interrupted me with a firm voice.

"Look at me." An order so clear that I instinctively turned back. I tried to figure out where exactly his eyes would be to feel less foolish. I saw a slight slit where I assumed what I was looking for was, and I focused on that.

"There’s nothing to be ashamed of. This isn’t your fault" I exhaled deeply through clenched lips. The reassurance I felt made me uncomfortable, i didn’t even know who he was or what he really wanted from me. I couldn’t understand how he could have this influence.

"I know what you’re thinking. But everything will be fine. I am your destiny..." he pronounced my name with such confidence that I flinched imperceptibly.

He knew my name.

He knew me.

He knew who I was.

But I was sure I had never seen him before, no one in the congregation had… that physique or that aura.

He let out a light puff, as if chuckling at something, his head casually tilted to one side "Do you want to touch me? Isn’t that why you’re here, right?" He extended an arm in front of him, his hand relaxed, palm up as if offering it to me. "Don’t be afraid"

I looked at that hand with a reverence that took my breath away.

I had so many questions, I didn’t even know how many of them actually made sense. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again, but in a situation like this, perhaps the most sensible thing would have been to run away… but I… I trusted him.

"Why do you know my name? And what do you mean by my destiny?" I managed to ask with difficulty, looking from his palm to his helmet, my hands itching.

He sighed.

"We could have avoided this discomfort if only your mother had fulfilled her duty. I should have imagined it" He dropped his arm before starting to remove the long robe from his head. I admit I protested internally when the helmet didn’t budge an inch, but I didn’t show it.

He left the fabric on the ground by his feet, and I couldn’t help but give him a glance longer than necessary. His defined arms, his chest covered by a dark outfit I had never seen before "What are you talking about? Do you know my mother?" I whispered.

He exhaled another brief laugh.

"We have an agreement. An ancient one. As you know, the thread has two ends, two weights that keep the universe in balance. Light and darkness. Water and earth. Good and evil… woman and man" he spread his arms in a relaxed gesture, making me feel like I was in one of the congregation’s lessons "For everything in between to exist, there must be balance. People like us, who can use the thread, the force, have duties to the universe. But I hope you already know that"

I nodded, watching him with growing discomfort.

I didn’t feel any balance now.

I felt like prey.

"Good girl. Anyway, as a witch, you have your opposite too" He pointed to his chest "Me. A Sith."

The word was new to me.

Nothing I had ever read or heard had a name like that, which matched the fact that I had never seen anything like him.

A man. A Sith.

"It’s okay to be confused now. Your mother should have told you about me a long time ago. But that’s fine. It doesn’t change anything. We are destined for each other" a playful sigh "You desire me. You want me. It’s in your blood."

I blushed with discomfort, not understanding half of what he was saying, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t want him. I was terribly ashamed, but a voice in my head just wanted him to stop talking and touch me and…

I looked at his chest again.

It was normal to be curious, right?

I had never met a man, so it wouldn’t be foolish to ask to touch him. I was just… curious, that’s all.

As if reading my thoughts, he extended his arm towards me again "Touch me."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard. Was it that obvious? Could it be read on my face? Or was he really reading my mind?

I ignored the fact that it seemed more like an order than an invitation, he seemed like the type of person who had an authoritative tone even when talking about the weather, like Mother Koril for instance.

I raised my hand as if to clasp his in a handshake, but I stopped my fingers a centimeter from his skin.

It was the first time I had touched someone during such an experience. Over the years, I had trained to find other members of the congregation through the thread, but this was different, and it was with a stranger… who knew my name.

And he claimed to know my mother.

It was really foolish to go along with this, but… I wanted… just one more time.

I traced my fingertips along his palm, up his forearm. His skin was pale, and underneath, the prominent veins running through the defined muscles were visible, i stroked them reverently, everything about him screamed "dangerous" and "strong" but I couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way.

I reached the inner elbow and his bulging bicep. I would have had to lean in to go further, his arm was much longer than mine, or rather, he was much bigger than me in every way… the realization made me feel a tingling sensation between my legs.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he had moved his hand close to my face. My breath caught in my throat when his rough fingertips brushed my cheek, then moved to the edge of my jaw and neck, his thumb slowly stroking my cheekbone.

I trembled slightly, my breath shallow but my mouth sealed, afraid of making too much noise in a moment that felt so intimate, so private.

I gathered my courage and, with my other hand, touched the muscles of his shoulder more firmly. I had never met anyone so… big, so defined. He seemed like one of those beautiful creatures you read about in books, the figures that show you their best side, perfect machines of death and elegance.

I felt like I was being drawn to a star, knowing I would burn, but I wanted more—I needed it.

Without even realizing it, I pressed my face into his palm like a needy loth-cat. The rough sensation of someone who always worked with their hands on something heavy compared to my smooth skin sent shivers down my spine.

I heard him take a deep breath from under the helmet, a step forward so slow I almost didn’t notice it "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

His voice, if possible, was even deeper than before.

I nodded.

"Then do as I say."

Slowly, the thumb that was stroking my cheekbone moved to my lips, caressing them once before pressing down on my lower lip. My instinct was to lick my dry lips, but the idea of touching his skin in the process frightened me.

Yet, a fleeting thought crossed my mind.

What would he taste like?

"Open your mouth"

I didn’t even think to disobey the order.

I slowly parted my lips, allowing him to push his thumb into my mouth. I exhaled shakily, tasting his skin on my tongue, it was… salty. I couldn’t quite name what I was tasting, I had never thought of the concept of "skin flavor"

When you kiss someone’s cheek, you can smell their scent, maybe a soap they use or a hair product, but this was different.

The rough sensation on my tongue as he pushed the first phalanx between my lips made me swear I heard him mutter something, but with the helmet on it was impossible to understand.

"Such an obedient girl" he murmured more clearly, pushing further in.

"Suck it" he commanded, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

I didn’t know what I was doing what was happening, but... I didn’t want him to stop. I wondered if he would touch me between my legs again with those fingers, maybe if I asked him... if I behaved well he might do it.

I did as he asked. It was uncomfortable, especially when he slid two fingers under my chin, holding me in a firm grip. It didn’t hurt, but it was strong enough to let me know he wouldn’t let me pull away. I wondered if I looked foolish in that position, he wasn’t laughing, but with that mask, it was impossible to tell.

I tried to use my tongue to help, uncertainly placing my hands around his wrist as if to steady myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him move his hand down to his chest unbuttoning the first few buttons.

"Have you ever seen a man naked?"

I made a negative sound around his thumb.

"Are you curious?" I swore I could hear amusement in his voice.

I glanced back and forth between his helmet and his chest. Curious?

I had never really thought about the differences between sexes, but now that he was in front of me, we seemed so similar yet so different, i wondered if his face would give the same impression.

I think he understood my answer on his own because he continued unbuttoning his shirt, the top opened revealing his chest. He pulled his thumb from my mouth, the wet skin brushing my lip one last time before he fully removed the dress.

I swallowed with difficulty.

His broad chest, wide shoulders, pale skin, and defined stomach... he was a sight to behold.

At this point, I wondered what I had done right in life to deserve being there with him, while he showed himself to me.

"You called me because you wanted me to touch you again, right?"

I nodded, not taking my eyes off his chest.

"And I will. But as I said, everything has balance" He gently took my wrist, guiding my hand to his chest, i didn’t hesitate for even a second spreading my fingers to let my palm rest on his smooth muscles.

He let go of me, but I didn’t stop. I was trembling, deeply ashamed. I traced his skin with trembling fingers exploring the definition of his chest, careful to avoid those small nipples, thinking it would be too bold.

It was a constant confirmation of my theory, so similar, yet so different.

I ran a finger down the line of his abs to his navel, where I stopped. I saw him take another small step forward, closing the distance between us. When I looked up, I gasped, realizing how close he really was.

"If you want me to touch you again, you’ll have to do something for me first. We are two sides of the same coin, destined for one another. You want to make me feel good just as I do for you, right?" He tilted his head slightly to the side as he asked.

I parted my lips to respond, but said nothing, instead, I pressed them into a thin line and nodded—it seemed like a fair exchange after all.

He remained silent for a few seconds before taking my hand in his and guiding it lower, where the waistband of his pants began. I stifled a gasp as my palm rested on the bulge between his legs.

"Are you scared?"

I shook my head.

He let go of my hand to start unbuttoning his pants. I moved aside to give him space, my stomach churning with anxious anticipation. The fabric pooled around his ankles, revealing his muscular legs, but I was too distracted to notice, my attention elsewhere as he pushed down his underwear, exposing something I had never seen before.

"Kneel" he ordered.

And I hung on his every word.

I lowered myself placing my knees on the cold, smooth floor. My heart pounded in my throat, and I felt as if I were praying before an ancient god. When we gathered in the congregation to celebrate the thread, we often found ourselves in a similar position, but this reminded me more of ancient legends, the other religions scattered across the galaxy, the mythological figures of gods with human like forms.

The red light illuminated his pale body with an unnatural glow. The terrifying helmet could have been mistaken for the features of a pagan god, and… that tense flesh between his legs, just inches from my face.

Was this really happening?

Was I praying to him?

For my own pleasure?

Would I worship him, and he would make me feel good?

"Focus on my cock, darling. If you learn quickly, you'll get your reward" He grasped his… cock in one hand, stroking it slowly a couple of times. A small drop emerged from the tip, and I stared at it, mesmerized.

"Open your mouth"

I couldn’t say whether it was instinctive after what had happened with his finger or if it was the bond between us telling me what to do, but I parted my lips, extending my tongue to lick away that droplet as it trickled down.

I contracted the muscles in my core, tasting him.

I wanted more.

"Such a good slut." I looked up, confused by what he had called me, but he didn’t say anything more. His free hand took my head and pushed it down along his cock in a smooth motion.

I gasped in discomfort at the sensation, but something at the back of my mind was muddling my senses... a whisper, a cold breeze making my ears ring with white noise. I closed my eyes, rocked by that shiver as I sucked and licked just as I had with his thumb before, the moisture between my legs a sign of my arousal.

"You’re so good, made to suck my cock" His voice broke as he tilted his head back. I watched his prominent neck as I took him deeper, the sensation of salty liquid in my throat as I swallowed, a slight feeling of nausea when his hand pushed me down even more.

He grabbed my hair at the roots, stopping for a moment to look at me.

My eyes were wet with tears from the effort, but I didn’t care, my abs tight, my chest rising and falling quickly with his expressionless mask facing me, a thin sheen of sweat covering him… I could have watched him for hours. I would have done anything he asked to get more.

"Swallow my cum, and then it will be your turn" Without waiting for a signal, he pushed me down again, the base against my lips as the warm flesh filled my throat, my nose full of his hot scent, the white noise growing louder and more insistent, preventing me from thinking clearly, a single thought echoing in my head.

Swallow it.

His breathing grew heavier as he used his hips to fill my mouth, the excitement between my legs increasing.

I reached down to touch myself, but he gripped my hair tightly making me flinch. "Don’t you dare. I didn’t say you could touch yourself" he growled, his breath short. I mumbled incoherent apologies as he drove himself deep into my throat one last time, feeling him contract on my tongue before a thick, warm jet filled my stomach, spilling out slightly before pushing back in again and again, as if to ensure not a drop of that dense liquid was wasted… not that I was unhappy to drink it.

He released me, allowing me to take a deep breath, tears quickly drying.

"Good girl. Now take off those pants."

The satisfaction in his voice warmed my heart, but I hurried to do as I was told, leaving my soaked panties on the ground, hoping he wouldn’t comment on them.

I expected him to order me to get up, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted his foot on his heel, raising the toe of his boot.

"Ride it like a good slut." I began to suspect that the nickname was some kind of term for something, but I ignored it too needy.

I trusted him, so without thinking too much, I clung to his leg like a starving person. The moist, sensitive bud made me flinch as it brushed against the shiny surface of his boot.

"Don’t you think you should thank me?"

I moved my hips back and forth, uncertain, trying to find the best angle. Sobs escaped my lips as I clung to his leg "T-thank you-" I gasped, looking back at the mask.

"That’s not enough. Call me Master."

I bit my lip to stifle a moan, the juices flowing down my thighs and soaking the boot.

"Thank you Master" I stammered, the white noise returning to buzz in my ears.

"You were born to worship my cock, sweet slut. They’ve kept me away long enough. Had I known you were so easy to submit, I would have come for you sooner" He lifted his foot, meeting me, the warmth in the core building up and leaving me breathless. I heard him speaking, but I couldn’t understand a word.

"Say it. That you love my cock, cum on my boot slut."

I whimpered on the edge of pleasure as I rode him shamelessly "I love your cock, Master, please-" I gasped just before tensing, my fingers digging into the muscles of his thighs as I came with a guttural moan, my poor pussy trembling and contracting in the void, my hips pressed against the boot while my legs shook uncontrollably.

I took deep breaths and opened my eyes.

But I was alone again, in my room, with the dawn of a new day visible through the window.

[depravitycentral]

Lee this toooootally isnt inspired by your latest Oikawa post because I feel like he's a closet prude but who in HQ do you think holds on to their virginity the longest based on their canon characteristics? Glad to see you writing again, make sure to stay hydrated! <3

(Because I don't mention Oikawa in the rest of the post - I agree! I think he actually does lose his virginity fairly early on (it's a drunken night and he's a bit regretful after), but I think he likes the concept of keeping himself "clean" and his body count not high just because he is a bit prudish. He'd never admit that he hasn't slept with the number of women you'd guess based off of his status and personality, but he isn't a pure saint himself. A bit hypocritical, to be honest.)

Oooh!! Something about virgin men just feels right - that shuddering little gasp they make when you first take them in your mouth, their hands clenching at the sheets or edge of the chair so tightly their knuckles turn white because it feels so damn good and they can't quite figure out where to put their hands.

(They want to put them in your hair, maybe force your head down a bit like he sees in porn - he only watches videos with actresses that resemble you, of course - but he's not sure if that's a porn-only thing, and the last thing he wants to do is mess up this perfect moment.)

Men who've never fingered anyone before, and so their movements are clumsy and awkward but eager, almost palpably so, their eyes always darting between your cunt and your face. He's listening for each and every noise you make, hoping for any kind of direction of where to touch and how, because it's just sensory overload to be feeling you like this - and suddenly now he knows why most guys don't last long in bed.

(He doesn't want to think about how fast he'll come the first time he actually gets to fuck you.)

And of course, the men who immediately have to bury their face against your neck or back when the tip pops inside of you, every muscle in their body clenching up and this soft, whiny oh leaving their knees buckling. You just feel incredible - he's imaged you often, even going so far as to crafting some sort of stand-in for your own body, be it a toy or a homemade pocket pussy, but neither come even close to the real thing. He just can't get over how warm it all is - he wore the stupid condom like you'd requested, but even through the latex he can feel the wetness, the schlicking noise driving him mad as his hips buck and snap into yours without any real rhythm or aim. He'll push in as far as possible, his balls pressed as tightly against the cleft of your ass as possible, and then he'll just breath, these labored breaths that sound like a moan at the end while wide eyes stare down at you and his fingers grasp onto your hips and thighs and breasts and oh, god when you clench like that it's too much, he can't control himself and he can't stop it and oh, oh god, oh fuck he's coming inside of you just like he's been dreaming about for fucking months -

Of course, everyone's born a virgin, but some keep that status much longer than others. Let's discuss!!

Some men are in no rush to get between someone's legs - they're taking their time, whether for a specific reason or just as a byproduct of other circumstances. This is great news for them, though, because now you get to be their first - an honor that feels both fitting and somehow much, much too good to be real.

Kageyama and Ushijima aren't explicitly waiting, but careers and their lack of social graces haven't exactly made finding a girl a priority. Besides, they aren't ones for hookups, and it takes a long time for romantic feelings to form in the first place for them - they won't sleep with just anyone, it has to be you. (They're the one-and-only type - you're they're first partner, and likely their last. At least if they have any say.)

Sugawara and Kita aren't prudes, but they can't deny the slight allure of waiting until marriage, just because they buy a bit into the construct of virginity being something sacred you're giving away. They don't judge others for sleeping with someone out of wedlock, but it makes their cheeks turn a bit pink to think about giving that part of themselves to someone special - someone like you. (Both also have thinly veiled breeding kinks that make them subconsciously feel like they have to finish inside whoever they're fucking, and while the concept of knocking their sweetheart up gets their palms sweating and their throat bobbing, they're both realistic enough to know that an aversion to condoms equates to unwanted pregnancy.)

Kenma and Kunimi both want partners. Neither are especially sexually driven, and they'd both much rather less overt affection and contact in most situations. And frankly, neither is especially great with relationships - past girlfriends have never lasted long enough to get to the sex stage, so they're virgins by default. (Though both harbor a bit of a nasty addiction to porn, even if they'd rather die than admit it.)

Akaashi and Kuroo have both had ample opportunities to lose it - they're gorgeous, respectively sweet and funny, and every girl's dream, after all. But they're picky and secretly quite shy with their feelings and romance, so letting themselves be vulnerable to intimacy is a big step that they often chicken out of. It's just scary, and while neither is particularly insecure, there's something real and raw and terrifying about sharing themselves with another person like that. (They've each fingered a girl, though, so at least they've got a bit of experience. It makes Kuroo feel better, at least.)

Others are more eager to learn what all the hype is about, to see if sex is really as good as it's fabled to be - they lose their virginity pretty early on. They're sad when they realize you won't be their first (and likely they aren't your first either, though some are more fixated on that fact than others), but they don't mind too terribly much - plus, something about sex with you feels different from all the past times. It feels better, more intimate, more meaningful, like it's actually a way of expressing their love rather than just a fun perk of dating someone. Besides, they're so shocked and elated to be with you naked that they're practically virgins - their cocks aren't working correctly (performance anxiety driven by the yearning for you to approve of their bodies, of the pleasure they can give you), their rhythms are all off compared to their normal pace, some of them even forget how to kiss because they're so damn nervous.

Semi and Bokuto have had their fair share of partners, simply because their professions make adoring female fans a dime a dozen. Both make it a rule to not sleep with fans, but there's always one that manages to catch their eye, that tempts them into breaking that moral code because maybe this is that one in a million story of the fan and the star actually ending up together. But then you step into their lives and suddenly every other woman is nonexistent, every past partner erased from their mind because all that matters is you and that perfect body of yours. (Semi has a penchant for recording when he has sex, and while rewatching the tapes leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth because it just feels wrong to watch his cock pounding into a cunt that isn't yours, it's easy to imagine the girl's face is you, to imagine those moans are yours, to imagine the way she clutches onto him is how you'll clutch onto him, too. Bokuto just masturbates to you constantly, to the point where it's a wonder how his body can produce enough cum to have something coming out with his every orgasm.)

Tendou's early twenties brought with it a boost of confidence, and with that confidence came women. He's by no means a ladies' man, but he's slept with a small number of women and had a few girlfriends. His obsession takes a while to form but it affects him hard, to the point where he's certainly the most likely to suffer from serious anxiety and nervousness surrounding intimacy with you, even though he's never had a problem in the past. (He's convinced you'll think his cock is too small - it's not, the solid six inches is plenty - or that his cum tastes horrible - it's not great, sure, but there's a very faint aftertaste reminiscent of chocolate from all the test-tasting he has to do - or that you'll just think he's bad. The first time he makes you come he just sits there for a moment, staring with a dropped jaw, unable to believe that he just gave you an orgasm, all because of him and him alone.)

Hinata and Nishinoya don't purposefully plow through women, but they're the type to bring a girl home every night they go to the bar or club with some buddies. Often they'll reach out about a more permanent relationship rather than just a one-night stand, but often a good fuck is all the women are looking for, anyways. And so, while they have a good amount of experience, the vast majority of it is while being inebriated - and so, the first time they fuck you (stone cold sober, unwilling to not be fully present for possibly the best moment of their lives), it's almost like a new experience all over again, simply because there's all these details and parts they don't remember doing all those nights. (It's not that they don't remember - they just never cared enough to pay so much attention to their hookup's nipples or finger them with such precision.)

Osamu and Hanamaki don't have a huge amount of experience, but they've each had a very serious girlfriend before you, and so they have extensive experience with the same woman. But you - you're different. You're prettier, smarter, sweeter, softer, lovelier, just better in every way, and they feel this sort of pressure to make sure that the sex is better, too. They're the type to ask you every few minutes if everything is still feeling good, just because sex feels so damn good for them, and they want to make sure it feels good for you, too. (If only so that you'll keep doing it, keep letting them touch and kiss and fuck you - all with that lovesick look in their eye, a blush on their cheeks, and an insistence on making sure you're coming until you're literally crying.)

There's a large variety, but these are the ones that wait the longest or the least - but regardless, sex with you is still something that excites them like they're some horny teenage boy, their pants always feeling uncomfortably tight when you're around, no matter how hard they try to will it away. You're just too perfect and pretty and sexy, and can they really be blamed? Besides, isn't it nice to have a man so eager for you, so ready to get on their knees and beg you to just give them a single chance to please you?

If anything, the persistence is endearing.

You only mentioned haikyuu, lovely anon, but I feel compelled to at least mention some of the late and early bloomers for the other fandoms I write for!

Those that wait the longest:

Kny: most of the cast because of their occupation and the time period, but especially Giyuu, Shinobu, Sanemi, Kokushibou, Akaza

Hxh: Kurapika, Knuckle, Machi, Feitan, Franklin, Illumi

Bnha: Aizawa, Enji, Stain, Shigaraki, Spinner, Hawks, All Might

Those that lose it pretty early on:

Kny: Uzui, Douma, Muzan

Hxh: Phinks, Uvogin, Morel, Shizuku, Nobunaga, Shalnark

Bnha: Hizashi, Dabi, Fatgum, Midnight

[legacygirlingreen]

Mornings on Pabu

For week 4 of @summer-of-bad-batch's alt prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen"

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: An early morning on your lovely island home leads to some reflexion on how hard your lover has been working... and possibly explaining why that is...

*** no use of Y/N ***

Warnings: mildly suggestive, mentions of having children, no actual baby making activity I promise! mostly fluff! Domestic but non sexual nudity!

Word count: 2k

MASTERLIST

Rustling curtains and the muted sound of crashing waves were the perfect lull from sleep as you rolled over. Hair tumbling across the pillow as you did so, you blinked the caress of sleep away as your eyes focused while you moved. That’s not to say you weren’t careful of the dead weight from the arm perched over your waist. He rarely slept. Forcing him into the bed and to lay down - without that blasted datapad - was still a challenge after a year of island life. 

  You were finally free. Free of the Empire. Free of Dr. Hemlock. Free of the danger. Free to be at peace. Free to help give Omega the childhood she deserved. Free to heal those wounds both mental and physical. Free to love as you all saw fit. Free to have the lives you truly had always wanted. 

  Pabu was every bit the sanctuary Phee had promised. While you initially had been wary of the pirate - especially the way she continually flirted with Tech despite your unofficial yet apparent feelings for the man - you’d come to respect her in time. After a few drinks late one night, she admitted to flirting simply to push the two of you together. To her credit, her work along with the unscheduled descent that nearly claimed his life, it worked. 

  Tech was every bit of man you had longed for. Noble. Intelligent. Thoughtful. Sexy. 

  Even while sleeping, low rumbled snores escaping past his lips, he looked alluring. Those thick eyelashes that framed his deep brown eyes, visible due to removal of his staple goggles, which rested on his nightstand during the night. Skin having grown into a deep bronze with the sunlight, giving way with every deep inhale and exhale. His hair was an absolute mess, and finally grown to a length you wouldn’t have anticipated. No longer on the run, and needing to be practical, he’d let it go and given up on gel: meaning the carmel strands were curling around his neck and ears now instead of being cropped short and pushed back. Something about seeing him like this made you truly feel every ounce of raw arousal for him almost every moment in the day. The added freedom to slip away whenever you liked only increased the desperate need you both shared for one another.

  The dark ink he’d always had marked in his skin, now accompanying two new additions. An oval design replicating Omega’s old headband along his bicep next to symbols he bore for all his siblings: Crosshair’s reticle design, a red band that stretched the entire circumference of his arm for Hunter’s bandana, a childish outline of lula for Wrecker, and Echo’s old handprint armor. He kept his siblings close to him, having marks for them just under his shoulder where their old squad logo lay. However the most recent addition to his body lay directly over his heart: your name in aurebesh.  

  Tech hadn’t warned you of the change, simply appearing one day with it over his pectoral and the explanation of, “I wanted to keep you close to heart”. Which promptly led to your heart beating as if it was going to bust. Well, that and some mind blowing time between the sheets to show just how much the gesture had meant to you. He still shrugged it off, as if the act were common sense. You beg to differ but were never going to argue with him over something so kind.

  Laying next to him every morning had come to feel like a dream. Days on Pabu were met with Tech’s talent for mechanics being put to good use, while you took on random tasks assisting him. That didn’t stop the frequent routine of sharing meals with Shep and his daughter, Tech’s siblings and occasionally Phee. After which, you both would make it back to your own private domicile - something Tech requested after some time given he didn’t enjoy being quiet when it came to giving you pleasure - before hopping into bed together. 

  Initially the transition had been difficult on Omega. The girl not used to Tech being under a different roof and still anxious from his time captured on Tantis away from her watchful eye, but once she discovered that Tech’s absence meant she had her own escape from the other boys she finally came around. 

  Each morning had come to be filled with sweet whispers rousing you from sleep, as Tech often rose before you. Not long after you had arrived, you both began taking the mornings to swim, before the island awoke. The gentle breeze, the calm lapping waves, and the way Tech’s brown eyes looked at dusk: perfection.

  However, with the amount he’d been working lately, you felt guilty about waking him up for something as trivial as a swim. He’d taken it on himself to fix all of lower Pabu, fortifying it against future storm surges so the island could function. This was great - if he wasn’t doing so single handedly, pushing off your attempts at helping him.

  Carefully you tried to maneuver your way out from under his arm, hoping that you could be gone and back before he woke up, but when you had just gotten your foot out from under the covers, said arm tightened, trapping you under a sudden burst of strength. Immediately being alert and aware were side effects of his programming, meaning the first stroke of being awoken meant he was at full capacity to react almost suddenly.  

  Sighing you gave up, knowing you had failed to slip away without him realizing and just allowed the man to pull you back into his chest as he tangled your legs together. A gruff tone to his voice as he whispered, “You really think you’re going without me?” into the skin of your neck. The way he almost purred the words as he wrapped himself around your body made you melt as he continued, kissing your neck as he mumbled, “not going to happen…” along that spot that always made you squirm. 

  “I just wanted you to rest-” you began and his sweet kisses turned to a playful nip as he shook his head, turning you around before you could react and pulling you on top of his body. In doing so the covers tumbled to the floor, leaving his beautiful bare body full on display as his hands sought out your rear, giving it a squeeze as your face fell into the crook of his neck. He smelled musky, as if he’d sweat a bit in the night, but you didn’t mind as. 

  “I got more than enough rest to be sufficient for my body to complete its tasks for the day,” he commented, eyes blinking open as he adjusted to the first crack of light coming through the open window. 

  “Sufficient doesn’t mean you couldn’t do with a bit more sleep,” you grumble as that light puff of air that indicated a sudo laugh came from his nose and his arms tightened around your lower back. 

  “Not at the expense of missing out on our early morning routine,” he commented, mentally preparing to get going on the day. Where he discovered such energy in the morning you’d never know. 

  “Just one day wouldn’t be the end of the world,” 

“I have a different opinion on the matter,” he challenged, reaching over to retrieve the goggles on the nightstand as you reached an arm up to stop him. He used them to hide from the world, but you refused to let him do so with you. 

  “You’ve been working so incredibly hard lately Tech, no one is going to get angry if you take a bit of a break,” you challenge as you remove your arm, seeing he gave up on reaching his frames. 

  “I am aware that there shall not be hostilities if I pause the rate at which I have been repairing the lower half of the city. But as I said, I have reasons for a differing perspective on the issue,” he states bluntly. 

  You loved Tech for many reasons. His brilliance. His ability to remain calm no matter the circumstances. Usually you enjoyed his bluntness, since it meant he was straight forward and there was no guessing. Having him dance around the issue was very out of the norm. 

  “Is something wrong?” you sighed through the question, leaning up on his chest as he looked around the room for a moment, letting his eyes settle back on you. 

  “No, I do not mean to cause worry or distress,” 

  “Then why can’t you tell me what it is that is causing you to work yourself to an early grave?” you question softly, hand cupping the side of his face as his eyes fluttered closed. Stubble caught along your thumb and you knew he’d shave it when he got out of bed, as he did every morning without fail. He loved his routines after all. 

  “I just want to make sure that this is a safe place for children,” he says quietly, eyes still closed. 

  “You know that ever since the wave, Shep moved the families with kids up above the wall, and allowed more of the older residents to migrate south. Omega is old enough she can handle herself anywhere on the island-” 

  “I am not talking about Omega,” Tech replies as he finally looks up, hopeful gaze in his eyes. 

  Suddenly it all made sense. The overprotective nature he’d had lately. His hard work repairing the lower section of the island. His hyperawareness at your health as of late. His acceptance of life here and mentioning how it was one of safety. Him pointing out neighbors with children and how fascinating they behaved. 

  “Tech, do you-” you began to ask and his eyes grew wide, almost as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. 

  “I would never encourage something given we have not discussed it before, nor would I take actions you were not okay with. I hardly know your opinions on the matter…” he trailed off in a rare occurrence, hands dragging over his face as if to hide. 

  “But?” you press carefully, tone not indicating malice or frustration, simply a need to understand where he was coming from. 

  “But yes, I have found myself interested in the idea of possibly having children. Naturally that is. With you.” he said it all so simply despite the very apparent war he seemed to be having with himself for saying it out loud. 

  “Oh,” you whisper. To be frank, the idea hadn’t really crossed your mind. Not that you were against it, per say, just hadn’t really imagined it. 

  “We do not need to discuss it, and I shall continue fixing the walls regardless as it is a benefit to all who live here on Pabu-”

“Tech,” you cut him off with a small smile. 

  “Yes?” 

“Can we continue this conversation out of bed? I would like to hear all your ideas on the matter but I’d like to be in a neutral location if we are going to discuss them. Besides, I’ll never get over how wonderful you look in that early morning light in the water,” you tell him softly. 

  Tech looks up hopefully into your eyes, seeing the way they soften for him. Something tells him that he has nothing to fear, as a practical discussion of such matters is important for anyone attempting to bring life into the world with the one they love. Especially for someone as logically minded as him. You can’t help but laugh at the way he nearly hurls you onto the floor as he begins rushing about the room, pulling on something to swim in while encouraging you to hurl it along. 

  It’s in that room where you decide perhaps he’s onto something, and that maybe the two of you are ready for those next steps. But for now, the sun and sand are calling your name. Well, that and your love, who can’t wait to talk about the future with you as the sun peaks over the horizon. 

NOW CLICK TO READ PART TWO (NSFW)!!!

[amoristt]

PART 2 BAYBEEE this has completely revamped my love for marble hornets . anon i literally love u SOOO bad for reminding me of this time to binge the entirety of mh for the 10th time

-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - wanna tip me? heres my kofi!

Escape Fate | Tim (Masky) x Reader Pt. 2

prev

"For fuck's sake!"

The engine of your car cries out as you jam the gas down to the floor. Rock spit out from your tires, fishtailing out as you struggled to juggle the steering wheel and hanging up the cell phone in your hand. Every couple of seconds your eyes would flick to the rear view just in case that... person was chasing you.

Tim was never known for his ability to answer on the first call. Sometimes the man wouldn't answer at all- you knew this. It was never an issue until now, your mind scrambling to focus on the road. You'd narrowly escaped with your life and it was all thanks to some masked stranger.

With an angry huff, you toss your phone onto the passenger seat and white knuckle the steering wheel, eyes fixated on the road. Flashes of your meeting with death play on rewind in the back of your mind like a projector. The deranged look on Alex's face down to the moment you'd locked eyes with your savior.

Your mind spins on where your destination lies, but it chooses your home. You drive in total silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your car and the wind howling through your cracked window. It's almost like being on autopilot, your eyes distant and far away as you pulled into the driveway. Somewhere deep in your brain, you knew that you should have gone to the police station, but yet you still pull yourself from your car and numbly unlock your front door before slipping inside without a word.

It only takes a few moments before you let yourself fall into your couch cushions. You'd been so close to death you swore you felt its breath down your neck. The warbled memories you have of the masked man force their way to the forefront of your mind. You had so many questions- who was he? Why had he given a shit to save you?

Why did he follow you out to the street?

The thought of him possibly not saving you, just choosing Alex first strikes you, and it draws a cold sweat from your skin. Perhaps you hadn't been saved at all.

Worry spreads like wildfire through you, and in seconds you're up and locking every single window in the house, double-checking any doorways. You want to put on the deadbolt for the front door, but then Tim couldn't get in. You settle back on the couch, glad that other than the coffee table and recliner chair, you had a perfect view of the front door in case anyone tried to break in. The only window was along the far wall with its blinds drawn. Still, sunlight filtered in through the cracks.

A clatter on the floor beside causes every fiber in your being to jump, but when you glance over the edge, you realize it's just your phone falling from your pocket onto the hardwood floor. The screen lights up.

Low battery.

You pick it up and send Tim an urgent message, demanding he come over as soon as possible. And if he sees Alex, run.

Exhaustion riddles you. It doesn't feel real anymore, the memories flashing through your mind. They seem like the frames of a movie now, warped and far away and quite frankly insane. It felt like a nightmare that you'd woken up from, not reality.

After a good sleep to collect yourself, you would go to the police and tell them everything that had happened. And when you woke up, maybe Tim would be there smiling at you from the chair and asking if you were alright. He would touch your face and kiss your forehead, climb onto the couch beside you, and pull you against him. He would make you feel safe.

The idea comforts you enough to lull you to sleep.

--

You don't dream of anything. In fact, if the sun hadn't sunk down beneath the horizon and cast the world in night, you wouldn't even have known you slept at all.

Groggy-eyed and tired, you crack your eyes open. The first thing you notice is how unbelievably dark it is. From your position on your back, looking straight up, you can't even make out where the ceiling begins. Your eyes struggle to adjust, finding the only light in the room to be the streetlights cascading in through the window. With the blinds open on the far right, the light pours in just enough to fill the room midway in orange.

The second thing you notice makes your blood run cold underneath your skin.

You'd had your blinds completely shut when you fell asleep.

You were sure of it. But now they're open on one side. Your mouth runs dry.

Slowly, as if afraid to alert something, or someone, you roll onto your side and tap at the floor in search of your phone. When you're finally able to find it, you tap the power button. Then, when nothing happens, you feel your stomach churn.

It was fucking dead. You'd forgotten to plug it in before your slumber.

And to make matters worse, a third thing gathers all of your attention at once: movement.

Right across from you, perched up on the reclining chair, you make out a pair of jeans and heavy, dark boots. Fear strikes you like a lance. Your breath completely stops in your throat. In the dead silence, you're horrified to realize you can hear breathing that wasn't your own. Slow, long drawn breaths, like the figure was simply observing you.

Maybe it was Tim. You had messaged him hours ago, maybe he'd come in while you were sleeping and didn't want to disturb you.

"Tim?" Your voice cracks as you whisper, fear gripping you by the neck. Doubled when he doesn't answer. Tripled when those legs shift just barely. The energy seeping from the figure is downright evil.

Dread engulfs you as you realize your fate. It was Alex. It had to be. He'd broken in and waited for you to wake up like it was some sick fucking game to him, and trapped you within the confines of your very own home.

All alone, with your phone dead on the floor.

You hope you're just dreaming still. But then his breathing picks up and you're plummeted back into the awful reality that was your inevitable death. And instead of running, fighting, struggling for your life and doing something to get away, you just sit there. You remain still as a statue- like somehow he hadn't seen you. Like if you just don't move, neither will he. The moment is long and agonizingly silent, the air thick with tension, your lungs unable to bring in oxygen.

Time passes in slow motion and your eyes struggle to adjust to the everlong darkness. If you weren't abhorrently frozen with fear, you'd probably just burst out crying right there, pathetically begging for your life. You didn't want to die- not fucking now, when you knew the one finding your body would end up being Tim. Not by Alex, someone you considered your friend.

You always knew he'd been losing a few screws but for fucks sake this was murder.

"Please," You start, voice barely even above a dying whisper. "Don't hurt me."

That same feeling of death's breath on the nape of your neck returns to you. Goosebumps riddle your skin. The air so palpable you could reach out and grab it in the anticipation of his response.

The chair creaks. You almost gag on your tongue. The figure leans forward and rests his gloved hands on his knees. Light finally catches his features and you make out a white mask, with dark eyes and painted lips. That same mask that was running laps in your mind since you'd seen it.

Fear saps up and down your spine like electricity. The man had followed you home.

You hate that you stay stuck in place as he get's up from his crouched position and slowly saunters towards you. Like an animal, he climbs onto the coffee table and towers over you with shadowed eyes. Frantically, you search for something, anything human in those dark eyes. You find nothing but shadows. The man feels almost feral, tilting his head side to side as he drew closer to you. His gloved hand reaches out, and traces a line down your jaw, just barely touching over your skin.

Something in the way he touches you finally causes you to react. It makes the moment real, you could feel him touching you. You heave yourself up and try to scrabble off the couch, kicking your legs out. But he's faster. He's stronger- and in the blink of an eye, he grabs your shoulders and hauls you onto your back once more, forced to watch up at him with helpless eyes. When you try to shove him away, he catches your hands and pins them beside your head at the wrists. How simple it is for him to restrain you is terrifying. He wasn't even trying and he still managed to trap you in a second's notice.

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" You babble, eyes squeezed shut and your legs uselessly kicking out. He straddles you and you sob in vain. "Please, my boyfriend will be here any moment just- just leave! I won't tell!"

But the man just tilts his head again. Does it like he doesn't understand.

You're already in tears when he barely loosens his grip on your wrists. Dreadful reality dawns upon you, and you realize you had been right after all. He hadn't saved you. You escaped him just as much as you'd escaped Alex.

Tears slip down your cheeks. He just inches closer until you can hear the sound of his soft breaths from behind his mask. If God was around, he'd hear your endless prayers begging for the strength to get away or for someone to help you.

But clearly, he isn't, because the man lets your wrists go just long enough to touch the sides of your face. Slowly, carefully, they pet down your skin and wipe away those tears freely falling from your wide eyes. And Christ, you let him. You could be fighting back, snarling and clawing. Instead, you're barely breathing, frozen and feeling your life tick away by the second.

He dips his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers ball into fists beside your head, and you feel him breathing you in.

"What the fuck." You whimper, shaking like a leaf underneath his form. The seconds pass like hours.

After a tense pause, the only audible sound being your combined heavy breaths, he pulls his head away a few inches to look into your eyes. Though you struggle to see his, you can feel them on you like fire. Like those eyes are wrapping around your neck, choking your breath away.

And then you really do think your breath is stolen from you- gone when you feel the unmistakable texture of his gloves move once more. He runs his fingers down your bare neck, to your shoulder. Feather light touches over your collarbones that make you squirm underneath him. Those fingers linger over the line of your cleavage and your stomach flips.

They only stay for a few seconds. Then they're southbound which causes an even heavier pit of dread to settle in your stomach. His head tilts while he explores your clothed body, the fabric of your tank top bunching up around his fingertips. He moves them slowly, languidly, like he's exploring you. Trying to memorize the point where your waist meets your hips.

In the worst way imaginable, it feels... Familiar. You can't put your finger on it but you've been touched like this before, had the curves of your soft skin mapped out by wandering large hands. The same path, the same lingering pauses... The low sounds of his soft breaths reach your ears, and you recognize them.

Your chest heaves, your skin warm.

Only further blossoming in heat when the man leans back and you feel the weight of him rest on your hips. His hands settle on your waist, his burning gaze lingers over your form. The streetlight filtering in paints the outline of him. Glows in the loose strands of brown, messy hair.

Reveals his brown cargo jacket and the broad build of his shoulders. Your lips part in a gasp. His head lowers and you catch a glimpse of that unmistakable facial hair just as his fingers dip underneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Your skin vibrates under his touch. You can't take it anymore.

"Tim...?"

You'd said it so quietly that you almost wonder if he'd heard it at all.

But he did. He freezes and snaps his gaze straight to you. The first real reaction you'd gotten out of him so far- and it only further confirms your question.

Your mind reels, thoughts spinning out of control. It feels like you're dreaming all over again.

The man- Tim, straightens his back as he stares down at you, his gaze heavy and undeniable. Even fully clothed underneath him, you feel naked. So exposed. His hands retract from under your shirt and rest at his sides loosely.

You'd always known Tim struggled with mental illness. Even early on in the relationship, it was a known fact after you'd found his medication. He always refused to elaborate beyond just telling you he was 'managing' it- and though you of course always felt a sense of curiosity to know more, you didn't want to pry. Plus, it was true. He was managing it. You'd never seen a single outburst, episode, or really... Anything other than some paranoia. And even that never got the best of him.

Just as you were his, he was your comfort, your peace.

But this was something else entirely. This wasn't even him anymore- it couldn't be. This man was too animalistic, moved too feral for it to be true.

Yet this appearance rang true.

His thick brown hair, and squared shoulders. His usual attire and those sideburns that only he could pull off.

But you had to be sure.

You had to be sure that they shared the same face. The same soulful, tired eyes.

To your shock, Tim doesn't react when you prop yourself up to your elbows. Nor does he react when you slowly reach up with a tentative hand and graze your fingers along the hard edge of his mask. You touch at the side of his face- the only visible skin. He sighs when you make contact, long and drawn, almost as if he enjoys the feeling. Just barely, he leans into the touch.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

Drops when you tug at the elastic band holding the mask to his head, and he finally reacts.

Violently.

Tim rips away from you like you'd burned him and stumbles backward, failing to climb off you properly and instead flipping over the armrest at your feet. You hear his back smack the hard ground with a thud and then absolute silence.

The silence only lasts so long. Because suddenly there's clamoring, his feet kicking out, and by the time you're up and peering over the edge of the armrest he seems to be full-blown seizing there on the floor.

Now this you had seen before.

Like every other time, you rush to his side, mind completely forgetting the entire scenario that'd happened moments ago. As much as you want to grab him, hold him close until it's passed, you know you can't. Instead, you kneel beside him, covering your mouth, silently begging for it to be over with, counting the time in 30 second intervals.

The light outside finally shines over his mask. You see his eyes through the gaps.

Thirty seconds.

His body tense, finger's balling into fists. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.

One minute.

You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Minute, thirty seconds.

"Tim!"

Finally, like he hears you, he stills. Your heart thrashes in your chest.

In the blink of an eye, you're pulling at the bands of his mask. It peels away with little restrain, and there he is.

Tim. Your Tim. His eyelashes resting heavy over his cheekbones- like he'd simply fallen asleep. Like he'd been here the whole time completely unbothered. His lips are barely parted enough for his soft breaths to creep through. You aren't sure if you should feel relief or fear. All you feel is raw confusion and anxiety eating you alive.

First Alex, now this? What the hell was going on?

Tim makes a soft sound and you look at him with wide eyes, cautious in the waking presence of the man you'd once felt to be your protector. What would you do if he remained the same as before? If when he opened his eyes, you were assaulted all over again?

Another quiet chirp escapes him, and you reach out to gently hold his face. When his eyes finally open, you're the first thing they see. A part of you tells yourself to back away just in case. The rest of you demands you stay planted beside him no matter what.

You listen to the ladder.

His gloved hands come up to paw at your wrists and for a moment, you're afraid your worries proved true. But then, in his low voice, he speaks. And you nearly collapse onto him, a puddle of solace.

"Baby...?"

[diamo-chan]

Sometimes I still picture Rime as the epitome of healing. If only we yould mend his heart, then he could heal the scattered shriveled shards of my soul with such effortless ease with little snippets of domestic comfort

Just imagine the pissed expression on his face as he stops to heal a wound, instead of ripping whoever caused it to shreds. Because he is trying to set priorities that don't clash with yours, as you try to get his (attempted) murder charges list to... at least not get any longer.

Imagine him cooking something that reminds him of his childhood, while recounting stories and happenings. Because he knows that the only way to cease your reoccuring questions is to provide you with mental pictures of a tiny rime sneaking off to watch the cooks in the kitchen. And at least he could focus his attention on not spoiling the dish.

He is absendmindedly humming melodies, that are quite famous in Astraea. Might even quietly sings certain parts and blush cause you aren't subtle about staring.

Imagine him talking about Vairi as a language because you've expressed interest ever since Felix translation- spell wore off. And he's a little antsy because it's a part of him and his past and family. Along with the language, he introduces you to little traditions, while teaching you the basics, like how to say "please" and "thank you" and "I love my hot, smart and awesome boyfriend".

You already know multiple curse words, from listening to him train to get a grasp on his old light-based magic again, with traces of corruption still in his body. After each session, you bring him some tea to recharge. It tastes terrible, but he downs it each time, cause you put effort in the research of the recipe. He always wishes his new limits away in the most foul- mouthed ways possible, it leaves him especially drained. Please check on him regularly, cause he will exhaust himself to the point where you'll be forced to drag him back to his room to force rest on him.

You might share a bed, but he will strictly divide the blankets and pillows. Each of you gets their own, and so he doesn't accidentally tuggs yours off when nightmares catch up with him. And they do quite regularly, since he only started dreaming again when his heart was no longer occupied by raging hatred.

Usually, you wake up alone, with Rime wide awake and busy with anything to keep his mind off of the horrors of the night. Your flat will always be clean, dishes done, laundry done, paperwork done, attic, cupboards and basement organized. Even when you tell him that he doesn't need to do it, he reassures you, that it's his way of chasing inner peace.

Rarely you're blessed with waking up to Rime with his back turned to you, sunlight glittering on the soft white fur of his ears. And a gentle snore you'd never point out because of how rare it is for him to let his guard down or allow himself the luxury to sleep in. Those moments give you hope.

[t-in-a-box]

Freddy Krueger X F!Reader - Detention

Freddy knows you like him and idk puts up a scenario of a school environment cuz he found out you'd enjoy it or smth xd

Warnings: Freddy being himself, rather forced confession, suggesting of smut (just a little hehe)

You found yourself on your seat in your classroom. The fact that you were all alone wasn't the only odd thing you noticed. For an unknown reason you had a schoolgirl uniform on. A white bottom-up t-shirt with a deep blue collar, a matching blue skirt with two white stripes on the hem, a red scarf tie, a pair of long white socks and shiny black shoes. The skirt was way too short and could barely reach your knees.

Suddenly you heard ear-splitting noise. You covered your ears and turned your head to see what made such awful sound. The chalkboard. A chalk wrote by itself to the board. The sentence made you shiver. It read: "Learning is fun WITH FREDDY!". So you were in a dream, like you had already assumed.

Your mind rushed as you tried to think a way to escape the burnt asshole before it was too late. You decided to leave the building as quickly as possible. You got up from your seat and headed to the door but managed only to take a few steps before the door opened.

There stood Freddy with a big grin on his thin lips. His clothes weren't the usual neither. He had a red and green striped sweater west, a white bottom-up shirt beneath that, dark brown pants that were surprisingly clean looking, leather boots, and a red and green bow tie. You gulped taking a step back. On the right side of his west he had a name tag that said: Mr. Krueger, the headmaster.

"Well, well. Ms. (L/n) isn't trying to leave the detention, is she?" Freddy's tone was rather teaseful and it was obvious that he enjoyed the situation.

"What is this shit? I just want to sleep," you said as another shiver went down your spine. Freddy lurked closer.

"Ah, ah. Mind your tone," he smirked. You glared him.

"What's with these costumes?" you asked, mainly to play time to plan an exit. This time he chuckled.

"I figured you'd like this sort of stuff," he answered, with an amused tone.

"Just what are you talking about? Why would I 'like this sort of stuff'?" you spoke, getting more annoyed of the male in front of you.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, sweet-cheeks. I did my re-search, and Dolly, you're an open book full of messy fantasies like this one," Freddy couldn't have looked more proud of himself. His words made you blush again.

"F-fair enough, but that doesn't mean I want anything to do with you," the escape plan was the last thing on your mind at that moment. You wanted desperately to know how much he knew. He took some steps towards you and was only a few feet apart.

"Ah, yes. I also found out another interesting thing about you. Tell me, what kind of person has feelings towards the man who kills her friends?" you mentally face-palmed. This really was your nightmare...

"Y-you're out of your mind..." you murmured, not being able to look at him in the eyes.

He took yet another step, closing the cap between you two. His hot breath brushed against your right ear as he whispered: "Am I?". His tone wasn't threatening, but rather serious, like he wanted you to admit it to him. 'Not going to happen!' you thought.

You huffed, changing the subject; "Where did you leave the glove?"

Freddy smirked again. If you wanted to play hard to get he was more than happy to play with you. "You'll be a good little girly and we won't need it, won't we?" he answered.

You shook your head. "Just like that," he grinned cockily, "Shall we begin the detention?"

"Whatever." you spoke. If you just keep him preoccupied long enough, you'll get to sleep and he won't try to kill you the whole night...

"Excellent! First up, you'll have to answer a few questions. A simple yes or no will do fine. And before we start, if your answer is wrong, a piece of clothing you're wearing disappears. Are you ready?"

What an absolute ass...

"Yeah, bring it on," you answered grumpily. It was true that you had feelings for him, for a reason you didn't even know yourself, but did he still have to be such dick?

"The first question goes; Are you a virgin?" his eyes flickered at excitement. Yup, he was a full-time dick.

"I'm not a virgin, Freddy," you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but blush a little. Actually, you were one, but you didn't want to say it out loud to the bastard.

"It's Mr. Krueger to you, and your answer was... Wrong!"

The red tie you had disappeared. How on earth did he know these things? "Alright! I am! Asshole..." the last word you murmured quietly.

"I heard that. Say goodbye to your socks!" he laughed. The son of a bitch just laughed at you. Your socks were gone, and so were your shoes.

"The second question; Are you attracted to me?" he had such shit-eating grin on his face...

"I... Yes..." you mumbled.

"I can't hear you," his voice was full of enjoyment and self-satisfaction.

"Yes! Just quit clowning around and kiss me already!" you shouted before you realized and quickly covered your mouth with your hand.

"With pleasure, princess!" he answered taking your hand from your mouth, and pressing his burnt lips against yours. You huffed, kissing him back. He licked your lips before biting the lower one gently enough. Needless to say you were a blushing mess afterwards.

"Are you ready for the final question?" Freddy asked with a huge grin.

"Yeah.." you said, still being a little dumb-founded about what had just happened.

"Okay, here it goes; Should we take this further?" so that's why he was having such big grin about...

"N-no I think I'm fine..." you said as your face flushed again. Before you knew it, your shirt was gone.

"Gee, you really should quit lying. It's a nasty habit for a Sweetheart like yourself..."

[nokingsonlyfooles]

The Dark Secret of Zootopia? (Part 2, "Work twice as hard for half as much!")

Welcome back! We're still talking about how Zootopia swung for the fences with its racism metaphor and probably didn't manage much more than hitting itself in the face! We've already talked about how hard it is to get people to unpack their own biases. Today's subject is the bunny who thought "standing up for the little guy" meant becoming a cop.

(Oh, Judy, hon, no. I know you're a bit sheltered and conservative, and your family seems to be doing some kinda culty Quiverfull thing, but no.)

To understand how this movie - which started out as a dark dystopia where every predator wore systemic oppression around their neck - missed the target so badly with Judy's story, we gotta look at something else that was still going strong in 2016, when Zootopia came out.

If you need to see more on how the myth of Black excellence applies to President Drone Strikes O'Flint Water specifically, F. D. Signifier has an informative series of videos on the subject. Among other things, the idea of "Black excellence" suggests that systemic oppression can (and should) be fought on an individual basis. To do so, one must expect to "work twice as hard to get half as much." This isn't parsed as something unfair that needs to be changed, but just a fact of life that you'll have to deal with to get anywhere.

...And once you've achieved your dreams, you've proven it can be done! If someone wants this badly enough, they can do it. Period. So nobody else has an excuse for not grinding themselves into a paste to tackle the same unfair system you've beaten. (Assuming you wanted it badly enough to beat that system yourself.)

People who are learning a physically and mentally demanding new job don't need to, like, sleep, do they? Sleep is a luxury for those privileged folks we expect to be good cops. Not for a tiny prey species who needs to prove she can make it in the big city and take out animals ten times her size in all terrains, just so they can shunt her into meter maid duty because they never wanted her in the first place.

A troper notes (on the Heartwarming moments page, because people have a real hard time unpacking their biases, especially when they see them as a metaphor with plausible deniability)

Ha-ha, yeah. They knew they were getting a bunny cop and they knew exactly where they wanted to put her. Well, she can't do too much damage as a meter maid!

"All right, we're getting an obvious political 'affirmative action' hire in a few weeks. Will someone requisition me the most ridiculous car on the continent, so we can quietly fire her and get back to doing real work?"

Meanwhile:

"Oh, your coworker slammed your ears in the door of a vehicle that's ten times too big to be safe for you? That sounds like a YOU problem. You're DEAD, Carrot Cake!"

"You're dead, Carrot Cake" is from the actual film. Let's remove the cartoon metaphor and take a look at that. Species = race, broadly. So if Judy were the only Latinx police recruit, how cute and funny would it be to call her, "Pinto Bean"? And there are even worse possible contexts! How does "You're dead, Watermelon" sound to you? Should a Black recruit be required to shake that off and keep training, or should somebody at least complain to HR? (Is that "AR" in this context...?)

"Yes, sir, I did force the bunny recruit to box a rhinoceros and then yell at her for incurring evident head trauma, but, ya see, when she figured out how to scale a wall of solid ice with no accommodations for her size, I smiled approvingly!"

"...So we're good, right?"

This is all played utterly straight. This is a full-on Rocky Balboa training montage, with the polar bear teacher as Burgess Meredith. The transitions are fast, and we don't slow down long enough to consider Judy's feelings until she's starting her new job and she politely asks Clawhauser not to call her "cute."

We don't turn around and examine the fact that her polar bear teacher was hammering the "cute" button pretty hard too, and Judy never spoke up and asked to be respected. One doesn't, as a rule, talk back to an antagonist who can invalidate one out of one's dream job, so that's reasonable behavior from Miss Hopps. But the movie doesn't have time to hammer home that context. No, you see, Judy wasn't very good at policing, and the polar bear was a tough-but-fair mentor who was obviously rooting for her the whole time (that smile!) and motivated her to do better. Now, back to the plot!

The one moment we pause and showcase how broken Judy is by her unfair treatment is in the bathroom...

And it's for a gag. (And foreshadowing a later toilet escape.) Ha-ha, the polar bear teacher is there to remind her that not being able to use a swimming-pool-sized toilet is a YOU problem too. My god, we don't even get one of these white saviour moments!

"Everyone pees the same size!"

Just, "Filthy toilet! You're dead!" If you wanna be a cop, you better learn to piss while crouched on the edge of an above-ground pool, 'cos we're not even gonna offer you a toilet seat in your size. And, no, we will not address how unfair that is!

There are people existing in real-life who get frozen out of certain careers because the equipment doesn't come in their size. (There's a Guardian article in there and they don't always cover gender in good faith, but there are a bunch of in-line citations in it. Just tread carefully.) In most cases, we call them "women." And when their lives are being put at risk and their jobs being made impossible, we also tell them to "girl boss" up and do it anyway. These jobs have certain physical requirements (even if that requirement is something artificial and totally nonsensical like "have hands in glove size medium or larger, 'cos we ain't got any small") and you'll have to meet them somehow!

I gotta tell you folks, police work is mostly clerical work, and when they do get into a physical altercation, they do not fight fair.

Do you need a citation for that? You're living on the same planet I am, and you are on the internet right now. If you don't buy that a police officer in an altercation with a rhino wouldn't be engaging on level ground with Marquis of Queensbury fighting rules, I can't convince you.

In real life, Judy would have a nightstick, a gun, a taser (which she could conveniently get mixed up with the aforementioned gun), a non-comical car, and backup. In fact, her fellow cop yells at her not to continue a pursuit on foot and to wait for backup when she goes after Weaselton and his "moldy onions."

"Also, you're entering what appears to be a sized-based ghetto with its own police force! WTF, Officer Hopps?!"

Nick Angel isn't the standard to which all cops should aspire, he's a bit of an arsehole who needs to learn how to switch off.

(Also, if you see someone shoplifting food... no you fucking well didn't. Bad form, Nick.)

The only point to making Judy jump through all those hoops for the privilege of writing parking tickets is to get her to quit. Assigning her meter maid duty, and then putting her on an investigation when she can't even get license plate information out of the computers (and giving her 48 hours to solve a case that's been ongoing for months!) is also meant to get her to quit. Nick doesn't come from a bunny-majority town...

(Seriously, there is some cult-like activity going on here. There are bunny parents in the city with only one kid, this does not seem normal in-universe.)

...and he's more used to being marginalized, so he sees it right away. He calls out Bogo's bullshit and gets more time for Judy to complete an unreasonable task - and she pulls it off. Even the shitty chief who was trying to get her fired has to sit up and respect her after that!

"Wow, I'm impressed!"

Ultimately, that's the problem. But that's where our collective American brain was when this movie was being made.

We had a solid eight years there where we thought racism was over because we finally had a Black President. We also had a constant, low-grade anxiety about all the indications that this was clearly not the case, but we were able to ignore them. It seemed kinda rude to do anything other than ignore them. Obama worked so hard, and so many people were still trying to hold him to an unfair standard. Couldn't we just let him do a few war crimes like every other American President?

We could and we did, but then we had a racist backlash that made Obama's worst excesses look like a walk in the park. And many (not anywhere near all) of us have been motivated to unpack how broken the system is, and look at the past a little more critically.

But in early 2016? No way! We had a Black guy in the White House, and we were gonna get a WOMAN in the White House (for sure!) and everything was gonna be fine. Oh, thank goodness those rugged individuals were able to smash through the glass ceiling, so it would stay broken forever. That's what glass does! It was a good, simple optimistic story - like Hamilton!

...and something obvious and easy to fall back on when the Nick-centred, darker story didn't seem to be working out. Racism is real (and that's hard enough for the audience to grasp, so let's back off a little), but a few determined individuals can fix it for everyone. All you have to do is keep Trying! You can Try Everything! You might fall down (or be pushed, or have your body parts slammed in a car door) but you can get back up and win!

Even in the dark version, in the end, Nick and Judy get rid of the "tame" collars. I posit that the only reason Disney felt safe making a movie about racism in the first place was that at the time, we honestly thought racism could be solved - and we're solving it right now! Quick! Animate that message with funny animals so we can tell the kids!

We don't need to see Nick training to be a cop! I'm sure it's fine. Judy took out the bias ahead of him. Hilary won't have any trouble getting into the White House. It's fine now. It's FINE.

Months later, we got a big, orange clue-by-four that was impossible to ignore, but Zootopia was already on its way to a video release in time for Christmas. Its hope and optimism stands cluelessly to this day. And if you're not ready to think about racism as a complex, systemic issue (or at ALL) it won't make you.

So! Do you want more on this? "Like" and reblog if you want more, 'cos I can give you way more. Next time, if you want, we can talk about this stuff:

(WTFox?!)

...and the good and bad of how the narrative dealt with it.

[roguelibrarian]

First sentences game!

tagged by @altschmerzes (thanks bro!!!)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

I've decided to steal altschmerzes' idea and only use WIPs that I haven't posted because I think that's more fun. Also keep in mind, these are all unpublished WIPs, so almost none of what you're about to see has been edited.

As for tagging...hoo boy, do I even know 10 fic writers anymore who Gav didn't also tag? I'm not sure I do, so if you see this and want to participate, you can go ahead and say I tagged you.

Putting the rest of this under a cut so it doesn't eat up anyone's entire dash.

1. untitled Kept from the Light sequel/finale

Obi-Wan drained the last dregs of caf from his cup before setting it down with a heavy sigh.  Weariness tugging at his eyelids, he poured himself another cup and drained nearly half of it in one gulp.  Sleep hadn’t come back easily after he’d woken in a cold sweat from a dream about Anakin. About the massacre. It was a string of images and memories.  Caleb Dume’s terrified face as he told the Council what he’d seen.  Anakin’s eyes, wild with anger, as he fought to the bitter end against the Jedi tasked with bringing him in.  The twelve bodies laid out, awaiting their funerals.  Six of them impossibly small. Caf wasn’t going to fix this.

2. untitled main fic in my Across the Stars series, also known as the Starkiller Leia AU

Starkiller was bored. In theory, she was above things like boredom.  In theory, she spent every waking moment training, preparing for her next mission. In theory. In practice, she was kriffing bored.

3. Duel of the Dads, my "crack treated seriously" fic in which Kanan and Ezra need to team up with both Maul and Hondo and it's about as stressful as you would expect

Warmth and softness surrounded him on all sides, a cocoon of safety and love.  It felt like…home.  Smelled like it, too, now that he thought about it.  And the soft hum floating to his ears sounded almost like his parents’ voices when they were too far away for him to hear exactly what they were saying. Ezra opened his eyes, blinking in confusion as he took in his surroundings.  He was home.  This was his parents’ house, his childhood bedroom, looking exactly as it had the last morning he woke up here.  Before everything fell apart. Slowly, he stood, his throat tightening as he got a better look at the room.  Deep down, he knew this shouldn’t be possible, but for a moment, he let himself not care.  He’d thought he would never see this place again, and he was going to let himself bask in it as long as he could. No sooner had the thought entered his mind when something shifted.  The air suddenly felt colder, and the drone of his parents’ voices vanished.  There was something wrong; some sticky, clinging feeling that crawled up his spine and burrowed its way into his bones.

4. the untitled deep cover agent AU, also known as extreme gaslighting: amnesia edition

A-wing interceptors had long since become synonymous with the Rebellion.  Each and every one of them may as well have had the Starbird painted on their hulls.  Those who piloted them were feared, admired, avoided, or shot down on sight depending on the planet.  And so, as the small ship dropped out of hyperspace above Coruscant’s atmosphere, Ezra knew it wouldn’t be long before Imperial forces moved to intercept him.

5. untitled Emperor Maul AU fic

(so you know how in my "Maul finds Ezra first" AUs, Maul is raising Ezra with this idea that one day they'll defeat Palpatine? yeah, this is the AU where they actually manage to do that, leading to Maul accidentally-on-purpose ruling the galaxy.)

Ezra’s heart pounded in his throat as the lift descended.  He clung to his lightsaber so tightly that his fingers ached.  Even though his Master stood right beside him, he was alone, as if the rest of the galaxy outside his own head had just dropped away. Control your fear.  The voice in Ezra’s head was somewhere between his own and his master’s.  Ezra gripped his weapon even tighter, letting his anger well up within him and drown out the fear.  He was more than ready for this.  This was the purpose he’d been raised for.  Sidious had tortured his Master, used him, and then thrown him away.  And today, he would finally pay for it.

6. untitled Sith Sabine AU, in which Maul stays in power on Mandalore and Sabine is both Force sensitive and Maul's apprentice

Sabine’s eyes snapped open at the barely audible sound of a vent sliding open.  She stayed still, her muscles relaxed, feigning sleep.  Quiet metallic steps crawled down the wall, the pattern indicating at least six legs. All at once, the clanking of metal against stone stopped.  Still Sabine didn’t move, keeping her breath steady and even as she waited.  Any second now… There was a soft scraping noise and Sabine could sense the droid hurtling through the air toward her.

7. yet another untitled fic that I've been referring to as the Malachor AU

(this one I started writing/planning at the same time as Lost and Found. it's another AU where Maul kidnapped Ezra as a small child, but in this one Ezra and Kanan meet on Malachor)

Ezra had never felt so small in his life.  Here on Malachor, surrounded on all sides by the Force, the Temple towering above him, he was a meaningless speck in thousands of years of history and power. He wasn’t afraid.  Intimidated, maybe, but not afraid.  The knowledge that was hidden within the Temple was his birthright.  And this time, he would finally claim it.

8. another "Order 66 didn't happen" AU, in which Ezra is kidnapped by Maul as a kid, but in this one Maul doesn't kill his parents, and angst ensues

The dream had mostly faded already by the time Ezra figured out how to move.  He drew his knees up to his chest as he huddled in the corner, his stomach doing backflips.  What little he did remember made him feel like hundreds of tiny bugs were crawling across his skin. Shadows surrounding him.  Barely being able to breathe.  Struggling against something that wouldn’t let go. He stiffened, all thoughts of the dream vanishing from his mind, at the sound of footsteps in the corridor.  He shrank back into the corner as the door slid open to reveal his Master.  Ezra lowered his gaze, blinking rapidly.  Even the dim light in the corridor was nearly blinding in the complete darkness of his cell.

9. an upcoming "In the Shadows" fic, in which Kanan and Ezra finally escape the Inquisitors...by getting themselves captured by the Rebellion

He and Kanan were the only ones in the room, so Ezra let himself slouch as he leaned against the wall.  The other Inquisitors expected more decorum from him, but Kanan still let him get away with it.  Not that Ezra had much capacity to care right now.  After spending all day reaching into the minds of stormtroopers and officers, Ezra’s own head was filling with pressure and static.  Something was grating against the inside of his skin, which felt like it had been stuck onto his body all wrong.

10. the next (again, untitled) "In the Blood" fic, in which Ezra stares at that holo of himself and his parents for too long and has a small nervous breakdown

Ezra had been staring at the image so long that his eyes were starting to ache, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.  In the holo, he and his parents all looked so happy.  So normal.  His father had no idea that the little boy in front of him wasn’t his.  That he was a monster born out of darkness.

also, I know it said 10, but I'm gonna add on an 11th one as a bonus. this is from a fic that I don't know if I'll ever post because I've been considering reworking it as original fiction but I've been kicking this idea around for like, years and I low-key really want to share it

11. untitled modern AU in which Maul is a serial killer and also Ezra's dad via kidnapping, because I am a parody of myself but I'm leaning into it now

“The body found in the Cowen Forest Preserve has now been identified as nineteen-year-old Hannah Walsh.  Police are attributing this death to the serial killer known as the Mauler, making this the killer’s twenty-seventh known victim.  The public is advised to –” Ezra slammed the button to shut off the radio.  Up until now, it had been doing its job as background noise, keeping him from getting distracted by his own thoughts.  But the news about the body found a few days ago had driven him right back to the things he wanted to avoid.

[shaisuki]

ANGEL OF MINE

ITOSHI SAE X CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── fluff, angst if you squint, edging, smut, sae being a tease, body insecurities

notes. dedicated for @blooming-aster .

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ sae got an angel and it's you.

sae wouldn't deny that outside of soccer, his knowledge about everything is nothing.

yet, he indulge himself with things that reminds him of home. ask him his favorite tv show, he would answer chibi maruko-chan. in which people find it odd, a prodigy like sae liking cartoons but everyone's eccentric in this world and he's allowed to like everything and he couldn't care what others would say.

soccer is his dream. soccer is his passion. sae lives in this mundane life of his where he had nothing to do but to wake up and play soccer and he thought it would be his whole life in the remaining days of his life and it doesn't prepare him when you turned his world upside down.

it took a lot for him to process that he have someone now and soccer isn't the only purpose he have in life. understanding that soccer the sport he played his whole life, poured blood, sweat and tears into it would be the only thing he believes but now when you came into his life. a new light surrounds him.

his new purpose is to love you.

it was slow. sae had said he doesn't know nothing besides soccer let alone being in a relationship. he heard his teammates about their significant others, their side chicks and their arm-candies weekly and it's different when he have you.

it took him months to adjust to be with you. to feel everything was normal. he still can't believe there was you besides him when he wakes up, your sleeping face would greet him. snoring softly, baby hairs draped into your forehead and then to your cheeks. are you for real? he would ask that sometimes.

sae thinks back, reminiscing on how you plague his thoughts every damn time. he should be focusing on his soccer. on his plays. he can't fuck things up. he needs to prove the world how he grown up, how he became the best of the best. you are just nothing but distraction and yet, you is the only thing he can think of.

after his plays, his eyes would search for you in the sea of the roaring crowds. look back and forth. turns around. pretends he's wiping his sweat but his eyes were restless. i need to see you. i want to hear you cheer for me and when he finds you waving and beaming up at him. it's like after the storm from how clear his mind was and the first rays of sun shining in his eyes. he could be blind.

he's not in love. he convinces himself. it's nothing. it would pass but it never did. it took him a long time to understand why his heart would beat faster when you're around, when he thinks of you. how his heart aches when he can see you admiring someone who isn't him. how your smile could complete his day and when you praised him, you'll be completing his month. craving for your attention when it's given free for him by the thousands and needing only yours. tell him he's the best, the one and only and this must be love.he comes in that conclusion. he's in love. definitely.

in that moment he knows, you're the right one for him amidst the crowd.

there is a invisible force about you that draws him towards you. something he never knew he would find and you have it but he never knew what was it. maybe it's the way you brighten up his days. made him feel appreciated for all the efforts he put in when nobody had. he thinks of all the possible ways what made him like you, loves you but there's no answer to it.

it was awkward when things got official. should he kiss you? would you like to hug him? hold his hand, maybe? he had no idea. sae searches in the internet. google could help him and he sees the answers so he did it. waits for your reaction when he first held your hand in his and you seem to like it. he didn't let your hand go. the first kiss? it was short and sweet. it didn't stay that like that for long though. kisses you everytime he had the chance, leaves you breathless every damn time. and hugs? sae was stiff but hugging you melts all his troubles away. where have you been all his life when you're the answer to every question he have.

the water splashed around him, dripping in the rim of the tub as he settleds down. tight muscles loosening, he finally can breathe. the steam wafts providing relaxation and sae leaned back. feel the comfort of the tub and splashes himself with the water.

he hears the bathroom door open and his breath hitched. standing in the door, you were stark naked with a bashful look in your face, hands covering the bits of your body. how long it had been since you two lived with each other and you still act like it's the first he had seen when sae albeit his stoic expression can be a little bit expressive when you're around scratch that, you bring the tiniest and the most emotions he didn't knew he have.

"stop staring." you scold him, dipping in the tub before fully submerging yourself in the warm water. thank the heavens for the big tub. when you two first moved in and started building things, arranging the furnitures, the tub is the first priority. sae agreed with you. everywhere is an intimacy, no matter where the place is. where bath times are sacred where both of you are present despite the busy schedules. the large tub bringing comfort and the spaciousness, it's fantastic. the space where both of you can fit and move freely and the extracurricular deeds occurs. it's a special place in the home you both created.

he can feel the embarrassment radiating from you even when your back facing him. sae slightly shakes his head inertly finding the demeanor you have yet to abandon cute. you weren't still comfortable with him, with your body presented to him. the water sloshing when his body moves, hands wrapping around yours and sae felt your body tensed around him. his arm in your neck while the other rests in your heavier midsection. pulling you close to press your back in his chest and he leans back to the edge of the tub.

he can feel the rapid beating of your heart. the gulps you take and the quiver of your lips. it's a second sense when sae could feel, notice the small changes in your body. this is what must feel like to be bonded to someone. to share a connection with. is this what soulmates feel but that's an old tale. there's no such things as soulmates exists in this time but sae could believe that you two are created for each other.

"relax." he murmurs, kissing your hairline, his lips nipping the shell of your ear.

"sae..." your voice a little shaky. you can't help but to bite your lip, feel his palm in the top part of your thighs, running above to your belly.

"i got you." kneading the flesh in his palm like they were made of dough. it make wonders though, you can feel yourself relaxing in his touch. your walls of doubts crumbling as sae touches you with his rough, calloused hands. your head in his chest and you look up at him. those teal eyes of his fixated in watching your flesh sink and spill in his hand. he looks at you and kisses you with care like you were such a fragile being.

fragile. the word doesn't fit you as the others with the synonyms of being small or dainty. you were built differently.

sae is the least person you think would be this so gentle to you but here he is, behind you making you feel so loved and appreciated. always made your insecurities disappear. made you feel comfortable in your own skin.

rivulets of water drip where your skins are, fingers wrinkled, sae doesn't care about that as long he's thorough in appreciating you.

sae isn't someone to notice a person let alone took interest in someone unless you're the one who's hindering his dream, in which you did.

who knows he finds you so damn attractive when he first meet you in the crowd. an acquaintance of a fellow player or teammate he didn't bother remembering the name and you're standing there and like some cliche or his tiredness from the previous match creeping up on him, time slow down for a little bit until he snaps himself. he must be crazy and his greed running rampant at that time. in his own cold approach towards someone, towards you. he got your name and phone number saved first in his phone and the rest was history.

every man has a weakness and sae have too. you. it doesn't come with too many turns. it's plain and simple. you.

one time, you were apologizing. a bit embarrassed at what will come. you're inexperienced. okay, he knows that but fuck you made him lose his mind fast. you're on top of him. a bit hesitant in putting your weight in him but damn fuck you feel so fucking good when you've sink yourself in his length. his hands holding the plushness of your waist to guide you. he lets you take control. roll your hips in a pace you can do, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts bouncing, your soft tummy squished and jiggling and sae had never seen such a beautiful sight. everything about you is what he needs for.

it wasn't that bad for a first experience with you taking control and sae loves control. it doesn't took too long before he leads you in the ways of pleasure and sae is a passionate lover but sae could be sometimes a tease in bed. it always ends up with you begging and tears gathering in your lashes. men with their egos and sae isn't different. there's a part inside him that feeds on the pleasure of you crying. the way your body squirms, the desperation in your movements.

"sae..." you call his name out and while he's making you lose your mind his sight darts in your face. sweat beading in your forehead and your teary gaze looking back at him. "let me cum, please.... sae....."

how could sae ignore that pleas of yours. obediently asking him for release. should he give you that? in some sick part of his thoughts think that but not yet. your velvety walls spasming around him and you're lowering yourself to meet his thrusts, hit that deepest part of yours that he can only give to you.

your mind in shambles, body writhing and there's only one thing you want. you want to cum but sae made it impossible. no matter how hard you chased your high, it's only sae. you were making efforts too but without sae it will never be enough. sae's perfect and he's so cruel to you. the first batch of tears came rolling in your sides and that was the cue for sae to give in to you. always the tears and your pouty face on display before entrusting your pleasures with his.

holding your round cheek in his palm and leans down to you. the chain of his necklace tickling your chest with it's cold and smooth texture. bestowing a sweet kiss to your lips and he smiles, feels you soften up to him. your legs locking around him and sae chuckles. the sound seems condescending but you know it's one for amusement. his needy girlfriend all for him and so then, sae gives you the sweetest pleasure he's been holding. he won't last too from you tightly wrapped around him. making sure you take what he gives.

when you both settled down, the sweat clinging both in your skins but never paid attention. legs tangled in the sheets with your jaw resting on his chest. his hand in your cheek, examining you like it held one of the wonders in the world. his sight on the bracelets you gave him. lucky charms you had told him and sae got confused why he need charms, when he have is talent and greed and he finally understand it when you gave it to him. a piece of me in your games and after that, sae couldn't let it go.

there is still many things that are left unanswered. sae recalls in what made him fall for you. he's sure you fell first or is it the other way around but nonetheless you plague him with the thoughts of you. why he couldn't easily shake you off when he's good at cutting people at his life. how you look so beautiful that it hurts him when you think you're not good for him at times but he's there to kiss away all your doubts.

grabbing your hand and you intertwined it with yours, giving him a bashful smile and pout before burying your face in his chest. you could be so bold at times. your softer hands in his and sae couldn't comprehend why it fits to him like a puzzle when you two are different and no matter how he spend his times asking for answers. there will never be an answer for it but why would it needs for an answer when in those simple times he have you. beside him.

going home wasn't so bad anymore. he will always find you waiting for him. be it in the bedroom or in the living room. how his silent days weren't dull anymore. he hears you laughing and singing even when your voice cracks. him finding solace in you and giving him a place to call home. showed him love even he's the least of deserving of it.

"everybody deserves love, sae."

and he deserves it. truly deserves it when you are the one to show him love and everyday sae falls in love with you. deeper and deeper.

[dameronology]

if ur looking for writing ideas… from the list u reblogged how about "It's kinda hot when you're frustrated” w/ Poe ??? no pressure tho <3

absolutely my darling i hope u enjoy

The heat of Ajan Kloss was, for the most-part, pretty unbearable.

It did have its moments, though.

Like right now, for example; the midday sun was hanging high in the sky, casting a suffocating warmth across the airstrip. It was quite possibly the worst time of day for Poe Dameron to decide to start repairing his X-Wing, but as it usually went, there wasn't a single thing in the galaxy that could stop him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted. You'd been concerned for your boyfriend's well-being at first, but then he'd started to undress and suddenly, the thought left your mind.

Okay, so it wasn't undressing undressing but hell, you weren't complaining. Poe had started the day with his famous orange jumpsuit -- it was now tied around his waist, torso now only covered by a white vest. It was stained with engine oil from an hour's work, but that wasn't where you were looking. Rather, you had your sights set on his arms, and the way they flexed underneath the jet. His hair was curlier than usual too from the humidity, pushed back off his forehead.

Now would have been a really good time for a cold shower.

"Jesus FUCKING-"

"- Poe!" you tossed aside your magazine, hopping off the wing of your own jet and crossing the runway to him. "You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep trying to lift that damn engine."

"I have to get it done today," the pilot grunted, words slightly muffled by the spanner in his mouth. "Finn said he'd help me but he fell asleep."

"So you figured you'd just try to do it yourself?"

"Time is of the essence, my love," he murmured. His brown eyes flickered back to the engine, so you put your hands on his shoulders and tried to pull him back.

"Let the boy sleep for a few hours and then ask for his help, yeah?" you forced him to face you. "You'll put your own back out otherwise. You're not as young as you used to be."

Poe thinned his eyes at you. "You're mean."

"And you're a dumbass," you winked. "You're also kinda hot when you're frustrated, but I cannot sit here and watch you hurt yourself."

"So what do you propose we do?"

"I say we go back to our quarters and sleep off this afternoon heat," you ran a hand down his arm. "And then this evening when it's cool, I'll come and help you and Finn fix this engine so it's done even quicker. How's that sound?"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Sounds like a dream."

[zuffer-weird-girl]

A villain is always a villain.

LISTEN. THERE IS SO MANY TRIGGER ON THIS THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING OR NO FLUFF I SWEAR IS PURE ROTTEN ANGST DONT READ IT.

"I'm sorry sir. But even with your quirk, your wife would suffer immense pain over the procedure and die on the bed.... and... my sincerity apologizes... but she's got only one week."

He couldn't exactly describe what he felt when those words from the doctor left his mouth and arrived to his ears. He didn't had even know when he had overhauled his gloves and the chair he was in making him fall on the ground and come back to his senses...

Everything... was falling apart. If he was only fast enough to get the symptoms appearing... he could have prevented, it would have caused you an huge amount of pain but at least you would've have survived.

Why hadn't he noticed it?

Because he was living his dream.

Because you two married. Had beautiful moments together... and just about one year and a half ago had a son. A health kid.

He was happy. He even talked about it with Pops, and the old man suggested for him to leave the Hassaikai for a while to raise his kid on a peaceful environment, but he refused. Knowing Pops hadn't had any contact with that good for nothing daughter of his neither the possible granddaughter he had. So he could give the man some of his immensely gratitude towards him.

But suddenly... everything was falling apart.

First it was the frequent coughing, even your baby was worried but soon you waved them off saying it was just a cold. Chisaki fooled himself on believing on that.

After all he was so happy.

Then, your voice started to change to a more forced and rough one. He started to worry but no, no... his perfect wife, such a angel, couldn't be on any danger... it was just a flu. He would take care of her.

Despite having germophobia, his love for you was just as strong. He wore masks and gloves, sure, but he still was willing to spend time on the same room and give you the comfort you needed.

Then it happened... one day on his office... he heard the coughing fit and suddenly a loud crying from hsi son made him storm out of his office to find you on the ground, a paper close to your hand covered in blood.

He never drove so fast on his life to the hospital.

And now... there he was, staring at the ground as he clinched on his wife's weak hand on the bed with the machines attached to her. His son, as innocent as ever was playing with his mother fingers.

The chemotherapy wasn't enough. The quirks from teh doctors couldn't help her, he couldn't help her...

The nurses came in and told that visit time was over... he had to drag his sobbing and crying two years old out of the room.

His tears were falling as well, but he had to be strong. He had to be the oen who had to be a pillar for his own child.

Pops had to be the oen explaining to Kan the situation and why his father seemed so sad and distant. The kid entered his office at night, sniffling and looking at his father's eyes with his (E/c).

Kan cried himself to sleep on his father chest, and Kai didn't mind it the snot or tears on his messed up black dress shirt. The documents on his desk were soaked with his own tears anyway.

"You're making a big deal about this." Your weak voice interrupted his memories and he scowled at your weak serene expression and smile.

"Dont. Not with this." He murmured as he watched his son give his painting to his mom... he wiped your tears away as you hugged your Kan, kissing his dark brow hair as the little boy murmured his love for you.

At the next day at the evening you let out your last breath and he cried and screamed on the bed until his voice was gone.

.

.

.

"You have to sleep boss." He heard Chrono as he blinked, the bags under his eyes were huge as he sighed.

"I can't. I need to go after those debtors of the drugs and then take care of Kan. He hadn't been eating very well since..." he couldn't help but almost choke up at remembering.

"... how about this? I go after them? Spend time with my favorite nephew."

"... you have some of my gratitude Chronostasis. Dont let the old man know about this, he would never stop talking about it. We need the money and the respect we need."

"Got it."

"And dont call my son your nephew. Is disgusting." He spoke while exiting the office as Kurono snorted.

"I am his godfather though."

He sighed as he hot upstairs and found Kan with equal sad and depressed eyes as his starting at a frame he held with his tiny fingers.

"Kan." The kid gasped and put the frame back and bowed to his father with a sniffle "... come on. I guess, both of us could use some rest."

Kan simply nodded and followed his father but was surprised to see Kai picked him up and brought him to sleep by his side.

.

.

.

He felt something stiring on his side and saw his son leaving the bed.

"Bathroom." Kan muttered as Kai nodded and got up only to stop at hearing "No da. I go, you sleep."

This kid reminded him so much of you with this goddamn kindness.

He waited a few minutes until he got up and followed the kid, enough to not make a appearance and give his son some confidence but he still had only two years.

... or maybe he just didn't felt like leaving his son alone.

But just as he entered the hall he felt something hitting the back of his head hard enough to make him fall face plant on the ground.

"Restrains his hands! His quirk can kill you with one finger of his on your skin!" He heard a voice and immeditaly recognize one of the debtors, and also someone caging his hands on a manner he couldn't even move them.

Must be some sort of dicease.

"Now, mister sucessor." A man with a missed tooth crouched down to his level and grabbed his hair to lift his head to his eye level "We could use some of negotiating eh?"

He only glared at the man before he muffled his scream of pain when the guy slammed his face on the floor hard enough to make a bruise.

"Cooperate with us and then we will get out of here. You give the drugs and leave us with our money with a bit of yours, and no one gets hurt."

"Go.. to hell-ARGH-!" Something pierced his abdomen hard enough to blood to spill and land on the floor.

This had to happened when Chrono had to get all the guards to collect cash and Pops on a damn convention, of course.

"Wrong answer yakuza. I'm gonna make it simple for ya, where is the money you all have?"

"If you think I will give you information..." he hissed at the knife piercing more "Then you must be just as dumb as your parents on the thought of making you, you sick bastard."

His head was slammed on the ground and it was enough to break his nose... just as the guy was about to slam it again a sound of a door creaking open made his eyes snap wide open and look at the figurine with equal wide eyes and clutching the door at seeing his father layed on the ground.

"K-K..Kan...." he eyed his son in fear as sweat and hives started to appear on his skin.

"Daddy?" Kan muttered in fear and the man was smilling widely at the sign.

"Oh? He is your daddy?" Kai started to throw his body around and tried to move but only could scream at his son to run but it was to late since the guy grabbed the boy by his nape. "My, those eyes you have.. are they from your mother?"

Kan trembled as Kai shouted profanities at the man as his helper held him down.

"..Hm. I heard that your wife died man.. rough. Being a single dad and the future owner of this big hellhole you got here." The man made two of his finger fuse and form into a sharp kinda like knife and cut the cheek of the boy, making the boy flinch and whimper.

"LEAVE MY SON OUT OF THIS. DONT TOUCH HIM WITH YOUR DIRTY AND INFECTED HANDS!"

"Then let's make a deal?" He holded the kid down and aproached the object to the boy's throat. "The life of the son of the woman you loved is more worth than some couple of cash eh?" He chuckled darkly.

He was about to agree until Chrono opened the door with the eight precepts and saw the scene.

"Fuck-"

"KAN GET DOWN!" Kai manage to shout at his son the house was filled with shooting and the eight precepts attacking the subbordinates of the debtor who had held his son captive.

Chrono shot the guy who was holding him down and he quickly activated his quirk to kill the man and get up only to his eyes to widen at seeing his son being dragged down by the debtor and some other muscular guy as the kid screamed for him and kicked his legs to try to get away.

He ran out and was about to slam his hand his hand on the ground without any gloves until he heard the shout to stop and his eyes widen at seeing the man holding a grenade up and his son caged on his arm.

"PAPA!"

"One more movement and your kid gets turned into pieces along with us OVERHAUL!"

He panted in desperation and raised his hand up.

"G... Give my son back." The man laughed as his sunglasses, in the middle of the night using sunglasses what a idiot, fell down.

"LOOK AT THE DESPERATION IN YOUR TONE OVERHAUL! IS PRICELESS!"

The sound of his laughter dissapeared when all four them heard sirens and sounds of heroes coming.

"Boss, I prefer to die than to go to jail." The muscular man mumbled as the debtor gave a little sick giggle before tilting his head at Chidaki, looking him dead in the eyes as he hugged Kan close to his chest and pulled the trigger of the grenade.

"See ya in hell, Overhaul."

"KAN-!" He shouted and ran but teh explosion made him his body slam back on the house, losing his conciousness and hearing only the buzz on his ears and the sound of.. Pops? Kurono? Calling his name as he blacked out.

.

.

.

He woke up with a groan and immeditaly put his hand on his face, feeling a nasty scar but then repairing it but soon widening his eyes.

"KAN!" He screamed and burst out of the room only to be found at the hospital he was starting to hyperventilate until he felt a old and familiar hand grab his shoulder.

"Kai you-"

"WHERE IS HE?!" He grabbed the man's shoulders as tears fell from hsi golden eyes "WHERE IS MY SON?!"

"Chisaki please-" the moment the elder went to speak Kai eyes dropped on a a gurney, small with a sick person dragging her to the morgue... with a tag wrapped around her wrist that looked like a child's... written his son's name on it.

"No... No. no no nO NO NO THAT IS MY SON YOU FUCKING IDIOT DONT!" he was about to kill the poor nurse until Pops grabbed onto him and made him calm down by force as the man howled like a terrible and horrendous beast.

.

.

.

"Kai... stop with this. We dont deal with drugs."

"Chisaki we have rules to follow. That's not how we work around here."

"Have you lost your humanity?"

... yes.

Yes he did lost it. The moment his wife and son were taken away from him...

He wasn't a human anymore.

He had one goal now, and he would make it real.

Even if it meant the yakusa, the heroes, Eri... everyone suffered just as much as he had.

[yunkiwii]

—i miss you even when you're here—

pairing: bf!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, established relationship

wc: ~2.7k

warnings: feeling of abandonment, loneliness, stress, insecurities

⇢ requested by @leihey ♡ i hope this lives up to your expectations!

summary: for seven days y/n has been feeling lonely as her boyfriend spends all his time either at work or thinking about work.

You turn your alarm off without even looking at it, huffing before reaching your arm to the left side of the bed, and the way it lands straight out into the wrinkled sheets with a muffled sound confirms what you expected but still hoped wouldn't happen today - waking up alone.

For the past week Seungmin would get home late to a long asleep girlfriend at their shared bed, and a plate of cold food on the kitchen table. On the other hand, you would wake to an already empty bed and a faint memory of a forehead kiss, one you wondered if it were real or just a lucid dream.

For seven days you have spent your time either at work or alone at home, carefully thinking what meal would cheer up your boyfriend the most after a long stressful day at JYPE, missing the way he would always cut the onions because he knew you were more sensitive than him to the burning feeling in your eyes and would cry easily, missing how the kitchen always felt so small for the two of you to cook together, his hands constantly on your waist as a way to tell you to "scootch over", not wanting to interrupt his singing to tell you verbally.

For seven days you have been cooking alone, cooking for someone you didn't know would show up in time or not. And whenever he did - he didn't - being his presence merely physical, greeting kisses placed on your cheeks, lips and forehead in a mechanical way, a force of habit. For seven days your kitchen felt too big, too quiet and the onions made you cry more than usual.

At the eighth day you couldn't take it anymore, and when you heard the doorknob of your front door creaking, just as you were setting the table - for two -, you had to take three deep breaths, the words you had organized and planned out started to get mixed up in your brain, creating a mess you couldn't control anymore and so, as soon as you see Seungmin entering the kitchen you can only say three words, "I love you."

"I love you too, silly." he chuckles as his lips peck yours quickly, "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about so desperatly?", he waves his phone, referring to the text you sent him earlier. He didn't look annoyed at you for making him come home earlier than it was usual lately, but he still seemed off, and the bags under his eyes screamed "exhaustion" the same way the marks your tears left on your cheeks did too.

You watch him as he eats, unable to do so too yourself, the lump in your throat growing as you hear Seungmin's muffled voice thanking you for the meal with his mouth full and a light squeeze on your thigh. And you wondered if you were being unfair, if you were being selfish, because he was allowed to be stressed about his work, he was allowed to not be at his best all the time, and it wasn't his fault he had to stay until late at night at work. But it was his fault that he couldn't leave work when he got home, that he couldn't put his phone down and ask how your day was, to just take ten minutes of his day to just be with you, and you only. And you were allowed to miss him, miss his touch, miss the way he held you tightly at the end of the day while you watched the most random tv show together, because it wasn't the show that matter but each other's company.

And, without realizing it, you had already spilled all of this to him before the kitchen dropped dead silent again, and everything went blurry. You couldn't even see his face, not until his hands cupped your cheeks and his thumbs cleaned your tears as you mumbled quietly, "I'm sorry, I- I just miss you."

"But I'm right here (y/n)...", he pulls your chair closer until your knees touch, taking your hand in his while the other lifts your chin so your eyes meet, "Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I'll get off earlier and pick you up. You'll wear that fancy outfit you've had in your wardrobe for ages, and I'll put on a nice suit and tie. What do you say?"

And in the eighth night you went to bed feeling a little warmer inside, his back turned to you didn't hurt as much now that your hand rested on his side and his shirt was worn by you. Knowing - hoping - that tomorrow will be better, you fall deep into dreamland as soon as you shut your eyes.

However, you couldn't help but to feel abandoned again when, hours later, a cold breeze hits your stomach and arms, making you mumble something in your sleep as you try to recover whatever was blocking that breeze before. One of your hands gets a grip of a soft fabric that seems too heavy to pull back down next to you, leaving your sleepy self whining for the owner of said fabric not to leave again.

"I will be back later, don't forget I'll pick you up for dinner. Go back to sleep now, (y/n)."

But how could you forget about dinner with him when, for the last eight days it was all you were longing for, and for the nineth day it was all you could think about?

Said day passed by slower than ever, an illusion caused by the clear anticipation you felt about the upcoming night. Anticipation addressed by your colleagues at work, who wondered what has sent your head into cloud 9 and your right leg into a fidgeting state, unable to stay still.

These same nervous actions continued at home, the funny feeling in your stomach resembling the very first date you had with Seungmin a few years ago, back when you were still a college student and he wasn't as busy as now. The same thoughts you had that day invading your restless mind again, "What if he doesn't like me (anymore)?", "What if he thinks I am (got) boring?", "What if my outfit doesn't fit?".

With that last thought you rush to your bedroom - but not without tripping on the first step of the staircase - to, in desperate clumsy movements, try out the said outfit you've been wanting to wear for so long, the one Seungmin got you for a "special date" months ago, one that never happened. But it did fit, it fitted better than ever and when you saw your reflection in the mirror even you fell in love with the person in front of you, the one doing little swirls with a stupid smile on her face, the person you doubted to be yourself. And, suddenly, you felt like everything would be alright, everything would go back to normal, maybe things would get even better than before, "there is no way he'll fall out of love for me when I look like this" was your first thought.

But he didn't even seem to notice your appearance, he didn't seem to notice you at all, he simply picked you up at the agreed time with a peck on your lips and one single rose in hand. All he did was drive you - in silence - to the fanciest restaurant in town, leave you alone at the table about three times to pick up the phone - "it's from work, I'm sorry" -, pay for both your meals and drive you back home.

And it took him to hear the quiet sobs you so hardly tried to keep in, while laying as far away as possible from him that you had to secure yourself from falling over the edge, to realize what he had been doing to you, to finally figure out how much he has been hurting you. And in that moment his sobs could be heard too. The realisation and guilt hit Seungmin like a truck and he couldn't move. He couldn't believe how he had let his stress and excessive work load affect you too. He couldn't believe he had reached a point to where he brought work home, one thing he had promised you he would never do. And his chest tights up a bit more when he realises you never got mad at him for breaking his promise, and breathing gets difficult when he faces you - your back.

"(Y/N)...", and your stomach drops five feet down at his cracked, low tone, and "I'm so sorry..." was all he could say before bursting into silent tears once more.

However, you were too hurt to face him, and the burn in your eyes increases when you feel the mattress sink behind you before a warm hand rests on your waist, but you don't push him away.

The nineth night was his the turning point, and Seungmin swore to your asleep self - and to himself - that the next morning would mark a new beginning.

And in the first morning you pretended to be asleep when his hand took a few strands of hair off your face, his lips barely touched your skin and his voice broke your heart, "see you later". And you held your breath until the bedroom door closed and stood still until the front door locked. But it took longer today, and in between these two moments you heard noise in the kitchen, and within a few minutes a nice smell made its way into your hiding place, as if it was trying to lure you to give in and face your boyfriend. But not even your grunting stomach stopped you from waiting to hear his car drive off to get up. And when you did, the curiosity took over you. He never cooks in the morning, and he never leaves this late. Something was changing after all.

Hence, in the first night, you shifted your body to face him when he quietly climbed in bed next to you, your left cheek pressed against your hands as a weak smile greeted the tired boy, "I appreciated the breakfast." Nevertheless, you didn't reach out to pinch his cheek the way you used to, though you had the urge to do so when his own lips drew a smile and his eyes got lost in his cheeks.

In the second morning you didn't pretend to be asleep and you didn't wait for the car to leave. In the second morning you sat at the kitchen table with Seungmin and, because he knew it would take you time to go back to him, he didn't force a conversation, he didn't force skinship, he merely held your hand and squeezed it lightly. And you knew he was trying, you knew he would try and wait until you were ready to trust him again, to give him your heart again.

Day by day you would slowly give him little pieces of you, by sharing the most small and insignificant stories of your day, by letting him hold your hand at night, by sharing earpods with him on the couch when you couldn't fall asleep, by letting him try and do all the things he shouldn't have stopped doing in the first place.

But it took you seven days and seven pieces to trust him with your heart again. Therefore, on the seventh day, as the the sunbeams peaked through the poorly closed shutters and reflected on Seungmin's bare shoulders, you couldn't help yourself from admiring him and, for the first time in seven days, you felt warm inside. The butterflies you used to feel the first times you woke up next to him were back, and were more annoying than ever.

You let yourself study all his features attentively, scanning all his perfect imperfections, letting yourself fall for him all over again - not that you think you ever fell out of love, but rather disconnected from it, and him.

He flinched and mumbled confused words, and you couldn't help but to smile and giggle softly at how silly your sleepy, drooling nonense-speaking boyfriend looked. This time, you gave in to the urge of pinching his cheek tenderly as to not wake him up, and you left your hand resting there as your thumb rubbed his soft skin.

As you were feeling your eyes becoming heavy again, your thumb stopped the movement and your hand slid down a bit. Your body relaxing more and more, until a ticklish feeling pulled you back to the "here and now", just to find Seungmin kissing the palm of your hand with his eyes still closed before pulling you closer to him, making you wince and giggle when his warm breath hit your ear and his raspy voice gave you his "good morning's".

He moved his body sloppily, hitting you with his elbow before comfortably positioning half of his body on top of yours, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he held you tightly by your waist, as if he were afraid you would run away.

"I missed you Seungmin, I missed you even when you were here." Your fingers got lost in his messy hair as you spoke, his grip on you grew tighter and you felt the tears peaking in the corner of your eyes. "You hurt me... and I thought about leaving you before you left me first."

For the first time you were letting him know how you truly felt, for the first time you were opening yourself up to him without any ounce of shame or fear. And this was your turning point. This was the moment you both knew you were back, ready to mend all the wrongs and the scattered pieces of your hearts that were left all around the house. "But everyone makes mistakes. And I know you have been trying, and-", Seungmin shifts his body once more, supporting himself with his hands as he is now hovering over you with his eyes locked in yours, a restless look in his face worried about what you would say next, and suddenly you feel shy, "What I mean to say is, I forgive you. I choose to stay and love you even if my mind won't let me believe that you love me back, I will trust you and your actions. So please don't let my mind trick me again, don't give it reasons to doubt your love for me unless you don't feel it anymore."

You pull his hair back waiting for a reaction, leaving your hand to rest behind his neck ready to pull him in for a kiss, the first real kiss in sixteen days. But you wait for what it feels to be an eternity, until he breaks the silence and mends the last piece of your heart when he reassures his love for you and vows to reassure you every single day until the rest of your lives.

And when you finally pull him in he loses balance and falls on top of you, his forehead hits your nose and just like that the house is filled up with laughter again, the onions don't make you cry anymore, the kitchen shrank and the fancy dates became late night movie marathons with you snuggled on Seungmin, or Seungmin snuggled on you, until you were far too tired to walk upstairs, leading to countless nights spent on the tiny couch and countless mornings with complaints about aching bodies but happy souls.

nets: @k-library @ficscafe @k-dinernet @districtninewriters

taglist: @dreamwrld @su-lix @bobateastay @leihey @serialee @hyunsluvv

⇢ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ♡

[padawanlost]

Something I've noticed recently over the past few months is this trend where people have been diagnosing Anakin with narcissistic personality disorder instead of C-PTSD or BPD, the more commonly seen diagnoses. I personally disagree, but I wanted to hear your "two sense" on the matter if you will, you're one of the best meta-writers on this site.

It’s because people don’t like Anakin as presented on screen. They want Anakin to be as selfish and arrogant as possible so they can blame him from everything that happened. If it’s ALL about Anakin than everyone else can be left off the hook. 

Anakin ‘I don’t want to be a problem’ Skywalker is clearly narcissistic. I mean, he fits all the signs:

Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration

“Ten years in this place, and still he was an object of interest. Of speculation. All their hopes and dreams hanging on him like decorations on a bantha skeleton at Boonta Eve. He hated it.” [Clone Wars: Wild space, Karen Miller]

Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance

“You would forgo your destiny for Padmé?” Anakin’s brows beetled in anger. “I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” [ James Luceno. Labyrinth of Evil]

Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it

Anakin bumped his hand against [Obi-wan]. “Wait. Just—wait.” Embarrassed, he took a deep breath. “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just—it’s the mission, right? That’s what matters. So—”  “Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s whisper sounded amused. “It’s fine. I was about to suggest it myself when the droids turned up.”  “You were?”  “Play to your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. That’s how a battle is won. That’s how we’ll win the war.”  Anakin had to smile. I should’ve known he wouldn’t take it personally. “Yeah. So—once I’m up and over and nobody raises the alarm, give me a five-count then follow. I’ll give you the best Force boost I can. Not that you’ll need much. Your leap was only a meter and a half behind Master Windu’s. Remember?”  Obi-Wan gave a breathy chuckle. “I remember I had nosebleeds for a week afterward. Don’t ever feel bad for being extraordinary, Anakin. Now off you go. We don’t have all night.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Take advantage of others to get what they want

“He thought of how unflinchingly loyal Anakin was to anyone he considered a friend.” [Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Exaggerate achievements and talents

He was the Chosen One, they told him. He was supposed to bring balance to the Force. Anakin thought that some little extra support might go with being the Chosen One, a helping hand or at least some understanding from the Jedi Council, but instead he was passed around like an unwelcome burden, ending up with Qui-Gon Jinn and then Kenobi because nobody else would have him. His chosen status meant less than nothing; it felt more like a stigma. And they wondered why he was difficult at times. Maybe they didn’t want balance, whatever that was. Maybe nobody liked a Jedi who was that different. He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”? Karen Traviss’s The Clone Wars

Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate

Impatience. Concern. Relief. Loneliness. Weariness. And grief, not yet healed. Such a muddle of emotions. Such a weight on [Anakin]’s shoulders. Months of brutal battle had left [Ahsoka] drained and nearly numb, but it was worse for Anakin. He was a Jedi general with countless lives entrusted to his care, and every life damaged or lost he counted as a personal failure. For other people he found forgiveness; for himself there was none. For himself there was only anger at not meeting his own exacting standards. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people

It’s not just Skywalker’s rank that makes us give him one hundred percent. It’s because he treats us with respect, and he puts himself on the line with us.” [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior

Having worked their way around the village, finding nothing to wake their uneasily sleeping sense of alarm, Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to the beaten-dirt square and the charter house. Its doors were open now and a woman who had to be Teeba Brandeh stood on the broad step, hands on her narrow hips, watching the children scatter across the square to play a proper game of kickball. Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own. Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.” Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”  May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—” Anakin’s amusement vanished.  “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw.  ”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

Expect special favors and unquestioning compliance with their expectations

[Anakin] did not like the fact that he had won. It seemed wrong that he had stepped so far out of line, and yet had been retained as a Padawan. He did not like the unease this victory, if victory it was, produced in him. Above all weaknesses, arrogance was the most costly. They keep me here because I have potential they’ve never seen before. They keep me in training because they’re curious to see what I can do. I feel like a rich man who never knows whether his friends are true-or whether they just want his money. This was a particularly galling thought, and certainly neither true nor fair. Why do they put up with me, then? Why do I keep testing them? [Greg Bear’s Rogue Planet]

Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.” [Anakin] caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. Then, abruptly, she felt mortified. What was she doing? Weeping like a child all over a man young enough to be her son? Where was her pride? She shifted away from him, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth 

Be envious of others and believe others envy them

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

[Anakin] had worried that Obi-Wan did not have room for him in his heart. But Shmi’s smile rose in Anakin’s mind. Hearts have infinite room, my son. JUDE WATSON’S THE TRAIL OF THE JEDI

Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious

The fear and dread in her face eased, just a little. “You’re a very sweet young man, Anakin Skywalker.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

[Anakin] humbles me, sometimes. He makes me feel small. He can’t see a broken thing without wanting to fix it. [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office

“I’m not giving him to you,” [Anakin]’d told her. “He’s not even really mine to give; when I built him, I was a slave, and everything I did belonged to Watto. Cliegg Lars bought him along with my mother; Owen gave him back to me, but I’m a Jedi. I have renounced possessions. I guess that means he’s free now. What I’m really doing is asking you to look after him for me.”  “Look after him?”  “Yes. Maybe even give him a job. He’s a little fussy,” he’d admitted, “and maybe I shouldn’t have given him quite so much self-consciousness—he’s a worrier—but he’s very smart, and he might be a real help to a big-time diplomat … like, say, a Senator from Naboo?”Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith 

[p-antomime]

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.