#a bit of an ad there at the end but from my research the rest of it is accurate
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HI!!! After finishing Disco Elysium I wanted to read Sacred and Terrible Air, but there were two issues:
1. It’s not officially released in English
2. I don’t like staring at pdfs!
So I did what any sane person would do. That is take three days of my life printing and binding it.
TRANSLATION (“thank you Group Ibex” we all say in unison!):
PROCESS PICS:
I apologize in advance for anyone who has experience in this sort of thing this is so botched.
I have NEVER done anything like this before, I don’t even read books on my own volition, but if the Disco fixation wants me to learn how to sew and bookbind I’ll do that.
Four of the signatures above. There were nine total, eight of them with 8 sheets/32 pages and the last was five sheets I think. Threw the pdf into adobe acrobat and went straight to printing with those settings and the “booklet” option enabled.
Pricked holes through each signature! Used thumbtacks and a piece of foam I scavenged from my room, worked out great. It’s probably also worth mentioning I do not have a bone folder, book press, or any of the other fancy schmancy bookbinding tools. Flattened the pages with a pencil and pressed with D&D books…
SEWING TIME. I have never sewn in my life. My success in this regard can be majorly attributed to Sea Lemon on youtube, particularly this tutorial:
youtube
The process from printing to finishing sewing the signatures took ~8 hours. Now we hit our first roadblock, I had no glue for the spine! After going to sleep and waiting what felt like ages (literally 10 hours or so) before I was free to visit a craft store, I tried to find PVA glue because that’s what you’re supposed to use I think?? Yeah. They were out of PVA glue and my impatient ass got mod podge.
‘Tis glued! As you can see I added cardstock to the ends. Joyous day.
Also, you see that sketchbook in the pic? Yeah? You see that lovely cardboard?
It is now the cover. Rest in piss bristol sketchpad backing.
———
EDIT: I see a bunch of people want to attempt this so here’s a video on how to make the hardcover: https://youtu.be/Av_rU-yOPd4?si=7T5zgVJGAfPFBxn-
youtube
I didn’t use any measurements or advice from it but it’s a good reference for when it comes to assembling the cover from ~3:50 onwards. The boards are same size as your text block pages and spine, I think I made the cover width a bit longer just in case it doesn’t cover the text block though. Do not do this with the spine, I regret it.
And note, this is NOT a tutorial, it is the process of someone who got a bit too silly and decided to bind a book, obviously do your own research lol. Don’t be afraid to try it though, it’s surprisingly simple!
———
… So, now that’s done! I swore to myself I wouldn’t start reading SATA/PJÕL until I finished this project completely, meaning I’ll be doing that now yippee :]
#sacred and terrible air#püha ja õudne lõhn#disco elysium#pjõl#i’m normal#proud of this despite it being pretty scuffed#uhh yeah#the spine is a bit too wide but who cares at this point HAHA#my art#i guess?? my creation??
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A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:
Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.
Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.
That's just a drawing.
But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.
And now for the visual research:
I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.
Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.
Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.
On to color!
I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.
For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.
I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!
Let's see the final result!
Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.
And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.
Later!
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S3: The Bad Batch (1)
Chapter One: Confined
Gif by @ventresses
Hunter x femaleJedi!reader
Series Rating: 18+
Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.
Chapter Summary: Imprisoned on Tantiss, Omega finds herself needing to adjust to life there whilst the rest of you decide on your next mission to give you intel you desperately need.
Masterlist for S1 and S2
Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)
Chapter Warnings: Very mild canon-typical violence, one use of y/n, Hemlock, brief wound description, nightmares with emotional hurt/comfort, my interpretation of various people's headspaces, slight angst, me going off script/episode plot in the last part, and remember, italics represent silent Jedi communications
Word Count: 5K
Author's notes: And we're off! Happy Star Wars Day!! We are pretty much just following the plot of this episode, save for a bit at the end so it might feel like a bit of a slow start, but bear with me! Technically, this will also wind up being a 'fix-it' fic so just stick with me on that process too! Hope you enjoy! And I have already started working on the next chapter! Also, I am just going off my past taglist so anyone who wants added/removed, please let me know!
21 days since Eriadu
Water dripped from the faulty tap in the small cell as light crept through the bars on the window.
Omega stared out into the open space with a forlorn sigh as she envied the birds that sounded their freedom as they chirped their usual song. She stepped down from her bed and started pacing anxiously as she waited for Emerie to make her scheduled appearance.
Sure enough, a couple seconds later, the door opened, and Emerie stepped inside.
“Good morning, Omega. How are you feeling today?” Emerie asked.
“Like a prisoner.” Omega replied curtly. “I want to leave.”
“Prisoner?” Emerie repeated, surprised. “Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there. Come. We have much to do.” With that Emerie turned to leave.
Omega reached under her bed and brought out her box before she followed Emerie out into the corridor. The grey colouring of her new clothes matched the other scientists and the non-descript design of the inside of the base.
They turned a corner to pass a squad of clone prisoners being escorted past and Omega let out a gasp as she recognised the figure at the front of the line but despite her effort to look at him, he only stared at the floor.
--
Omega entered the lab and watched in quiet upset as the clone was subjected to a blood sample being taken from the back of his hand. They all had similar expressions of pain and defeat written across their faces and she wished she knew how to stop it.
Emerie placed the test tube into one of the free slots in the tray that Omega was holding before she took the datapad out and created a record for Omega. “And now I need to take a blood sample from you.”
“From me?” Omega repeated. “Why?”
“The samples are used for various research projects. All of us serve a purpose here.” Emerie explained. “It won’t hurt.” She added as a means of reassurance before she readied the equipment to take the sample.
Omega sat up on the bench. “Can you at least tell me where my brothers are? Or my friend, (Y/N)?”
“I do not know.” Emerie replied simply.
Omega held her hand out and braced against the sting of the needle as her blood was drawn. “If you’re a clone like me, how come I never saw you on Kamino?”
“Because I was sent elsewhere until Dr. Hemlock took me under his wing. He saw potential in me, like Nala Se sees in you.”
“I never knew that I had a sister. It’s nice not being alone.” She offered Emerie a small smile, but it wasn’t quite returned.
“Head to the lab.” Emerie ordered as she took the device away and placed Omega’s sample in with the others. “Nala Se is expecting these.”
--
As the security scan was completed, Omega entered the lab and walked over to Nala Se who was busy placing more blood vials into a centrifuge.
“Thank you, Omega.” Nala Se said as she took the tray from her and started processing the data from the samples and it was through that that she saw the concerning sight that Omega was now a part of the system. “Omega, your sample was taken?”
“Mn-hmm. Emerie said it was routine.”
Nala Se deleted the record from the system before she destroyed the physical sample.
Omega watched this with curiosity. “Why are you discarding it?”
“Tell no one.” Nala Se replied before she took the other samples to the centrifuge. “It is safer this way.”
Omega knew the Kaminoian well enough to pick up on the worry in her voice. “This research, it’s not like what we did on Kamino, is it?”
“No, it is not.”
“I don’t understand. Why did they bring me here?” Omeag asked, hoping that if Emerie couldn’t give her the answers that she sought then Nala Se would have some idea.
“To ensure that I co-operate. The Empire seeks the reproduction of a genetic M-count, but the experiments on the specimens have yet to yield the desired result.”
The M-count was something she was aware of but nothing else Nala Se was saying made much sense to her. “What specimens? You mean the clones?”
“No. Not the clones.”
Any further elaboration was cut off as the lab doors opened and Omega turned to see who it was.
“How nice to see you reunited with your trusted assistant.” Hemlock commented to Nala Se. He massaged the palm of his gloved hand. “I’m sure Omega’s presence here will only strengthen your efforts. Shall we head to the vault?” He waved a hand in front of him towards the doors.
Omega went to leave but Nala Se’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from advancing.
“See to your remaining tasks.” Nala Se instructed before they left the lab.
Omega watched them from the window and wondered what was so special about this vault Hemlock had mentioned but she didn’t have the means to find that out yet. For now, she had little choice but to head to her next chore of the day.
--
She glared at the droid as he shocked one of the Lurca hounds and she irritably scooped some food up before sending it through the hatch into the bowl of the hound she was currently tending to. As the droid’s attention was focused on something else, she took the opportunity to gather more loose straw from the ground and hid it in the bottom compartment of her box.
She carried on to the last cage to see her favourite of the hounds. “Hi Batcher.” She whispered to the hound curled up at the far end of the cage but her only reply was a low growl. It was then she noticed the bowl was overflowing with uneaten food. “Hmm. Still won’t eat the food, huh? I don’t blame you.” She stole a quick glance back to the droid to see he was still paying her no attention and she took the chance to fish out her lunch from earlier. “Here, I saved you some of mine.”
Batcher got to her feet but snarled and pressed herself aggressively against the bars of the enclosure.
In the shock, Omega had dropped the nuggets inside the cage, but she watched as Batcher ate them and swiftly retreated to the back of the space. “Better? I’ll bring you more tomorrow.” She stood up and left to do what she had been wanting to do the entire day.
--
As she slowly walked down the corridor, she glanced between each of the cells, the sounds of teeth chattering and coughing made her concern grow as she saw the effects this place was having on all of the clones here.
She made her way to the cell she’d been searching for. “Crosshair.” She called quietly. “I tried to come earlier, but there were too many guards watching me.”
Crosshair sighed. “You shouldn’t be down here at all.”
“Well, how else are we gonna plan an escape?”
“There is no ‘we.’ And there is no escape.” Crosshair sat up. “I’ve already tried.”
“Every stronghold has a weak point.” Omega said. “Maybe I can convince Emerie to help. She’s one of us.”
She sounded just like them and that was the last thing he needed. “Not every clone is your ally. You trust too easily.”
“Maybe you don’t trust enough.” Omega countered but as she said that she noticed a tremor in his right hand which he tried to conceal with by holding it with his left. “Crosshair?”
“Just…” He sighed again. He didn’t need her pity or her concern. “Go, before you make things worse for both of us.”
Omega went to leave but she stopped herself. “There has to be a way out of here. I’ll find it.” She didn’t expect a reply, so she didn’t wait for one, instead she left now.
Crosshair watched her go. Even from that small interaction, he’d already seen so much of them in her and that would either make her or break her in this place and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be around to watch.
--
Darkness had fallen and it was that time again where she scratched the next tally into the wall. She brought the Lula hay doll out and held it close to her chest- it wasn’t much but it was the reminder of home she needed. If you truly weren’t here, then Omega knew you all would be looking for her, but she was going to do whatever it took to make that easier.
--
5 months later
The dripping water, the sunlight creeping in, the birds chirping, the concealing of her doll at the bottom of her box… the routine was all so familiar now. She was already standing at the ready for when Emerie opened the door and, like clockwork, it whirred open to reveal the older clone who had the same opening remark she always did.
“Good morning, Omega.”
“Good morning.”
“Let’s begin.” Emerie led the way out.
--
Yet again, they walked the same route to the testing centre and yet again she passed Crosshair in the corridor, but she had long since learned that trying for any sort of recognition from him in this environment was pointless, so she kept her gaze down too.
She let her blood be drawn, her hand was now numb to the sensation, and she took all the samples to the lab where Nala Se once again destroyed all traces of her sample. She hadn’t been able to learn anything more about the vault or the specimens but what she had gathered was that you, Hunter, and Wrecker definitely were not here and that made the thought of escape feel far more feasible and appealing.
--
The lurca hounds were the same as they always were but as she made her way to Batcher’s spot, she saw the hound tending to a nasty cut on her front right leg. “Batcher? K-9X1! Hurry!” She yelled to the droid.
“What is the issue?” The droid asked as he approached the girl.
“Batcher’s hurt.” Omega informed him.
“LH-201 sustained injures during the nightly patrol. If her wounds do not heal, the subject will be terminated.”
“Then do something to help her!” Omega demanded.
“I am not a medical droid. It is not part of my programming.”
Omega could only watch as the droid merely walked away, and she turned to the sound of Batcher’s whimpers of pain. She wouldn’t accept termination as Batcher’s fate, if the droid wouldn’t help Batcher, then she would.
She ran over to the medical kit on the wall and took the bacta out but when she reached into the kennel to try and tend to the wound, Batcher snapped at her. “Now look. I need to clean your wound for it to get better. It’ll only hurt for a second, so put those teeth away and behave.” She said sternly but it seemed to do the trick as Batcher let her do it. “See? That’s not so bad.”
Omega worked in silence for a few seconds before she spoke to the hound again, “You know, I have a friend that would’ve been able to help us get along a lot faster.” She said warmly as she continued to apply the bacta to the wound. “But I think we’re getting there now.” She smiled as Batcher gave her hand a tentative lick once she finished with the bacta.
--
“I dressed Batcher’s wounds as best as I could. At least she didn’t bite me. That’s progress, right?” she looked at Crosshair, but he gave her nothing, so she continued talking. “If she doesn’t get better soon…” She sighed. “Maybe I can steal a med kit from the lab and see if there’s anything I can use-”
“Stop.” Crosshair interrupted her with a frustrated sigh. Clearly the others hadn’t done a very good job of making her stay on course and now he needed to be the one to remind her. “What is your primary objective?”
“Escape.” Omega answered.
“Then stop wasting time on lost causes. Forget the hound, forget me, and complete the mission.”
“Not without you.”
“If I get the chance to escape, I wouldn’t think twice about leaving you behind.”
“You’re lying! You wouldn’t do that. You’re my brother.”
She had been insisting on that for months now, no matter how many times he tried to push her away and he didn’t know how much more of that he could tolerate hearing. “I’m not them.” Crosshair snapped.
Omega couldn’t accept that. “I’m not giving up, Crosshair. I won’t let you either.” She got up to leave.
Crosshair stood up with a heavy breath and called out to her retreating figure. “Omega.”
Omega stopped and turned back to face him.
“Don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” He said, meaning every word.
“None of us belong in here.” She replied before walking away.
--
Her door whirred open before the usual time, and she woke up with a gasp as two troopers entered her room. She got to her feet and concealed her doll behind her. “What’s going on?” She asked Emerie.
“Surprise inspection. Standard procedure.” Emerie informed her.
“Clear.” One of the commandos said.
However, the other noticed the doll hidden behind her back and he tore it from her grip and handed it to Emerie.
“We’ve been over this before, Omega. Personal items are forbidden.” Emerie chastised her. “I’ll dispose of it.”
“Don’t!” Omega protested. “Please, Emerie.”
“It is for your own good. Come, we have work to do.”
--
It was a welcome sight to see Batcher so happy to greet her this time around. “Hey, Batcher.” Omega said fondly and she saw the wound had nearly scarred over. “Look at you. You’re almost at a hundred percent.” She gave her a soft scratch on the jaw.
“Did you not read the standing order for the day?” The droid yanked her to her feet. “LH-201 has been slated for termination.”
“What? Why? She’s healed.” Omega argued.
“The creature’s recent domesticated disposition has been deemed a liability.”
“But that’s my fault, not hers.” Omega tried to resist being pulled away, with Batcher also barking in protest, but the droid’s grip was strong.
The droid groaned. “It is protocol.”
Omega finally managed to weasel her way out of his grasp and steal his datapad but the droid reacted swiftly and started to pull it away from her. She allowed herself to be tugged airborne and she braced her feet against the droid’s torso and leaned back, the momentum giving her the victory. She got away from the droid with the datapad in her hands and she quickly activated one of the large crates on the ceiling above and it fell on top of K-9X1. She grabbed his electro-staff and shocked him with it but not before he had the chance to call security so now, she had to act swiftly.
Omega used the datapad to open the exit hatch in Batcher’s kennel and deactivated her collar. “Batcher, come!” She ran over to the bars and reached in to take the collar off the hound. “Now you need to run away and not come back, okay?” It pained her to let her one close companion go but it needed to happen. She patted her snout. “And try not to bite anyone.”
Batcher hesitated and whined at her.
“I can’t go with you yet.” Omega explained. “I have to get Crosshair first. Batcher, go!” Omega watched her run down the tunnel with both relief and sadness, but she’d get out soon too, she knew she would.
“Breaking the rules, I see.”
Omega jumped and turned around to see Hemlock standing before her and Emerie standing behind him.
“And releasing a weak lurca hound into the wild? I didn’t know you were so cruel, Omega.”
“Me? You were gonna terminate her.” Omega said angrily.
“And you believe your actions changed that outcome?” When Omega faltered in her reply, he kept speaking, “Now some rotations ago, one of our shuttles crashed just beyond this mountain. But that is not what killed them. No, it was the creatures that roam the jungle. Even our strongest lurca hounds struggle against what’s beyond these walls. And your domestication of LH-201 only made her vulnerable.”
“You don’t know she won’t survive.” Omega disputed. “She deserves a chance.”
“Oh, the flawed logic of an idealistic child.” Hemlock’s tone fuelled with quiet mockery. “Emotion and sentiment have no place within these walls. You would do well to remember that.”
She wasn’t afraid of his threats anymore. “Or what?”
Seeing the way he turned to look at Omega again, Emerie hastily intervened. “Doctor, perhaps I should return Omega to her room.”
Hemlock held a hand up to stop her from going any further and kept his gaze on Omega. “You have more to say?”
“I know you brought me here to make Nala Se cooperate. You need her. She won’t work for you if you hurt me.” Omega said confidently.
Hemlock only laughed. “Of course I’m not gonna hurt you, Omega.” He inhaled deeply. “Your friend in the detention block, however, may not be as fortunate.”
“Don’t hurt Crosshair! He didn’t do anything.”
“I did have plans for CT-9904, despite his resistance to re-education, but I am willing to make a few sacrifices if your misbehaviour continues.” He bent from the waist and leaned down towards her. “Actions always have consequences. Sometimes not in the ways we imagine.”
Now that threat was one that she knew he would follow through on and she didn’t want to be responsible for Crosshair suffering even more than he was already.
“Take her back to her room and restrict her access.” Hemlock ordered Emerie as he exited.
Omega left with her a few seconds later.
--
Night had fallen and Omega sat huddled on the edge of her bed, but she heard the door open. “Go away.” She said with a sigh, not even bothering to look at Emerie this time.
“Omega…”
“Please… just go.” She requested, hoping the misery in her voice would be enough to convince Emerie to leave and she was grateful to hear her footsteps retreat and she angled herself towards the door to see that her hay Lula had been returned to her. She picked it up, but the sound of a lurca howling brought her back to the window.
She attempted in vain to peer through to bars to the outside for any sign of Batcher, but she couldn’t see anything. She then looked at the growing collection of tallies that represented the months that she’d been here. It may take more time, but now more than ever she knew she needed to get out and she needed to take Crosshair with her.
--
Hunter’s eyes snapped open, and his heart was pounding in his chest, but his surroundings told him it had been another dream. The ship was still steadily travelling through hyperspace towards Oba Diah, and the three of you had been using the long journey to catch up on some much-needed rest before the mission would begin.
Reaching out to Roland Durand of all people had felt like a long shot but when he said he could help if you only found the Pyke that had disgraced him and the Durand name, it had been an easy decision to accept but it had done nothing to quell the worry and fear that coursed through his veins. He sat up and began the usual routine of deep breathing.
Ever since you’d fully opened yourself up to him and the Force again, he didn’t need to wake you anymore when this happened, you would feel everything he felt and wake up a couple seconds after he did, and this time was no different. “Which one this time?” You whispered; your tone filled with tender understanding.
“I’m sorry.” Hunter rasped as he steadied his breathing. He hated that this was having a knock-on effect on you two, especially since your own sleep had only now started to get better. You were another person he was still finding a way to let down.
You shushed him softly as you sat up next to him. You have nothing to be sorry for. “Which one?” You prompted again. You knew his sleep had been haunted by more than just the reminders of what had happened in the recent months, it was these new nightmares that were plaguing him more and more.
Hunter released a heavy breath. “Same one as the nights before. I can see her, she’s right in front of me but no matter what I do, I can’t reach her and- and then she’s taken away.”
You pressed your lips to his shoulder, and you rubbed soothing circles on his back. “This mission for Durand is another step in the right direction. You’re doing all you can. We will find her, Hunter.”
Hunter shook his head and swung his legs out to the side of the bunk. “We took too long to find you, and you weren’t even really hiding.” Hunter countered without glancing back at you.
He didn’t need to look at you for you to feel his distress. You reached a hand out to his shoulder to try and get him to face you again. “Hunter-”
He gently but firmly pushed your hand away. “I’m going to go over what we’ve got again. Go back to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”
You sighed and watched him go to the cockpit. You’d seen the shift in him as had Wrecker. The relief of your reunion had long since passed and he, like the two of you, was getting more desperate to find Omega but it was affecting him far more than he was willing to talk about. His once calm and collected demeanour had vanished and he was taking on missions with little care for the risk or conditions they came with and this mission for Durand was no exception. Whilst you and Wrecker were happy to agree, there had been little discussion over the matter or the conditions of the deal. The two of you had done what you could, but you knew the only true thing that would bring him comfort would be finding Omega again.
Although a strong part of you wanted to follow him, you knew that right now, he needed the space, and you would give him that, but you couldn’t stand by and watch him drive himself into the ground for much longer.
--
You woke up again to find the space next to you ice cold and you knew that Hunter had not returned at all, and he wasn’t planning too. You tossed the blanket aside and silently walked towards the cockpit where you could hear the faint tapping of fingers against the keys of a datapad.
You leaned against the entryway to the cockpit and studied him for a moment as he kept his focus on Tech’s datapad. He looked utterly exhausted. His head drooped every few seconds, his shoulders were hunched, and weariness was written all across his face. It pained you to see him like this.
Aware that his brother was sleeping a few metres away, his words to you were quiet, “I said I’d be back soon.” He continued to tap through the intel that he’d been anxiously scanning for any detail he could’ve missed.
“You said that hours ago.” You matched his volume and straightened up. “You need to talk to me. Shutting down like this isn’t good for you.”
“I’m not shutting down. I’m doing what needs to be done to get Omega back.” He couldn’t stop. He’d let her down for long enough. The answer was there, and he kept missing it and he couldn’t stand it.
You fully came into the cockpit and kneeled in front of him. “You may be a leader, Hunter, but you’re not alone. This isn’t just the fear that we’re not going to get her back because you know we’re not going to stop until we do. There’s something else you’re afraid of.” You searched his face for a sign of what more it could be, but he wasn’t giving anything away. You kept your voice low but kind, “What is it?”
Hunter ignored you and kept his eyes fixed on the words on the screen in his possession, but he wasn’t reading them anymore.
“Hunter, put it down.” You attempted to take the datapad but his hold was too tight.
“I can’t stop. I can’t. She-” He cut himself off and swallowed thickly. “I can’t stop.” He repeated again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re no good to anyone if you’re too exhausted to think straight.” You said with concern. “Talk to me, please.”
Hunter silently shook his head. The responsibility of all of this was on him, you shouldn’t be worrying about him now.
You knew how hard this was and he rarely allowed himself those moments of vulnerability, but he’d been there for you countless times, it was now your turn to be the one he could lean on. “You’ve helped me through so much, Hunter.” You placed one hand on his tattooed cheek and stroked your thumb along his cheekbone and whether he meant it or not, you felt him relax into your touch. “Let me help you now.” You whispered as your other hand fanned across the datapad and started to push it out of his grasp. “Put it down.”
“I-”
“Put it down.” You repeated again, applying more pressure now as you felt his resistance fade and relief coursed through you as he let you take it from him.
Hunter finally let the datapad slip from his grasp and he let the tiredness take over and his body sagged against the chair.
“What else is it that’s bothering you?” You came back from putting the datapad away and crouched again and laid your hands on his knees.
Hunter hesitated for a moment but for this first time since he woke up, he caught your eyes and he saw nothing but love and concern behind them and he swallowed thickly. “All she wanted was to not end up an experiment and that’s exactly what I’ve let happen.”
“Hunter…”
The words just tumbled from him now. “I let down Crosshair, I let down T- I let down Tech. I was too late to save them, but I still had you, I still had Wrecker and I still had Omega. Then you and Omega were ripped away from us and that was another thing I couldn’t stop. I relied too much on Wrecker when we were looking for you, I wasn’t who he needed me to be, and I can feel that happening again. I can’t be too late again. I can’t let another person down… I can’t let Omega down.” He turned away from you once more.
Your heart broke for him. “You have done no such thing.” You brought your hand back to his face to keep his eyes on you. “Listen to me, you didn’t let them down and you weren’t too late for them. At that time, Crosshair had made his choice, and you wouldn’t have been able to change his mind. Tech, he-” You felt the emotions rise up in your throat, choking the next words you were going to say. After pausing for a second, you cleared your throat and started again, “Tech made his choice. That wasn’t you being too late for them. As for Wrecker, he won’t and doesn’t think that. You’re his brother first, Hunter, he would never think that.” You paused for a moment to let that sink in before you added, “And you weren’t too late for me either. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened as he listened to the words you said but he couldn’t quite bring himself to fully believe them.
Still seeing the reluctance behind his eyes, you took his hand and placed it over your heart. “Feel that? I’m not worried, I’m not doubting you. We’re getting her back, you have not failed her, Hunter and she’ll know we’re looking for her. She’ll know that.”
Hunter closed his eyes and let the comfort of your steady heartbeat flood his senses.
After some time had passed, you decided it was time for him to get some proper rest before you arrived on Oba Dia. “Come on.” You took his hands, and a gentle tug encouraged him enough to get to his feet.
Hunter was so tired he could barely register his movements; all he knew was somehow you were getting his feet moving and leading him back to your bunk.
“Lie down.” You instructed gently as you reached the bed.
Hunter did as you said, and he felt you slide in next to him, he willed his weary body to turn and hold you like he usually did.
You shook your head and nudged him, so his back was facing you. You wrapped your arm around him and put your hand in his and placed it over his chest. “Just close your eyes and breathe with me.”
“This mission’s gonna help us somehow, right?” Hunter murmured with a tired voice.
You planted a soft kiss to the hinge of his jaw. Yes, it will. Drug syndicates were not high on your list on the people you were looking to stay on an even keel for. The Pykes weren’t going to stop you from doing whatever it took to get to her.
Next Chapter>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @starwarsnerd111, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya
#the bad batch#the bad batch season 3#the bad batch s3#hunter x reader#hunter x femalejedi!reader#hunter x fem!reader#hunter x female!reader#sergeant hunter x reader#sergeant hunter#hunter tbb#hunter the bad batch#the bad batch hunter x you#hunter x y/n#tbb hunter x reader#the bad batch fanfiction#star wars#angst#hurt/comfort#friends to lovers
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More of these mfs. More Perfect Plan/Perfect World au stuff.
Plot - So basically,Ford willingly gave out the equation to Bill by word of mouth while the triangle abided by his word regarding him promising that Stan and the twins remain unharmed if he got what he wanted. Ford then added that he agreed on joining Bill and his Henchmaniacs in wreaking havoc on the world with Global Weirdmaggedon,which overjoyed the isosceles as his genius finally agrees with him for once throughout their aggressive push and pull dynamic despite him not knowing the real reason why Ford joined him (he plans on getting closer to Bill and gaining his favor as he used the triangle's favoritism of him to be spared from the various atrocities that his former muse is going to commit while he tries to come up with a way to kill Bill with a sneak attack without him knowing). Stan and the twins got to escape the town with their lives intact while bringing everyone else with them as Dipper and Stan don't trust Ford anymore ever since he decided to choose Bill over them,not knowing the truth about his decision,they left along with the rest of the zodiac wheel members as they knew that Bill would shatter the town without a single inch of concern. Ford then spends five months as Bill's plus one in the end of the world,watching the triangle escape the town with the lack of a barrier keeping him inside as he conquered every country in the world as every world leader began to worship him and change their nations to be in his image in order to appease the isosceles.
Bill razed said nations daily while putting them back together just to rinse and repeat the next day,he also erased all consequences via his newfound time abilities after destroying Time Baby. Six months later,Bill has totally taken control of the entire world as he not only got the world's leaders to agree with his demands but he also literally has eyes everywhere while having clones of himself manage every corner of the world so that he knows EXACTLY what's going on. The triangle has started a worldwide tyranny and Ford just has to sit back and watch lest his plan of destroying Bill in secret gets ruined.
Bill and the Henchmaniacs enjoy their newfound iron grip on Dimension 46'/ as they finally get to have a home that isn't actively rotting or empty meanwhile Bill is just glad to have a giant human playground all to himself. Although being on top and having everything you want can get a bit boring,so Bill decides to "liberate" Dimension 46'/ like he planned as he burnt it to the ground similarly to what he did with Euclydia. Ford didn't like that. He was fucking traumatized as he watched the isosceles destroy his entire dimension,thus making him lose his family his friends and his home,he watched from the Nightmare Realm using a crystal ball that Bill gave him so he could see the whole thing. Ford basically had a mental breakdown as he attempted to kill Bill for causing him such a devastating loss,fruitlessly blasting his laser gun at the near godly triangle whom he knew could destroy him in an instant with his ability to control space matter and time itself but he didn't care as he needed to get rid of the pest that ruined his life.
Bill instantly regretted his decision to raze the man's dimension,as he thought that Ford would be fine with it since he went along with everything else and this made him realize that his genius won't join him in ruling the universe anymore after he destroyed the guy's dimension (plus he doesn't want Ford to be unhappy) like he planned (as his plan was basically "Conquer the world,destroy the world,and then rule the multiverse with Fordsy by my side"). So Bill stopped time before Ford could kill him and then he ended up fixing his horrible mistake by creating a whole dream world for his genius with Fidds Stan the twins and everyone still alive but as non sentient copies that agree with the researcher's every word.
"You fucking MONSTER. HOW DARE YOU DESTROY EVERYTHING I EVER HAD?!. WHEN I STAYED BY YOUR SIDE AND AGREED TO ALL OF YOUR DEMANDS THROUGHOUT THESE FEW MONTHS?!. I WILL DESTROY YOU UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF YOUR DAMNED GEOMETRIC BODY!." Ford exclaims as he then tries to lunge at the triangle,with sheer anger and hatred in his eyes as Bill then telekinetically stops him from tackling him. "I thought that you chose me over your dumb family,Fordsy. Turns out i was wrong. I kept them alive for as long as i could,but they had to go along with EVERYTHING ELSE." Bill remarks as he laughs maniacally,appearing to not regret his horrible mistake as he watched the man growl at him with pure rage in his expression.
"Once you release me,i will tear you limb from limb. Molecule from molecule. I will build a machine that'll give you the most EXCRUCIATING PAIN POSSIBLE. And i will NEVER choose you,i never did. I only did because i was planning on destroying you from the start,i should've killed you earlier before playing along with your game though before you could do THIS to me." Ford replied as he glared at the triangle while explaining the truth about his plan regarding why he joined his so called muse despite being hesitant at first. Bill then realizes that Ford will never consciously choose him,unless he did something about that. He then came up with an idea,to fix everything both for him and his genius.
"*sigh*. No one will ever choose me. Unless i make them." Bill says as he then telekinetically pulls Ford closer to him and then he touches the man's forehead,making the man flinch and squirm but he then stops struggling once Bill gets ahold of his memories which he starts to nitpick until he replaced all of them with more positive less traumatizing ones while erasing his memory of their prior argument a few seconds ago. Ford becomes more peaceful and less pissy as he then asks his husband about what they're doing in an empty void (what Dimension 46'/ became after Bill destroyed everything),becoming a bit disoriented from the mind fuckery. Bill then tells him to wait in the Nightmare Realm as he nudges him toward a portal that leads to the decaying dimension while he creates a surprise for his genius.
This is the beginning of Bill's Perfect World for Ford. Then a week later,Bill and Ford enjoy their new lives in Ford's new condo/company building that consists of his new anomaly research facility called the Oregon Institute of Oddology as Bill continues on destroying and conquering worlds while he enjoys his spot as the multiverse's eternal ruler which he acquired in only a short time due to his current power level with him being able to control space matter and time. This brings us to now,to Ford's perfect life with his isosceles partner.
#gravity falls#bill cipher#stanford pines#ford pines#billford#gravity falls au#billford au#bill x ford#ford x bill#bill ci the demon guy#bill cipher gravity falls#bill ci the all seeing eye#bill ci the triangle guy#au spoilers#lobotomy husbands#gravity falls fanfiction#gravity falls writing#my au#gravity falls ford#great uncle ford#grunkle ford
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headcanon of reader dating any of the Weasley kids and that Weasley brings them home for Christmas so Molly ends up making a Christmas sweater
Any of the Weasleys? Oh boy... so this means we're defaulting to my favorite Weasley then lol
You met Charlie your first day in Romania. You're professor brought you with them specifically for the project they were overseeing, and Charlie was one of the few others who had been hand picked to assist as well.
(You would come to find out latter he'd volunteered first thing, and more or less demanded to be put on the team)
You were hatching and hand rearing dragons with the specific purpose to try and domesticate them enough to be studied with out researchers being eaten and/or incinerated.
It took over a year and many a sleepless night bottle feeding hatchlings together, but eventually the two of you did come around and realize the pining was mutual.
Which lead you to here, another year later, and getting ready to floo in with him to visit his family for Christmas.
Frankly, you think you'd rather try to collect a horntail egg again...
Charlie was trying to be reassuring and to convince you that everything was going to be ok... except he seemed to have forgotten that in the late nights you'd spent heating eggs and feeding babies that he'd told you all about the many horrors of bringing new people into the family.
The 'Fleur fiasco' as he had dubbed it had stuck out to you in particular, how his mom and sister had go out of their way to try and chase off the girl his older brother would eventually go on to marry.
Honestly, you felt like you were going to be sick, and the added soot from the fireplace transport was not helping matters.
Thankfully, all the worry seemed to be for nothing... Molly Weasley was very warm and welcoming if not a bit busy so all she had time for was a quick hug and a hello before ushing the two of you out of the kitchen.
Surprisingly, it was Fred and George who descended on you the fastest, asking all kinds of questions and laughing good naturedly when Charlie quickly snatched a pastry they tried to pass you away and shooed them off with a glare.
You did take a moment to remind him he'd more than warned you about eating anything either on of the twins handed you.
In infamous Fleur herself had even joined you with a blanket and mugs of hot chololate as the two of you watched most of the rest of the family playing quidditch in the large field beside the house.
By the end of the night, you and Charlie were getting ready to floo back, and you were wrapped in your very own Weasley sweater, box of Molly's backed goods tucked into your arms and an invitation to come back for New Years if the two of you could.
"See," Charlie smirked at you as you stepped back out of the fire place in the main lodge of the research post, "I told you it would be fine, didn't I?"
#harry potter#charlie weasley#charlie weasley x reader#charlie weasley headcanon#charlie weasley imagine#reader insert#requests
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Spider!Mark origins: Mark Lee x Reader part 2
cw: slight angst??? a bit of violence.. corny dialogue!! mark is such a cute little dork .. virgin! mark LOLLLLLL, loss of virginity, soft sex, praise, spider webs🤗
wc: 7.4k
ISSUE #1: MARK’S ORGINS 🕷️
ISSUE #2: THE MAKING OF A HERO 🕷️
For the next few weeks, y/n and Mark spent an increasing amount of time together. Every day after school, they would head straight to y/n's house, which had basically become Mark’s superhero 101 training grounds.
The routine was established quickly: they'd drop their bags at the door and head straight to the backyard, where y/n already had a training area set up. Because y/n had been trained in combat from the minute she exited the womb, she made a pretty damn good teacher. She would make Mark spar for hours, not stopping until he couldn’t move a muscle.
Mark, despite coming a long way from when they first started, still found himself on the losing end every time, but each loss only made him want to work harder and harder. He had to prove to y/n he was worthy enough.
Outside of the tedious training. y/n helped Mark research about the spider, scouring through scientific journals, news articles, and even sub-reddit conspiracy forums to gather every scrap of information they could possibly find.
At each training session, y/n made sure to mark down and careful observe Mark’s abilities. She noted every nuance, every change, every new detail. From there she was able to, to weigh his strengths and weaknesses, applying it to training making sure he can get out of every possible scenario.
Despite the intensity of their training, there were moments of rest. They would take breaks to snack on y/n's homemade cookies or binge stupid tiktok’s they found on each others fyps. In those moments, they could feel each other becoming more and more comfortable with one another.
•
•
As the week came to an end, y/n had happily invited Mark to join her and Haechan for a movie night. Mark, brimming with excitement, swiftly made his way out of his room, only to be intercepted by his aunt just before stepping out the door.
"Where exactly are you running off to again? You've been going out a lot lately," his aunt lightly scolded, a knowing glint in her eye.
Mark scratched his neck nervously, struggling to come up with a proper response. "Uh, I'm going to a friend's house... I mean, I've been going to a friend's house," he stumbled over his words.
His aunt eyed him curiously, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Uh huh, and does this friend have a name?" she inquired looking him up and down.
"Y/n—her name is y/n. We go to school together," Mark replied quickly, hoping to evade further interrogation from his nosy auntie.
"A GIRL! Oh my god, my little Minhyung is growing up!" his aunt exclaimed, her excitement evident as she squeezed his cheeks affectionately. "Wait, why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend, Minhyung?" she added, playfully scolding him and insisting that he invite y/n over for dinner.
Mark sighed, patiently explaining to his aunt that y/n was just a friend who happened to be a girl, and that they weren't dating. His aunt chuckled knowingly, giving him a knowing look before shooing him out the door.
"Oh, and Honey, one more thing," his aunt called after him as he turned to leave.
Mark paused, turning back to face her. "Use protection!" she shouted, earning a groan from Mark as he dashed off, his aunt's laughter echoing behind him as she closed the door.
•
•
Texting back and forth, Mark impatiently waits outside, his fingers tapping anxiously on his phone screen as he texts y/n.
mark 🕷️: yo I'm right outside & it's cold,so please open the door.
y/n 🎧 : yo who is this????
mark 🕷️: ihy sm.
Finally, the door swings open, revealing y/n standing there with a warm smile. Mark, bundled up in a hoodie and baggy pants against the cold, returns her smile as he steps inside quickly trying to escape the cold air.
"Sup, Mark," Haechan greets, rising from the couch to dap Mark up before they settle on to the couch together. Y/n smiles at them both before heading to the kitchen to whip up some popcorn for their movie night. She pops the buttery goodness in her mouth as she rejoins them on the couch, sandwiching herself between Haechan and Mark.
As the movie begins to play, the trio immediately focus on the screen, their laughter and mid-movie talking filling the room. They transition from loud conversations to moments of silence, absorbed in the film's emotional rollercoaster. At one point, tears threaten to spill from Haechan and Mark’s eyes as y/n giggles at their dramatics.
Before the movie could even end, both Haechan and Mark leaned against each other softly snoring dead asleep. Chuckling softly at the sight, y/n reaches for her phone, thinking this is the perfect time for a funny candid picture to embarrass the boys with later. However, before she can even open the camera app, Mark stirs awake, disrupting her mischief with a sleepy smile.
"Uhh, y/n, what are you doing?" Mark questions, slightly startling the girl.
"Uhhh, shit, oh, nothing, I was just making sure you didn’t choke on my brother's drool the way you guys were sleeping," y/n retorts quickly, causing Mark to laugh embarrassedly and wipe his mouth just in case.
She laughs at his reaction before poking Mark on his cheek.
"Hey, Mark, I have a surprise for you," y/n says, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Mark perks up at this, his curiosity piqued, as y/n grabs his arm and leads him to her backyard.
She urges him to close his eyes as she opens the back door, taking his hand and guiding him outside. When he uncovers his eyes, Mark finds a big paper bag covered in spider stickers and cute little spiderwebs. "TA-DA," y/n announces proudly as she signals for Mark to uncover his eyes.
Mark chuckles at the sight of the decorated paper bag. "Oh, dope, you got me a decorated paper bag. I've always wanted this," he jokes, but y/n urges him to open the bag.
Mark grabs the bag, raising an eyebrow at its weight. He carefully removes the tissue paper and discovers a red and blue skin-tight suit with a dark black spider emblem on it. He notices that the suit even has a hoodie attached, reminding him of the day he saved y/n in the alley while wearing a hoodie himself.
He then pulls out a matching mask and notices a rectangular box in the bag. Curious, he opens it and finds a cool technological device that looks like it should go on his wrists. "It’s for your webs. It’ll help you aim them better and make them stronger," y/n explains, smiling at her friend's reaction.
Before y/n can say another word, Mark embraces her tightly, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you so much, y/n. Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. When did you even have the time to do this? It's just... wow?!"
Y/n laughs with him, enjoying his excitement. "You wanna try it on and test these bad boys out?" she suggests, raising an eyebrow daringly.
"HELL YEAH," Mark responds enthusiastically, scrambling to the bathroom to try on his new gifts.
•
•
Mark can’t help but admire himself in the mirror. He also couldn’t help but laugh, at the fact that his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. This was easily the best gift he’s ever gotten. The fabric hugged his frame perfectly, and he can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through him. He genuinely felt like a real deal superhero.
"OKAY, princess, quit checking yourself out in the bathroom and come out. We've got some brainstorming to do," y/n calls out, knocking on the door.
Mark fumbles with the door, a bit embarrassed at the fact that he had been staring at himself for so long. "Sorry, you were taking forever. I was almost gonna break the do--" y/n starts before her gaze trails over Mark's figure. "Whew, that fits nicely in all the right places... Turn around real quick, Mark."
Mark hesitantly complies, turning around as instructed. "Yeah, your butt looks great. Any villain would be intimidated by that," y/n jokes, causing Mark to giggle slightly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"So let’s get down to business... You have the skills, you have the suit, and all you need now is a superhero name," y/n declares, beaming at Mark.
"Now, I've compiled a list of super awesome amazing brilliant names I've come up with, or I've found in articles from your recent crime-fighting, and by articles I mean tweets. Now let’s pick one out," y/n continues, excitedly.
"Spider-boy," y/n suggests.
"I'm a grown-ass man. Why would I go by that?" Mark responds.
"Okay... What about Arachne Man?" y/n proposes.
"Hell no," Mark replies.
"Uhhh, Super Spider 3000?"
"What's with the 3,000, y/n?" Mark questions.
"I don't know, I thought it sounded kinda cool." y/n shrugs.
“The Weaver?”
"That makes me sound like an old lady in a knitting club," Mark protests, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
"Okay... How about Your Amazing Friendly Neighbor Spider-Man?" y/n suggests, sounding a bit exasperated.
Mark considers the name for a moment, running it over in his mind. "You know what, y/n, that's not half bad... Just a bit long, I will say."
"Jesus Christ, you motherfucking idiots, why not just Spider-Man?" Haechan interjects, finally chiming in from his spot on the couch.
"That's probably the smartest thing you've ever uttered," y/n teases her brother before turning back to Mark. "So, what do you think?"
"Spider-Man... I like it," Mark responds with a grin as y/n yelps out a big YES!
•
•
"Testing 123... 321... Amazing Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, can you hear me over?" y/n's voice crackles over the intercom built into Mark's hood.
"I heard you after the testing... Also, aren't we shortening the name?" Mark questions as he gracefully swings from building to building.
"Sorry, it's just so catchy! Just testing to make sure you can hear me all good over the intercom," y/n responds from her laptop in her room.
"Well, I can," Mark confirms.
"Okay, good. I'm gonna power up the camera feed on your suit so I can navigate you the right way," y/n explains.
"THERE'S A CAMERA ON HERE?!" Mark exclaims, amazed.
"Yup! There's one built into the spider on your suit, and then there are a couple on your mask, so whatever you see, I can see," y/n confirms.
"Jesus Christ, this is giving me motion sickness. Do you ever get sick swinging from those damn webs?" y/n asks, hearing mark chuckle in her intercom.
"No, I'll have to take you for a ride one day," Mark responds, almost confidently, before adding with a stammered, "if you want."
"I'll have to take you up for that one day, Spider-Boy... For now, let's focus on getting you out of this mission alive," y/n finishes.
"ALIVE?! I COULD DIE?!" Mark's voice rises in panic.
"Mhmm, there's like a 50% chance... But you'll be okay. NOW MARK, A SHARP LEFT!" y/n directs, a bit muffled.
"Are you eating chips right now?!" Mark questions, swinging to the left.
"Uhh—nooo," y/n denies, crunching on another chip before changing the subject.
"Okay, so here's the rundown: BABY'S FIRST DRUG BUST," y/n announces.
"You say this like you've done one before," Mark retorts, but y/n goes silent for a moment before giggling.
"ANYWAYS, back to the subject at hand. In exactly 10 minutes, you're gonna arrive in Hell's Kitchen," y/n explains.
"That sounds like fun," Mark says sarcastically before y/n shushes him.
"There's some big meeting happening in one of the buildings I'm navigating you to. Supposedly, it's some kind of drug trafficking scheme run by Wilson Fisk. I'm sure you know who that is, right...?" y/n prompts.
"Kingpin?" Mark responds.
"Yes, him! The meeting is gonna be all sorts of big drug lord mafia guy wannabes. Your job is to interfere with the truck shipments. I don't know exactly how yet, but you have to stop it from going anywhere," y/n instructs.
"Okay, got it... Hell's Kitchen, beat some bad guys, and stop drugs. Okay, makes enough sense," Mark acknowledges.
"AHT! This is supposed to be a stealth mission, Mark. Whatever you do, DO NOT interfere with the meeting. They don't need to know you're there. Just stop the truckloads. The only people you should be interfering with are the drivers," y/n emphasizes.
"Got it," Mark says hesitantly, listening.
“Okay, Mark, swing right, and there should be a big building leading down that alley," y/n directs.
Mark gives a sound of acknowledgment before landing on top of a large building. He carefully surveys the area, making sure he can't see anyone.
"Okay, Mark, this may be a bit risky, but see if you can get in through a vent and record audio of everything going down," y/n suggests.
"Okay," Mark whispers, finding a vent that he barely fits inside.
"Okay, so what you're gonna do is carefully press the spider that's on your chest," y/n instructs.
Mark follows her guidance, watching as a tiny spider emerges from the big spider print on his chest, crawling down the vent.
“What the hell?!” Mark exclaims in awe.
“Oh yes, that’s a mini spider camera mic thingy me and Haechan worked really hard to develop for you,” y/n says casually. “It should be able to record everything going on. When the meeting is over, press the spider on your chest again, and it’ll come back. For now, just sit tight until it’s over.”
Mark hums in agreement, half wondering about what’s going on in the meeting and half wondering about what other surprises lay in his suit.
Y/n pulls Mark out of his thoughts, her voice coming in sternly. “Okay, I’m loading everything recording onto my computer. Look to see if they’re moving yet.” Mark gives a quick yes and looks through the shielded vents, observing a bunch of suited men carefully. “I think they’re wrapping it up,” Mark says.
“Gotcha, I’m gonna give you some instructions on how to leave. You should end up on top of the building facing the loading truck,” y/n directs.
Mark begins to move before he sharply pauses when he hears the room below him suddenly go silent. An alarm sounds, and the men below start talking about a "rat."
“Uhhh, y/n... I think they might have heard me,” Mark reports.
“Aht, okay... Keep following the exit instructions. I’m gonna get you out of here. Return back here immediately,” y/n says sternly as she types some commands on the computer. “But the mission?” Mark protests before y/n cuts him off, insisting once again to come back immediately.
Mark safely exits the vent, standing on the building, watching the few trucks he sees as he observes some men loading them up. He takes a deep breath before muttering a sorry and diving down there.
“Mark, you fucking idiot,” y/n says, screaming over the intercom before it goes silent on both sides.
•
•
•
Y/n screams, shutting her laptop with a snap, and jumps off her bed. She quickly paces to Haechan’s room, whisking the door open.
“Woah, woah, I could’ve been naked or, better yet, jacking off. What happened to knocking?” Haechan yells.
“Shut up and grab your car keys. Something went wrong with the plan, and now Mark is going to get himself killed. We need to do something about it,” y/n says quickly as Haechan groans, heading to the garage to get his car out. Y/n rushes to the garage, typing a code into a safe before taking a briefcase out and hopping into Haechan’s sleek black sports car.
"Told you he wasn’t ready, and now you’re gonna get your only friend killed," Haechan says, whistling. "Shut the fuck up and drive," y/n says, clearly annoyed.
•
•
•
"Sup, guys! Did I crash the drug dealing party, or is there still room for one more?" Mark says, trying not to show how nervous he was to the group of crooks.
"Who the hell are you, tough guy?" some guy says, sizing Mark up before spitting on the ground next to him.
Mark slowly backs up before accidentally tripping over his own foot. "Fuck," he exclaims, falling down as he sees the men crowd around him, getting ready to attack. Mark quickly shoots a web, hitting one guy in the face before swiftly jumping up and punching someone to his left.
"Hey, guys, it’s not nice to jump people! Ten versus one, now that’s unfair," Mark says, swiftly spraying his webs, sticking two bad guys together as they hit the ground with a thump. Before Mark could take a break, he hears gunshots and quickly jumps up, sticking to a wall to avoid it before carefully shooting out his webs, taking the gun from one of the bad guys.
"COME ONNN! What happened to hand-to-hand combat? You guys are killing me here," Mark says, jumping down in front of another. He winds his fist back, getting ready to punch the guy in the face before he gets a tingling sensation and turns around to see a giant man towering over him.
"Hey, Big Guy, let’s take it easy now," Mark says as the man gruffly laughs at him.
"I knew there was some annoying insect ruining my plans," the man says in a deep voice, closing in on the boy.
"Ah, well, actually, spiders aren’t insects," Mark says matter-of-factly, getting ready to shoot his webs before he’s thrown roughly into a wall, groaning in pain at the impact. “I’ve heard about you," the man says, briskly leaning over him.
Mark coughs; he swears he can taste metal in his mouth before he’s cut off again, getting punched. "Some low little sorry excuse of a hero, stopping petty crime, tcht," Kingpin says, his voice laced with venom.
"Well, now is where you get crushed, spider-boy," Kingpin says, raising his fist again before Mark quickly musters his strength to get up, dodging the attack and landing a swift, hard punch in his opponent's face.
Fisk barely flies back but chuckles, wiping where Mark had hit him. "Not bad," he exclaims, getting ready to retaliate.
•
•
•
"TURN HERE!" y/n's urgent command pierced the air as Haechan slammed the brakes, the tires screeching in protest. "If I don’t come back in 15 minutes tops, I want you to know that one time I let Jaemin take your car to a party, and that's why the paint looks slightly different on one side. He made me promise not to tell you," y/n confessed in a rush, while Haechan muttered something along the lines of hoping she wouldn't return.
Swiftly, y/n snatched the case, darting into an alley to change into the sleek, black attire inside the case . A mask obscured everything but her eyes as she armed herself with two lengthy black electrical escrima sticks. Emerging from the alley with a determined stride, she set out to locate Mark.
Breathless, y/n stealthily approached Mark's location. Her heart caught in her throat as she witnessed most of Kingpin's henchmen strewn unconscious, only to find Mark, weakened and bleeding, slumped against the wall as Kingpin pummeled him relentlessly.
"Fucking dumbass" y/n muttered, taking a deep breath before springing into action with catlike agility. "Hope there's room for one more," she exclaimed, aiming to divert Kingpin's attention from his assault on Mark.
Kingpin's laughter echoed as he turned his attention to the smaller figure before him. "This is who came to save you, Spider-boy? Oh dear, you're both as good as dead," he taunted.
Launching himself at y/n, Kingpin found himself thwarted by her flawless agility. She retaliated swiftly, delivering a jolt of electricity with her weapon, causing Kingpin to recoil in agony. Annoyed, he lunged again, only to be met with another swift dodge, as y/n striked him somewhere solidifying the fact he probably wont be having any kids anytime soon. He crumbles in pain as y/n eyes quickly meets Mark’s body.
Rushing to Mark's side, y/n hoisted him up, supporting his weight as they fled, knowing Kingpin would soon recover. They dashed from the alley, Mark's pained groans echoing through the street. Pressing an intercom in her ear, y/n reached out to Haechan for assistance.
“Earth to Haechan, are you there?" she pleaded desperately.
"Dammit, you're alive," Haechan's voice crackled through the earpiece.
"Not the time for jokes; Mark is badly hurt. We need to get him back home ASAP. Can you track my location? He's weighing me down, and at this rate, I don't think we'll make it back in one piece," y/n stammers in a rush.
"I got you. I'll be there in 5 minutes tops," Haechan assured, the engine revving to life.
While supporting Mark, y/n raced as fast as she could, her senses on high alert to evade any pursuers. "Dammit, Mark," she muttered, observing his agonized state.
“Hurry, get in!" Haechan's urgent voice echoed as a group of men closed in on them. Swiftly, y/n ushered Mark into the back seat, taking her place beside Haechan, urging him to step on it.
Haechan navigated the streets with precision, maneuvering crazily to shake off their pursuers. Finally, they arrived home, the garage offering a brief break from the chaos outside.
Together they carried Mark to the living room, laying him gently on the floor, both sighing at his injuries.
“Go get the first aid kit," y/n commanded, her voice slightly hoarse, as she swiftly began to strip away Mark's bloodied clothing to assess his injuries. Haechan darts off, returning moments later with the first aid kit clutched tightly in his grasp.
Y/n sighs as she tended to Mark's wounds. His eyelids fluttered, struggling to remain open as waves of drowsiness washed over him.
"He's gonna have a giant headache when he wakes up," Haechan remarked, a note of concern lacing his words. Y/n shot him a wry look, her eyes brimming with exhaustion and tears as she finished up his bandages. "Just take him to one of the guest rooms so he can rest," she instructed, her tone firm yet full of concern for her friend.
Haechan nods in understanding, carefully lifting Mark's limp form into his arms. With a gentle touch, he cradled his friend, carrying him away to a guest room where he could recuperate in peace. As they disappeared from view, y/n exhaled a weary sigh, her mind racing with thoughts of the night's events, her hands cover her face as she can only think of what could have happened to Mark.
•
•
•
When Mark finally awoke, he was greeted by a pounding headache, his consciousness slowly emerging from the depths of hell. Groaning softly, he blinked, attempting to figure out where he was. The memories of the brutal encounter with Kingpin's henchmen flooded back, each blow replaying in his mind and it was like he could feel the pain all over again.
Struggling to push past the throbbing pain, Mark sat up abruptly, his gaze scanning the room in confusion. His eyes fell upon a note perched on the bedside table, it urging him to meet y/n into the backyard. He takes a deep breath, rising from the bed, as his legs unsteady beneath him make his way to the backyard.
As he stepped into the familiar place, he spotted y/n seated on a weathered bench, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. She turned her head, sensing his presence, and offered a gentle smile as he carefully approached, slightly limping in pain.
“Hey," he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleeping as he joined her on the bench. Before he could utter another word, y/n's hand collided with his cheek in a resounding slap, leaving a bright red mark on his left side. Mark winced, his gaze dropping as he slightly whines.
"I deserved that," he admitted, his tone apologetic.
y/n's expression softened, though traces of anger flickered in her eyes. "You're an idiot, you know that," she half-yelled , her voice carrying a mixture of frustration and concern. "If I say come back, you come back immediately. You could've died out there."
Mark's shoulders sagged, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I know... I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to prove that I could do it, that all of your training was paying off," he admitted, a sense of disappointment filled the air. y/n looks at the boy softly before shaking her head attempting to break the tension
“It is paying off. From what was left of Kingpin's men, you did pretty great, Spider-Man," she reassured, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Mark nodded, appreciative as his eyes met her gaze. They both sit in silence, a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the night sky, signaling the onset of rain. Y/n tilted her head back, gazing as the sky, a smile gracing her lips as droplets danced upon her skin.
Mark watched her, captivated by the ethereal beauty of the made y/n’s h/c hair stick to her forehead which somehow, framed her features beautifully in the cool rain. Mark leans in closer, his heart pounding in his chest. As he breaks the comfortable silence.
"Your eyes are pretty," he murmured softly, his breath mingling with hers in the cool night air.
“and your eye is very swollen.”
y/n's playful retort was met with a soft smile, her fingers brushing against his swollen eye and then equally swollen lip with a tender touch.
"Promise me you won't do something dumb like this again?" y/n demands, her voice slightly shaking.
Mark shook his head gently, a tender smile playing on his lips as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the girl's plush lips. "I can't promise I won't do anything dumb," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I promise I'll always bounce right back."
With that he embraced her in his warm arms as, they watched the gentle patter of raindrops.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It had been nearly a week since y/n last saw Mark. His absence from school and the silence of his phone left her restless, her mind couldn’t help but overthink everything that had gone down last week.
"What if my breath stank, and that's why he's avoiding me?" she exclaimed, as she vented to her brother, who was engrossed in a video game, only half-listening to her concerns.
"It probably did, like it does right now," Haechan quipped, a smirk playing on his lips as y/n rose to switch off his playstation , her irritation reaching its peak. "Why did you do that? I was about to level up!" Haechan protested, his pleas falling on deaf ears as y/n stood her ground.
"Because you were being mean," she retorted, hands firmly planted on her hips, her frustration bubbling over. "Why don't you have any friends to annoy with this mess?" Haechan grumbled, shooting his sister a disgruntled glare.
"Because people are meaner," y/n sighed, sinking onto the couch beside her brother. "What if he's dead or got kidnapped, and I'm just overreacting?" she mused aloud.
"Well, at least if he's dead, I don't have to hear you talk about this again," Haechan retorts, earning himself a punch from his sister before she stormed off to her room, frustration etched into every line of her face. Seated before her makeup desk, y/n resolved that if Mark was still alive, she'd knock some sense into him.
Adjusting her dress and pulling out an annoying wedgie, y/n stood before the doorway of a quaint, beautiful house, her heart pounding in her chest as she rang the doorbell.
The door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman whose warm smile instantly eased y/n's nerves. "Hello, dear," the woman greeted, her eyes twinkling with kindness as she greeted the girl.
She smiles again before saying, "give me a sec." With a wink, as she vanished behind the door. From behind the closed door, y/n could hear the muffled voices very clearly, giggling at what was being said.
"Benji, you would not believe it! Mark has brought a girl home, and she's beautiful at that," the woman exclaimed.
When the door finally opened, the older lady reappeared, this time accompanied by a man whose almost warmer smile put her even more at ease. "And who might you be, young lady?" he asks, friendly as ever.
Returning the smile, the girl nodded before speaking, her voice cheerful than usual and very respectful. "Hi! I'm y/n. I've heard so many nice things about you, Mr. and Mrs. Park," she said, extending her hand for a handshake. To her surprise, Mrs. Park enveloped her in a warm hug, squeezing the girl tightly.
"You have to excuse Jennie; she's a hugger, and Mark doesn't have many friends over, let alone girls, so it's a big deal," the older man chuckled, breaking the moment with laughter before ushering her inside.
As she settled into a seat, Mrs. Park's went on and on not knowing in advance about y/n's visit, promising to bake a cake for her next time. y/n simply thanked her profusely, a genuine smile not leaving her face.
"Just sit tight, dear. Mark will be home soon. You know how he is, always ripping and running," Mrs. Park reassured her. As y/n nods in agreement.
y/n's anticipation peaked as she heard the door creak open, and Mark's aunt rushed to greet him. "Minhyung! You have a visitor here. Next time, give me a heads up before your girlfriend comes; I would've baked a cake," she scolded, her playful reprimand filling the room.
Caught off guard, Mark's eyes widened as they met y/n's, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. "Oh, Minhyung, hi!" y/n greeted him with an overly cheery tone, her demeanor sending a shiver down his spine for reasons he couldn't explain.
As Aunt Park suggested they retreat to Mark's room, he led y/n upstairs, his mind racing with questions. "How did you find my house?" he finally blurted out, his surprise evident.
"Why are you avoiding me, Minhyung?" y/n countered, her eyebrow arching as she studied him intently. Mark's gaze darted away, avoiding her intense eyes as he struggled to find an answer.
"I've been busy," he replied, his words sounding hollow even to his own ears as he stared at a poster behind her.
y/n sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Busy? Doing what? You haven't been at school, you haven't texted me back since our fight, since we kissed—never mind," she trailed off, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Sensing her frustration, Mark joined her on the bed, his eyes fixed on the floor before meeting hers. "I just—" he began, only to be cut off by y/n's exasperated interruption.
You just what!," she snapped, her annoyance cutting through the air like a knife.
"I just... I don't want to disappoint you like I did last time. So I've been training hard and staying up all hours of the night so I can prove to you that I can take this whole superhero thing seriously, for real," he confessed feeling the most vulnerable he’s ever felt with anyone.
As y/n softened her gaze, she observes him more closely, noticing a few bruises peeking out from beneath his clothes, concealed with makeup to avoid his aunt's prying eyes.
y/n sighed, her hand reaching out to grasp his. "I'm not disappointed in you at all, Mark. I really do believe in you," she reassured him, her touch gentle as she moved to caress his face, locking eyes with him. He bit his lip, his gaze lingering on her before he leaned in, craving the softness of her lips against his. As their kiss deepened, he tasted the faint sweetness of her strawberry lip gloss, savoring it all despite the stickiness it left behind. In that moment, he felt like he could kiss her forever, losing himself in the warmth of her lips.
Breaking apart, they both gasped for breath, their eyes locked in an intense gaze, pupils dilated. Mark opened his mouth to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know, you were my first kiss," he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "To be honest, y/n, you're my first real friend too," he admitted
"You're so funny, snarky, and beautiful, and I don't want to disappoint you or mess anything up," he continued, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
"For the first time since my parents died and i had to live with my aunt and uncle , since l've moved from place to place, for once, I feel like I belong, and I have someone who cares about me, and that's you," he confessed, his voice cracking with emotion. y/n reached out to comfort him, gently stroking his head as he let his tears fall.
They sat together in a comfortable silence, finding comfort in each other's embrace until Auntie Park's voice shattered the sentimental moment. "Y/N, Mark, dinner is ready!" she called out, barging into the room with a cheerful smile, only to pause as she caught sight of them holding each other.
"Auntie," Mark groaned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he urged her for privacy. With a playful giggle, Auntie Park retreated, reminding them to be safe before disappearing, leaving Y/n and Mark to exchange amused glances.
With a shared chuckle, they eventually straightened themselves up, and made their way to downstairs for dinner.
•
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•
"Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Park," y/n said, enveloping the older lady in a warm hug as she and Mark stood outside the doorway.
"Anytime, my dear. You're welcome anytime," Mrs. Park replied, her gaze shifting to her nephew. "Minhyung, make sure she gets home safe," she instructed, her concern evident in her tone. Mark nodded , offering a quick "Yes, ma'am" before hugging his aunt.
As they walked side by side to y/n’s house, they go back and forth catching each other up on their week. When they finally reached her door, y/n punched in the security code, only to find her brother not there.
"Hey, Mark, do you wanna maybe watch a movie? Haechan isn't here, so..." y/n trailed off, a mischievous glint in her eye as she heads towards her bedroom. Mark's smile widened at the invitation, and he followed her inside without hesitation.
The night started out innocently enough for y/n and Mark as they lounged on y/n’s bed. It was nothing out of the ordinary; they had done this dozens of times at this point, after every hangout or training session. But this time, it felt different.
As the movie played on, y/n couldn't help but sneak sidelong glances at her friend. She didn’t even know what they were; they had kissed twice but never taken it further than that. Lost in thought, she couldn’t help but gaze at Mark, eyeing his chiseled features and toned physique in his white tank top and unbuttoned polo. For some reason, it made her heart flutter, and her thoughts started drifting to things she knew would never happen.
But GOD she wanted Mark badly. She wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck the nerd out of him. Now, this wasn't the first time she had such thoughts.
A few fantasies had slipped into her mind here and there, especially after a sweaty training session or even after he kissed her that first time. All she could think about was him.
Now, y/n wasn't a virgin (thanks to Jeno at summer camp a few years back), but it had been quite some time, and even then, she still lacked experience. And then there was Mark. She knew for a fact that this man was a virgin, mostly because y/n just so happened to be his first kiss.
y/n sighed quietly , feeling as though the air had thickened with tension, but she waved it off as her hormones being crazy.
“ah what are you thinking about?”
y/n snaps back to reality hearing mark’s voice question her.
"Ah, nothing," y/n stammered, her face heating up. Mark looked her up and down before slightly laughing. For some reason, his laugh sounded extra beautiful today, pulling at y/n's heartstrings. "If it's nothing, why are your cheeks turning pink?" Mark questioned, tilting his head.
y/n sighed again, unable to resist any longer. She leaned in and captured his lips in a heat-searing kiss. It started off a bit slow, each of them carefully kissing one another, trying to find a steady pace.
But as soon as y/n heard a small whine from Mark, the kissing quickly deepened, hands began to roam over one another.
y/n squeezed Mark's arms, feeling his muscles, as Mark gently put his hand on y/n’s back, softly rubbing it. "Do you wanna take this off?" Mark asked between kisses, gesturing to y/n's shirt, to which she nodded, letting him take it off.
"Wow, you're so gorgeous," Mark exclaimed, looking at her toned body, kissing her body, causing shivers to go up her spine as she urged him to take his shirt off. Mark obliged, pulling it off swiftly in one motion, showing off his sculpted body. "Whew, I really got you right, huh?" the girl giggled, sliding into Mark's lap as he simply hummed, going back into kiss her before she broke apart, before he could protest.
She began to trail kisses down his neck and across his chiseled torso. Mark groaned with pure pleasure; he could feel his cock twitching in his pants as his body overheated with need. He'd never felt like this before, and he couldn't get enough of it. As if by instinct, his superhuman strength took over, and he flipped y/n swiftly, pinning her down on her soft mattress, causing a small yelp to leave her mouth.
y/n's eyes widened at the surprising gesture. Mark's eyes widened as well as he went to apologize for being too rough before y/n cut him off, saying she liked it, getting another well-earned moan out of Mark. He couldn't help but pause again to just look at her beauty and melt in it.
"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he said, sighing as he watched her take off her bra.
She smiled, throwing her bra across the room before pulling his face down to meet hers.
"Quit talking and show me," she said, giggling, getting a "Yes, ma'am" from Mark as he began to trail kisses all over her body, eliciting so many beautiful noises he could get lost in.
He kissed carefully between her thighs before his fingers trailed her clothed pussy. He groaned at the wetness from her panties as she moaned at the light touch of his fingers.
"Can I take these off?" Mark asked, dazed.
"Mhmm," Y/N eagerly agreed as she watched Mark loop his fingers in her panties before taking them off.
"Fuckkkk. I need to taste you," Mark groaned as he gazed at her cunt, all sticky and wet, just waiting for him.
y/n let out a measly please before Mark opened her legs and his mouth latched onto her cunt. Mark's tongue moved fast and then slow, a bit confused on what to do but somehow still enjoying himself as he got lost in the taste.
y/n slightly giggled, looking down at him before bucking her hips, urging Mark to follow the same pace with his tongue.
And that's all Mark needed before y/n was rhythmically riding his tongue, both of their minds lost in pleasure, as y/n went down to fist Mark's hair.
"Aa-h, tastes sooo good," he moaned in between eating out her cunt. He looked up with the biggest puppy eyes, his chin wet before tilting his head and asking y/n if he's doing "good." Something about Mark being in between her legs, eyes all big and chin all wet, practically begging for praise only made y/n get wetter.
"Mhmm, doing so good, Markie, so good baby," y/n stammered as Mark moaned at the nickname, as he went a bit faster, soaking up all her juices on his tongue.
"M-Mark, slow down, l'm gonna-" y/n huffed out, trying to pull away from him as he held her down, going a bit faster.
He moaned against her cunt, making her head spin and legs shake from pleasure.
He pinned her thighs down, lapping her pussy up a few more times before he felt her thighs clench around him, her voice gets higher and he felt even more wetness on his face as he lapped up her cum. He moaned at the taste as y/n backed up, overstimulated from pleasure.
"Mark, ah, enough, uhh," y/n moaned as the boy quickly sat up, giving the girl a sorry as she giggled & trying to catch her breath.
She sat up on the bed, looking at him with such adoration. "You did such a good job, thank you," she said, smiling.
"Ah, you taste really good, I could do it for hours," Mark said shamelessly as y/n eyed his pants.
"Do you want me to help you too?" y/n asked, staring at Mark's hard cock in his pants.
Mark nodded before opening his mouth."I want to be in you... if that's okay," he said sheepishly, like he didn't just eat her pussy like he hasn't eaten in years. y/n giggled before laying on the bed, gesturing for Mark to take off his pants.
He groaned, pulling them down, and y/n almost passed out as his cock sprung from his underwear.
"What the fuck Mark, you're huge," y/n groaned, a bit shocked.
"Yeah, I think it had something to do with the spider bite," Mark playfully joked before hovering on top of Y/N.
"I don't have a condom," Mark said quickly, getting ready to get off the bed before Y/N stopped him.
"No worries, I'm on birth control," Y/N said, making Mark grin widely.
"Ah, okay-uh, one more thing," Mark quickly added, not wanting to ruin the moment anymore.
"Mhmm?"y/n asked, curious.
"I just really like you, and we spend so much time together, and we've kissed, and now we are doing this, but I just... please be my girlfriend," Mark said sincerely, looking into the girl's eyes.
y/n smiled, giggling before saying a yes.
"Okay, yes, but ask me again when your dick isn't out, Mr. Romantic," y/n said, making Mark warm up a bit at his sudden outburst.
"Now come here, Spider-boy, I need you," and with carnal speed, Mark was on top of y/n trailing kisses down her neck again, feverishly kissing and bitting her lips trying to get those sweet noises out he lips again.
"Can I please?" Mark moaned as y/n nodded, signaling him to put it in. Mark groaned one last time, getting a good look at the beautiful woman under him before slowly sliding the tip in her even wetter cunt, causing a moan from both of them.
"Fuckkkkkk, you feel so good and warm and fuckk, oh my god, I feel so wow," Mark blubbered in pleasure as he pushed in deeper.
"Oh my god, y/n, you're clenching so fucking tight around my cock, you're so fucking wet I can't," Mark said mindlessly as y/n groaned at the words coming out of his mouth. Mark started to go slowly, rhythmically, as they both moaned in unison at how good it felt.
"Fuck, baby, you're so pretty and tight," Mark threw his head back, speeding up his hips, not stopping anytime soon.
"Mm, Markie, so big... I'm so full," y/n stuttered as Mark went even faster at the praise.
"Mhmm, yeah, baby, it's good?" Mark moaned out softly, caressing y/n's face with his hand.
"So-so good,"y/n whimpered, eyes rolled back in pleasure.
Mark took one more good look at y/n before his hips stuttered, he came into y/n's warm cunt, his mouth spewing out loud "fucks" and "baby" as he slowly fell on top of y/n, lost in bliss.
y/n caught her breath before laughing a bit, holding the boy tight in her arms.
"You did so good, Markie, I'm proud of you," she said quietly into his ear as the boy gave her a quiet "thank you."
They both lay there for a while in each other's arms, comfortable.
"Hey, y/n?"
"Mm, yes, Markie?"
"Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Mark asked again, giggling.
"Of course I do. Now let's go get cleaned up; you can stay the night if you want," y/n said, a smile hinting in her voice.
Mark got up, helping y/n off the bed as he carefully guided her to the bathroom, hand in hand with stupid smiles on both of their faces.
•
•
did u guys see mark’s new accc and his posts??????! SPIDER MARK IS ALIVE AND WELL AHHH😭😭😭😭😭😭🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️💔💔💔 also i turned 20 LOL
#mark lee#nct 127#mark lee nct#nct dream#mark lee reader#nct au#nct fluff#nct scenarios#nct smau#mark fluff#mark lee spider man#mark lee smut#mark smut#nct smut#kpop smut#nct fic#nct 127 smut#marklee reader#mark lee fluff#nct u#nct x reader#nct reader
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ive done a lot of translating to high valyrian in my day and id like to think im pretty good at it sometimes (the way ive spent literal hours researching how just one piece of grammar works to change a noun to an adverb or something is maybe insane)
anyway all that to say i usually know what to look for and how to apply it, but i am struggling with this new bit im trying to translate. “i disdain all glittering gold.”
ive replaced disdain with hate cause there doesnt seem to be a word for disdain in valyrian and hate is the closest approximation. same with glittering — replaced that with shine, and had to manually transform that to an adjective (jehikagon -> jehikere? dunno if its right)
so what i have now is “nyke buqan unir jehikere aeksion”
(im not as concerned with getting the word order right as i am with the rest of the grammar)
ive learned from a previous answer “nyke” is potentially (probably) unnecessary here, so that leaves it as “buqan unir jehikere aeksion,” but the unir there in the middle kinda makes it feel off and im not sure if maybe that also needs to be part of a compound word like valar or how to make it one if so because idk what part of valar is all and what part is men and how to fit aeksion into that equation.
i lost track of what my question was originally meant to be but i guess im wondering if im on the right track and if theres some guidance you may have to get me all the way there.
thank you for your time 🙏
Uhhhhhh... Not to be that dude, but...maybe be more concerned with that...?
I'm not sure if you know about this site, but my wiki is exhaustively updated with respect to High Valyrian, specifically. There's a team of people that work on High Valyrian and it's massive. For example, you could go to the entry for jehikagon and see that jehikere is wrong: it should be jehikare. And, of course, it has to agree with āeksion (note the long ā), so it should be jehikarior. To get the sense of repetitiveness (with "glittering"), you might add ā- to the front, so ājehikarior.
Now for "all", why not use the collective? This is how you get "All men must die", so it should work for "I distain all glittering gold". That would be āeksior. Of course, it would need to be in the accusative, so altogether it would be ājehikarior āeksȳndi. By adding the repetitive you kind of get the aliteration, too, since they both begin with ā.
Finally you have "disdain", for which buqagon serves. Aside from sound a little more posh, the difference between "disdain" and "hate" in English seems to be one of duration. The words "disdain" and "loathe" seem to emphasize that this is a character trait rather than a reaction. If you disdain something, you've given it some thought, have experience with it, and may use this as a way of describing or characterizing yourself. You can do this with "hate" as well, but it's a much more common word, and so can be used in other more basic ways, whereas "disdain" and "loathe" tend to only have specalized uses. To try to approximate this, you could use the frequentative with buqagon to imply a lengthy duration. That would give you jobuqan "I disdain". In fact, you could even use the aorist if you really wanted to imply that it was a description of yourself, i.e. jobuqin.
Now that you have the pieces, though, I really hate to say it, but the words must be in the right order. I mean, you can change the order of the noun and adjective, if you'd like, but you simply cannot put the verb first and think you've created a Valyrian sentence. It's not just "kind of" wrong: it's completely wrong. It'd be like suggesting "I him saw" is close enough in English because the forms are correct. It's not. It's wrong. This is not a minor part of the grammar you can ignore. High Valyrian is aggressively verb-final. The verb must be at the end.
All in all, that gives you:
Ājehikarior āeksȳndi jobuqin.
Hope that helps!
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Ryunosuke is done! Designed by and made for an anonymous user.
This exact design will not be remade without permission from the original designer, please do not inquire. 🙏
This little one is made ENTIRELY of mochi minky and stuffed with mochi stuffing. They're 18 inches from the top base of the hood to the bottoms of their little dangly feet. 16 inches without the hood. Details are machine embroidered with a few that are machine appliqued. Their hood is removable but the rest of their costume is not. There are glass pellets in the snout of the hood to help keep the hood on the head. The hood cannot stay put without adjustments.
My first project that isn't a small premade plushie entirely of mochi minky 🫣 it wasn't difficult at all! I was expecting quite a bit of seam ripping, but it was minimal!
Making the hood was simple. Making it removable was not. 😅 To keep the shape of the reference, the hood is stuffed. The stuffing made the inside puff up too and it looked like they were wearing a pillow as a hat! I took as many seams as I could in, but not much helped. Making thread sculpted anchor points around a few points of the seams did help, but left dimples in the process. They could be hidden with adjusting (poking them out from inside) but the disappointment weighed heavy that I couldn't figure out something more hidden.
The little cowlick on the back of the head needs to be brushed to one side and the hood pulled over the head while you partially push their head back! Luckily the snout makes for an accessible handle. 😳 I contemplated if the hood was just too small/sh in the back but it fits fine when adjusted. 😮💨
To end on a positive note, I do not regret the extra time I put in the hood! 😊 I would like to do some research on adding structure and shape to a soft sculpture without adding fiddly stiff interfacing, but for now... Almost at my letter limit (copypasted from my IG reel, sorry!)!
Too much yapping, I'll end it here! Very fun project!
#plush#plushie#commission#handmade#customplush#handmadeplush#custom plush#chocobo#final fantasy#final fantasy series#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy 14#fanart
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Mirror Mirror 🪞
So I read this man’s route. The translated version provided by @aishangotome it was so good! There’s quite a few translations on their page. Go check it out!! 😄 It took me a couple days to process what I read because I binged the entire thing, including both endings 🤣 this is a mess of a post 🙈 the rest of this post will contain spoilers, if that’s not something you want to see please scroll away 😂 anyway thank you @aishangotome for your translation work! Now let’s talk about the man in question, Alfons
Warning ‼️ contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some including but not limited to: death, addictions, trauma, etc.
The tragic fate attached to his curse is exactly what I thought it would be, to be forgotten by everyone who knew him after he dies. I can only imagine how painful that is. Lots of people nearing death tend to talk about their memories a lot and often I’ve heard them say “I’ll be remembered for x,y,z”, Alfons can’t have that… well, not completely… I like that the writers added the part of Roger and Kate doing some research of people who were involved with someone who has the mirror curse. It opened up another avenue, the name and face may be forgotten but the impact the cursed one had on the other person is not. In fact it leaves the person with a sense of emptiness, like they’ve forgotten something important. While that can be painful, it also means that the life of the cursed one matters, they’re important. I can imagine that no one wants to leave their loved ones with that kind of pain, a pain that will never really heal over time because they’ll always be wondering what/who their forgetting and that could potentially lead to always trying to find answers. It can potentially drive a person crazy. Despite all that, I think I agree with Kate. All of that pain and suffering is worth it. Sure you end up making memories that you’ll eventually forget and you’ll forget the important person but, your body and emotions don’t forget, it’s still actively being felt. That’s why Alfons loving Kate means tearing her life to shreds, leaving unforgettable marks on her entire being. It’s also why he’d prefer to die after her, he genuinely doesn’t want to be forgotten by her. I think in the fake wedding event epilogue she says something about dying together 🤔 I can’t quite remember.
Moving on! The way he goes about using his abilities doesn’t strike me as “evil” necessarily. On his personal time I mean!! He’s certainly making criminals go mad as part of his judgement on them 😂 although it’s a bit twisted, the way he makes himself available for random people to use his power is a form of care. It’s not good to run away from the reality of a situation but many times people wish they could. That’s kind of where addictions and bad habits come from. But even if it’s not that extreme, reading a favorite book, watching a favorite show, playing a game, etc. are also ways to escape reality for a while. I like the way the character Alfons basically encompasses the idea of escapism. It’s an extreme version of something everyone does in their own way. I’ve always loved how writers have the ability to create a whole new world where you can just get lost in. It’s what inspires my career choice and seeing people’s reactions to anime, games, stories, etc. continues to motivate me. I’d love to help create a world one day for people to enjoy. Reading Alfons’s route weirdly motivated me more 😂 without moderation, anything can become an addiction, but it’s sometimes hard to create these moderations. Alfons always makes himself available, his free time is literally dedicated to sex addicts behind a bar and people in the east side(?) of London. Moderation is not in that man’s vocabulary 🤣 He can say it’s for entertainment all he wants but I think he’s somewhat genuinely concerned 😂 he’s like a drug though, have a small taste and you end up wanting more and more.
I don’t particularly like the man’s personality but I understand it a lot better now. I can somewhat respect it but thats it 🤣 His lifestyle choice truly is understandable after reading his story and the “why” behind it all pulls at my heart a bit. Honestly the way he found out about his curse and fate did not help at all 😂 like young Roger had absolutely no consideration when he dropped the info on him. To young Roger it was like “a new subject!” Damn, what if he would’ve turned out a little different had young Roger just gone about it a different way. I believe this is the reason they don’t get along(?) it’s my understanding at least. When the route comes out in English I’m looking forward to reading his side stories to get to know him even more. I definitely find him interesting from a writing perspective. Great character concept and execution!
AH! I forgot to touch on the Elbert/Alfons dynamic. They’re so cute 🥰 you can really tell they care for each other. With their silly bets, Alfons leaving Elbert a handwritten note, and just other things 🤭 it’s great
This is such a bad pile of notes, I apologize for any mistakes but I needed to get my thoughts down and out 😂 Thank you
#cybird ikemen#ikemen series#ikemen games#Ikemen spoilers#cybird otome#ikemen villains#ikevil#otome games#ikemen alfons#ikevil alfons#alfons sylvatica#ikemen villains alfons#ikemen roger#ikemen villains roger#roger barel#ikevil roger#ikemen elbert#ikevil elbert#elbert greetia
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Hi, could you do Bill Kaulitz imagine, comforting the female reader, because it's been very stressful for her lately?
ᡣ𐭩 boyfie bill who nurtures his gf
you slam the door, flinching, you didn’t expect it to be so loud although it was intentionally you’re doing. bill welcomes you with open arms but you walk right past him, a pout forming on his face. he swears he can see the storm clouds floating above your head, today was just not a good day. or week, you’ve been stressed for some time.
“schatzi, bad day?” all you could do was sigh and nod, back facing to him but he can still see the motion of your head moving up and down. this is all he needs for him to sweep you off your feet and face you now hand in hand, twirling you to meet each other’s eyes. “bill?” you ask.
he smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands as you nuzzle your nose into his palms, taking in his scent. home, bill smelled so much like home. you feel a little bit more comfort knowing that you have someone like him in your life, “you’ve done so much this week baby.. let me show you some appreciation,” “bill, i’ve got more work to do..”
he shakes his head in disapproval, “i won’t take no for an answer, c’mon, you deserve it. how ‘bout a bath? and while you’re in, i can cook a meal.. after that, we can watch a movie, do face masks, snack on whatever we want..? just—spend time with me—you’ve overworked yourself, now lemme paper you ja?”
you hesitate. your office job clearly working you to the bone. just paperwork after paperwork, call after call. no lunch break, overtime. you’re boss is an asshole. you only have one or two friends at work, the rest of them dare not to associate with you. a day to you and bill.. does sound pretty nice.. well, fuck it, those corporate slaves can go kick rocks.
you pull bill in for a hug, a nice squeeze and the way your face dug into his chest was all he needed to realize your approval. kissing the top of your head, he breathes you in, “my beautiful angel.. let’s go run you that bath hm?” “mmhm..” taking your hand, he leads you to your shared bathroom.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
sitting in the warmth of the bath tub, bubbles are all that surround you as the faint scent of coconut and vanilla fill the room. you dip your body further into the big puddle of water, submerging yourself, body and muscle finally relaxing from all the tension and strain your poorly funded office chair has you stuck in for a consecutive eight hours.
a patter of small footsteps come closer as you’re now met with your boyfriend sitting at the edge of the bath tub. “how s’that feel? feel better?” “definitely, i needed this so much.. thank you baby,” bill runs the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, slightly adding pressure to message the tension out of your body. just a slight touch is more than enough.
“it’s my duty as your boyfriend.. been working so hard my pretty girl, a lil’ self care don’t hurt doesn’t it?” you scoff at him, knowing of your workaholic tendencies. on multiple occasions bill has offered many times a self care day as such, which always ends with a decline. you were so stubborn, a determined individual to get your work done but at what cost? this, is way better than that stupid office job.
“bill,”
“yes baby?”
“i smell something burning,”
“oh shit—mwah—THE FOOD!!!”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
you and bill had ended up ordering takeout for the night. as you two cuddle on the couch covered in blankets, bill sulks as he takes a bite of his pad thai. “bill! it’s okay, i appreciate the gesture, you’ve done enough baby i promise.” “no! no baby it was—it was supposed to be perfect for you. i stayed up all night researching comfort foods and i couldn’t even do a simple recipe like that..” he stayed up all night?
as he fusses in his spot, his face mask threatens to slip off his face from so much facial expression movement. you use your fingers to fix and adjust the sheet mask back comfortably onto his face, the cooling sensation once again touching his plush cheeks. “billy, it’s okay, it’s just food.. next time okay?” “next time :D? we can do this next time :D?”
you giggle and laugh at him, he’s so cute. linking arms with him, you scarf down on the fried rice, it was really good. you think about how good bill’s cooking would taste, known for being a great home chef. well, to you and tom at least. your day was made so much better, all warm and cozy inside, so grateful to have bill in your life.
you look at bill who’s already looking at you. he asks you if you were okay because he’d been watching you eat this whole time and saw how you seemed lost in thought. you reassure him, letting him know that you are just thankful that he’s doing all this for you, he can only cheekily smile and tell you ‘you deserve it, my beautiful princess, s’glad i was able to make your day.’
you take each other’s face masks off. you massage the essence of the face mask onto bill’s face. he closes his eyes for better leverage as you gently press your fingers into his cheeks, forehead and every nook and cranny of his face. you tap his face so he can open his eyes as you finally finish. as you raise your hands to start on yours, bill swats them away and tells you ‘lemme do it!’ as he brings his own to massage your cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he starts.
you think about a resignation.
oooookay this one was bad . sorry guys D: i appear to be losing my spark
FRET NOT ! i am not leaving , just probably won’t be as active as i think i’ll be . will occasionally post :3
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x y/n#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x y/n#bill kaulitz x you#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz fluff#2000s#fyp#billskeis
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Speed Drive
🎉500 celebration fic🎉
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 6.2k
Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol
Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.
A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.
* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*
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You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.
Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.
He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.
The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.
"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.
He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.
"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"
"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"
"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.
"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.
"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.
"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.
You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"
"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.
You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"
"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"
"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.
"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.
"Get it nice and toasty for me?"
"What are you? Banana bread?"
"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.
"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.
You wink at him, "okay, dad!"
"Lil shit" he says with a smile.
—
Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.
Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.
He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"
"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.
"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.
"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.
"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.
"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"
"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.
"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.
"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.
You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.
He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"
"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"
"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.
He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"
"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.
"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.
"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.
He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"
"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.
"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.
"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.
He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"
You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.
"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"
"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."
"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.
"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"
"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.
"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"
Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"
You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.
"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"
You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.
"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.
You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.
"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.
You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.
"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"
He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.
"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.
"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"
"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"
"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.
"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"
Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.
You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.
Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.
Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.
—
Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.
He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.
He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.
A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.
You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.
"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.
"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.
"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"
"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"
Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.
Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.
Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.
"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.
He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.
Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.
"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.
"Or sleep" he grumbles.
"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."
He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.
Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.
"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"
—
You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.
Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.
"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"
Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.
"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.
Click.
"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.
He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.
You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."
"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.
Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.
—
After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.
Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.
Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.
"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.
"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"
You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"
"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"
"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.
"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"
"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"
"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"
For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.
"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"
—
"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"
"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.
"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"
He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"
"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"
"Why not?"
"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"
He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.
"We've got time to spare"
"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.
"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"
Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.
You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.
"Aww, I think we used it all"
"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.
"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.
"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.
"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.
"No, maybe you should say it often"
So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"
—
You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.
Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.
You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.
The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.
Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.
"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"
He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.
Click.
"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.
"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.
Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.
It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.
Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.
"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.
"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.
"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.
Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'
—
You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.
He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.
"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.
You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?
You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"
"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.
You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"
He nods, unconvinced.
After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.
"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.
"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"
"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.
Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"
"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"
"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"
"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.
Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.
Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.
"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.
—
You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.
Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.
The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"
"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."
"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.
"Are we still far?"
"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.
"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.
"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"
"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.
—
As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.
"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"
"Missing home already?"
"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.
"They also have a serial killer too"
You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"
He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.
"Hobie, you're joking right?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.
He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.
"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.
"We could always take a detour right now–"
"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.
He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.
—
An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.
Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.
"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.
Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"
He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.
You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.
"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.
"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.
"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'
You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.
—
You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.
"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"
Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.
There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.
The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.
"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.
"Add that to the list"
"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'
"There," you hum happily.
"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.
"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."
You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.
With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.
You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.
At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.
Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.
"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"
"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"
"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.
"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.
Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.
"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.
"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.
"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."
He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.
A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.
"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.
You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.
A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️
#500 celebration#happy 500!#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown#spider punk#x reader#atsv fanfiction#spider man across the spider verse#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv hobie#hobie brown x gn!reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown x y/n#spider punk x y/n#spider punk x gn! reader#spider punk x you#cw food mention#hobie fluff#fanfic
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Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Look, I gotta be honest, I've never actually watched One Piece outside of the episodes that would air on Toonami back in the day, and I only really cared enough about it because my brother-in-law and my irl best friend both LOVE One Piece... and now my older brother is getting into One Piece too... but like I said in a previous post, I caved and ended up watching the One Piece Live Action (though I guess it didn't help that seeing Taryn cosplay as Zoro kinda reawakened my crush on ZoloZoro as a 4kids)... and I'm also sick right now and I have nothing better to do than write some Zoro boyfriend headcanons apparently. Aside from watching the OPLA, I did do my research on Zoro.. research being reading his page on the OP Wiki 😂😂
Okay, I'm rambling too much and this is still the introduction asdfghjkl
EDIT: Added the links lmao
~ Masterlist ~
The way Mackenyu said that he looked at his wife and knew that he wanted to marry her (supposedly, I couldn't find any concrete sources for this save for a YouTube video using TTS... but hey, it fed my imagination for this), I felt that so much for Zoro.
Of course, it doesn't happen overnight for Zoro. It takes a while, maybe even years, for him to look at you and be like, "I wouldn't mind settling down with you if possible." Oh boy, but when it does happen, he becomes very perceptive of you.
Just like his training, he takes his relationship with you very seriously, and even if he doesn't act on his feelings for you straight away--because one, he has a strong sense of duty to Luffy first, and two, you'd be his first and maybe only romantic partner ever--he'd still reserve a certain amount of softness and gentleness to you when not in the presence of others.
Let's go back to Zoro's perceptiveness really quickly. Yes, my man can be a dumbass at the best and worst of times and we all love that about him, but when it comes down to what's important, he knows how to analyze and read the situation. So, because he views you as someone important and someone he should take seriously, he's going to personally be making sure that you're okay, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He's that dedicated to you.
There will be times where his loyalty to Luffy might have to take center stage in the relationship, especially if its during a critical juncture, rest assured that he will do his best to make it up to you afterwards. He doesn't voice it often because of his strong loyalty to Luffy, but there are brief times in which he wishes that he could just spend time with you.
Now, Zoro isn't one for PDA, he gets very embarrassed by it because showing affection in public isn't something that he's comfortable with doing, but, get him out of public and into private, that man is on you, no question. The most affection he's comfortable with showing in public is you two taking a nap together, or even sharing a bottle together (which is very hard to get him to do, the man loves his alcohol, so congrats if you manage it).
As an official romantic partner, he's actually very sweet. Yes, he can come off as very blunt and cold sometimes, but he's just being honest with you. To him, its more important to be truthful than to sugarcoat things. For you, however, he's working on saying things more gently if in the case you get hurt by his initial blunt tendencies. Past that, however, he tends to you with the same care he tends to his swords. He sees a fruit or snack that you adore in the markets when he's helplessly lost? He'll absolutely buy it for you. Finds an item you've been wanting for a while? Don't worry, he's already paying for it. He finds out that you maybe feel a bit homesick? He'll begrudgingly ask Sanji to cook one of your favorite hometown dishes. He sees that you're feeling down on yourself? He's there to either quietly lend an ear or his presence, whichever you need. My man is an attentive boyfriend.
Also also, Zoro is a man of few words, so don't expect to hear him say, "I love you," very often, but that's okay. He's a man of few words, but his actions speak so much for him. You can feel him say those words in the way he kisses you thoughtfully, in the way he holds you so securely to him when you two nap or sleep together, in the way he dutifully monitors your alcohol intake (if you drink alcohol of course), in the way he tends to you carefully if you get hurt in a fight. To him, words are useless and actions mean so much more.
In other words, Zoro would make the best boyfriend in his special own way.
#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x you#zoro x you#one piece zoro#op zoro#one piece live action zoro#opla zoro#zoro#roronoa zoro#raine rambles and muses#too much in the intro
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Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.
I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them.
So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.
I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about.
Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.
“I don’t do families.”
“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”
“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”
“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”
“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]
The entirety of The Lodger
“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”
The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?
Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die.
“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”
This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’
This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.
Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact.
Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.
“This planet is protected.”
“Christmas has a new sheriff.”
For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it.
“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”
“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.”
There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death.
Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.
Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation.
“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”
The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library.
The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head.
While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.
The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.
So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?
The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.
Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.
Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments.
“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”
Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why.
“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”
But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that.
Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.
“But you’re fine.”
“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”
15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe.
But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it.
Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time.
She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness.
“Doctor! You can stop now!”
“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”
“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.”
“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”
Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.
Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”
Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind.
That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.
And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping?
“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be.
#doctor who#doctor who spoilers#fourteenth doctor#donna noble#dw meta#dw spoilers#doctor who meta#meta writing
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YR fanfic pet peeves (and corrections): latin america edition
so. i was originally going to post this in january as a kind of "new year, new opportunity to learn about simon's hispanic heritage" kind of a thing, but life got busy, and then my computer died and i lost my original list, so i've had to reconstruct this from memory as best as i could. there may be some stuff missing, so perhaps i'll just keep adding to this post as missing/new points come to mind.
disclaimer 1: if you've included any of the points made here on any fanfic of yours, please don't take this as a call-out. this isn't intended to shame anyone, but rather as an educational opportunity. it's very rare that a latin american nationality that is not mexican or colombian or puerto rican is showcased in an international show, especially outside of the US, and it's given me such joy to have all of you lovely folks make the effort to be open to and research and understand the idiosyncrasies of simon's (and omar's) heritage because the rest of latin america tends to go overlooked in most other fandoms. so i don't intend to scold anyone with this. we can't all know everything about every other culture-- lord knows i don't know everything about sweden, but i want to be respectful to the country and its people and that is why i heavily research anything i don't know and ask people who do know when my research doesn't quite cover it and am open to corrections when even that falls short. i expect most of you come to write about simon's family background in good faith and also want to be respectful to his family's culture, and so i thought i might make things a bit easier for you all by putting the most common errors/misunderstandings i've seen in one handy post. but once again, it's not a call-out, i don't get offended by these things, and i'm in no way implying, if you've done any of these things in fic or in life, that you are a bad person. i understand people make mistakes when they don't know things.
disclaimer 2: i am not venezuelan myself. i was born and raised in the same general region of latin america, though, and i have venezuelan friends and have worked with venezuelan people and have visited venezuela. generally speaking, i feel their culture is very similar to mine (though our spanish is much closer to spanglish than theirs is, haha xD) and feel a deep kinship with them. but of course, i'm no native, and if you're venezuelan and catch anything here that you feel is incorrect, feel free to point it out and i'll add a correction in your name.
warning: this is very long. christ almighty. DX if you can't make it to the end, tl;dr-- feel free to ask if you have any questions or if anything isn't clear. my ask box/messages are always open.
1- "mijo." this is the only one that legit has caused me to click out of several fics/chapters, at least in the beginning, but i've learned to grin and bear it by now. it's not so much that it's wrong, per se, but rather it's more of a location issue. "mijo" is, to my ears, very much a mexican (or, if you stretch it, northern triangle) slang. it IS used sparingly in other countries, but rarely used unironically. instead, if you hear the term used in the caribbean region of latin america (which my country is part of, as is a large part of venezuela), it's almost always used… let's say sarcastically. for example, if your grown-ass adult friend is being a dumbass and doing something reckless, you might call out "oiga, mijo, se va a romper el cuello" ("hey, mijo, you're going to break your neck"). basically, it's a way of calling someone immature like a child. it doesn't have to be ENTIRELY unaffectionate (kinda like the way someone might call their significant other "idiot" or "dummy" but mean it endearingly. in fact, in colombia it's way more common for spouses to call each other "mijo/a" than it is for them to call their children that), but you can also use it with complete strangers-- like if someone cuts sharply into your lane while you're driving, you might yell at them "oiga, mijo, a donde le enseñaron a manejar, en un potrero?!" ("hey, mijo, where did you learn how to drive, in a horse paddock?!"). but even in these sarcastic/neggy cases, it's rare. and EVEN RARER to hear a mother call her children "mijo" or "mija" in this region. it's just not a thing. so when i read it in fanfic, it immediately takes me out of the story because it's so weird to me that linda would sound mexican-- it's a very distinctive accent, which carmen gloria 1000000% does not have. (plus, "mijo" in spanish is a type of birdseed. so it gave me a chuckle the first few times i read it in a fic because i always have that brief second of confusion where i go "why is linda calling simon birdseed?" before it clicks. xD i'm a dork.) it's much more likely that linda would just say "hijo" or "mi hijo," instead.
1b- the way you decide on whether to use "hijo" or "mi hijo" is important because "mi hijo" can sound overly formal in the modern context especially, much like it would in english. in fact, you can use the english version of it, "son" vs "my son" to guide you on which of the two to use. like for example, if linda were to say directly to simon "i love you, my son," she would sound oddly old-timey and anachronistic, so you would just use "son" ("hijo") in that case. whereas if she's talking about simon with someone else, for example saying "i told my son to be here on time," you'd be perfectly okay to use "mi hijo" in that sentence in spanish. it's very transferable in that case.
2- speaking of non-transferable, though, you can't use "cariño" in all instances you would use "sweetheart" or "sweetie." it really depends on the grammatical construction, and it can be tricky to get it right, but it depends on whether you're using it as a direct address or as an object. for example, if you're using it in place of someone's name-- say, a mother telling her child "te quiero, cariño" ("i love you, sweetheart/sweetie") is perfectly fine, because in that case, she could also say "te quiero, hijo" ("i love you, son") or "te quiero, simon" ("i love you, simon"). but if, say, simon says to wille "you're my sweetheart," you would not use "cariño" there; you'd go instead with some syrupy way to say "boyfriend," like "eres mi novio" or "eres mi enamorado" or even "eres mi amor," and if sara tells felice "you're a sweetheart," that would also not involve "cariño" at all. in addition, "cariño" is also very rarely used in plural; if linda is using a term of endearment for both her kids, or for a group of teens her kids' age, she would use a different term of endearment altogether: "hola, mis amores" ("hi, my loves"), "hola, bebés" ("hi, babies") or "hola, mis tesoros" ("hi, my treasures") among some examples. one exception is when you say "cariños míos" ("my sweethearts"), but very rarely the plural by itself. in fact, "cariño" is often slang for gift or present, especially in the diminutive-- for example, if you go to someone's celebratory party for some occassion (birthdays, graduations, baby showers, heck even christmas), you might hand them a small gift and go "te traje un cariñito" ("i brought you a small present"), and if it's more than one gift, or you're bringing gifts for several people, then you'd say "unos cariños" or "unos cariñitos" in the plural.
3- simon's skin is tan, not tanned. this… doesn't personally bug me as much because it's more of an english grammar issue, but i know people who might actually feel very offended if you get this one wrong with respect to them. "tan" is a color; a light shade of brown. "tanned" implies the original color of your skin has darkened with the sun. now, i'm sure simon can tan (lucky goat, says she whose skin burns even while indoors), but about 95% of the time "tanned" is used in YR fanfiction, it's used as a descriptor of the color of simon's skin as we see it on the show. that would imply his skin used to be lighter at some indeterminate before-time and has been darkened by the sun. this is incorrect; that is the natural color of simon's skin. so stick to "tan skin" instead (not tan PERSON, mind you. his SKIN is tan, he is not). and i would gently suggest that if you take away any single thing from this post, make it ESPECIALLY this point, as someone more sensitive than me might interpret this error as some kind of retroactive whitewashing. and i don't want anyone here to get in trouble for simply not knowing.
4- pabellón criollo is one dish, yes, but it's four different FOODS. it's not something a newbie would be able to make off of a recipe (i don't know how to make it and i've been eating it all my life), and it's not something that's likely to be taught in just one day. also, if you're bringing it to a dinner or a potluck, you're bringing four separate food containers, not just one.
4b- also, venezuelan food, for the most part, is not particularly spicy. you CAN make it spicy if you want, but traditionally, it is not. it's flavorful, maybe even saucy depending on the dish, but rarely spicy. i know the joke of white people being unable to handle spice is funny, but there's also plenty of us hispanic people who are equally terrible at it, because there's different levels of spice in the food from different regions of latin america. besides, as a friend of mine perfectly put: we are living in the 21st century now. if you can eat mild mexican food, you should be able to handle traditional venezuelan food just fine. and i'm pretty sure there's mexican food in sweden. plus, wille would probably be more used to international food-- not only does he have the means, but having traditional meals in foreign countries is kind of part of the job.
5- while i'm at it: simon is definitely half venezuelan. this is canon as of S2. there is no other place in the world where that dish is called pabellón. please keep that in mind when you're writing and researching.
5b- this, along with several of the points above, is important because it's a bit of diaspora trauma that whenever we venture outside of latin america and people learn we're latino, they immediately assume we're mexican, or that our culture and traditions are the same as those of mexican people. it happens often, and it's incredibly annoying. not that there's anything wrong with mexico or mexican people-- they're lovely, and their traditions and culture and food are fantastic-- but we are not them, and treating us like we are is reductive. the rest of latin america can be very different and incredibly diverse, and it can be dispiriting when people treat us like we're all the same. so that is why it is important when writing about simon, his family or his venezuelan roots, that you take care to actually research things as they are in venezuela, and not just pick the low-hanging fruit of latino facts you might've learned through pop cultural osmosis, which eight times out of ten will be mexican-only because most hispanic people in the US are mexican and the US exports its media all over the world. i've learned to just roll my eyes at it by now, but some people might actually feel offended or hurt, and i'm sure nobody here intends for that to happen.
6- although simon speaks spanish, neither he nor sara nor his mother nor any aspect of his mother's culture is spanish. "spanish" is what people from spain call themselves. people from spanish-speaking latin american countries are not spanish; we are hispanic, or latino/a/e. "latinx" is… let's call it controversial, at least outside of the US. most people born and raised in latin america don't like it; i personally don't get offended if people use it, but i don't use the term myself. also, you can say "latin food" or "latin music," but we usually don't refer to PEOPLE as latin, but rather latino/a/e. if in doubt, just use latin american or hispanic. they're also conveniently gender neutral.
EDIT: @andthatisnotfake also brought up a very important point: "if you spell it latinx, it makes it harder for screen readers to read (or so I've been told) and some people depend on those, so there's another reason to avoid it." (the unpronounceability of that term is at least part of the reason why hispanic people who live in latin america don't like it.)
6b- never use "the latino/a" on its own to refer to people. "latino/a/e" is an adjective, not a noun, so you would say "the latino boy" or "the latino man" but never just "the latino." kinda like it would be weird to point out the one japanese man in a room as "the japanese." there are some nationality/ethnic terms that just don't work as nouns in english.
7- spanish is not simon's one native language-- or at least not any more than swedish is. he grew up in a mixed-race household, speaking two different languages. it's pointless to call spanish his native language when comparing it to swedish. both are his native languages. also, while we're at this, wille is probably at least bilingual (i'm assuming he can speak at least english), although he only has one native language. it's hardly a competition between the two boys as to who's more of a polyglot.
7b- simon wouldn't take classes on the spanish language-- like to learn how to SPEAK the language-- since spanish is one of his native languages. he wouldn't take them at hillerska, nor in university, nor elsewhere. he wouldn't be allowed. you're literally not allowed to take classes on your native language, nor get credit for said classes. trust me, those would've been an easy extra 24 credits for me in college if that was a thing.
EDIT: have been made aware (thanks, @rightsogetthis and @plantbasedfish!) that at least in sweden and in finland one IS allowed to take classes of your non-swedish/finnish native language, in certain circumstances. i have to say, i'd be pissed if i were taking my french classes alongside a french native speaker, but hey, the system's the system, i guess. ;) so i've struck this one out.
8- dear god please don't use google translate for your spanish translations. listen, i'm not judging-- i do it with other languages, too, when i'm in a pinch. but google translate is literally The Worst (tm) so i always try to either check with someone, or stick to the stuff i already know is correct. seriously, you don't want to know the kinds of crazy stuff GT can spit out that people actually put out in the real world; some of them are quite hilarious. if you're unsure, my ask box/messages are always open and i looooove helping people with this kind of thing, hispanic language and cultural stuff. i know it seems like i'm hardly around, but i do check my messages. don't be shy, even if it's something really small.
PS: while i'm talking pet peeves, malin is wille's bodyguard, not his butler. she's nice enough to attend to him at hillerska because there's no other palace staff around and she's literally stationed outside his door, but she wouldn't do that in the actual palace. there's other staff for that. she wouldn't even guard him at the palace, i don't think, because the royal palaces in sweden are guarded by the royal guard, not SÄPO. if anything, malin might spend the time while wille is in the palace grounds at a gatehouse (like in YR 2x03 and onwards) or at some kind of security office in the palace, and then get called whenever wille needs to go anywhere. she wouldn't be giving wille messages from the queen or walking guests to wille's room or anything like that. that's not her job. (sorry, i had to get that off my chest, lol.)
#young royals#young royals netflix#netflix#simon eriksson#sara eriksson#linda eriksson#omar rudberg#carmen gloria perez#latin america#latino#hispanic#latin american culture#latin culture#latino culture#hispanic culture#spanish language#i hope this is helpful#if not feel free to ignore lol
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Changes: a Poll-Fic
Chapter 7: Side With Ghost: End
The Fic on Ao3
Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6
Ghost must know something he didn't, and Gaz had never tried to interfere. Soap decided to side with Ghost, give him a moment to explain himself.
Aheh… hahah… ahahahaaa….
"Cap, let's hear him out."
Price looked equal parts surprised and concerned. At first continuing to hold the canister away from Ghost, before finally narrowing his gaze and slowly proffering it back towards the man he'd swiped it from. "Talk first." He demanded.
"It's an antidote." Gaz cut in before Ghost could speak. "Of sorts..." he added hesitantly.
Heheh… mmhmhhmhm…
"I just wanna fix what they did to my mouth." Ghost said quietly, voice barely registering over the roar of the engine and the sounds of the truck bouncing along the uneven dirt road. "We don't have enough to fix everythin'. Just let me fix this."
…Monstrous…
Hah… ahaha… ahahahahahahuhhhhh…
Price seemed to be shocked into silence. Or at least he had been, but he quickly rounded on Soap, and snapped at him. "Would you stop fucking laughing, Sergeant, this isn't the bloody time!"
What? "Ah'm no-"
Heheh… huhhhh… ahah…
"Dammit, Soap-"
"I don't think he can help it, Price." Once again, Gaz seemed to know more than the rest of them. "Doesn't seem to know he's been doing it. Must've been exposed."
"Exposed?" Soap asked dumbly.
Oh, so he didn't know… I'm sorry, Johnny…
"Gas born... something, that gets into you not through your lungs, but through an injury." Gaz gestured towards his arm with his head, where he had his free hand clamped hard over the wound. "Like a bullet wound or," he gestured towards Ghost. "His... everythin'."
"Your hand?" Price asked with a gentleness that he hadn't had since he'd picked the three of them up.
"He was laughing before they lopped off his fingers though." Ghost pointed out.
And that tracked. Soap had been hearing, no, apparently he had been producing the laugh since he'd entered that cursed spiral hall in the basement. Since he'd picked the locks... since he'd-
"I rubbed my eyes?" That couldn't have been it, could it?
"Before or after being exposed to the gas?" Ghost prodded.
"When was I exposed?" Soap hadn't noticed a gas, it must've been odorless, invisible.
Gaz confirmed that, then continued. "There were symbols painted on the door to where they were keeping Ghost, painted in this stuff." He kicked the backpack at his feet, full of canisters or the mystery substance. "The gas was the bio weapon we were sent to investigate. They've been testing it for a while. You would've been exposed to it when you broke the seals, and after, it spread throughout the entire facility."
"The laughing started after I opened that door, yeah. I didn't know it was me." Ghost put his left hand on Soap's shoulder, and Soap was grateful for the contact. He leaned his head on the other man's hand.
Mmmmmhmhm… hmhmhuhh…
Price seemed to make up his mind suddenly, as he grabbed his radio. "Laswell, you are clear for your airstrike."
"You all are danger close, John." She cautioned, her voice crackling through comms.
"Don't care, bring it all down." He sighed heavily. Then, "The research. What'd you find?"
Gaz looked at Ghost, then looked down at his feet. "They had a ton of test subjects. Every one of them developed some sort of insect-like features after exposure. Depending on the wound and the person, it could be more or less disturbing." He winced a bit, probably realizing how his words could hurt Ghost. "Some of the changes caused by a lengthy exposure seem to be irreversible, even with the yellow stuff." He continued avoiding eye contact with the Lieutenant.
Ghost leaned back and let his head knock off the side of the truck. "Fuuuuuuck." He closed his eye. He let his arm fall from Soap's shoulder.
Gaz continued. "It's suspected that there's a short window of effectiveness for this stuff. There was one guy, poor bastard, who was basically made of roaches. They'd cut him open and the bugs would pour out. Don't know how long they kept playing with the poor guy, but eventually they dropped his entire body into a huge vat of the stuff, and all that came out was a swarm of thousands of 'em. It didn't fix him." He took a shaky breath.
It occurred to Soap then that Gaz must've read about, or worse, watched, what had happened to the countless men who'd been tested on. What's more, he'd swiped the research data, so they had with them whatever he'd seen. Soap wasn't sure if he wanted to see it himself.
"I'm sorry, Ghost-" Gaz started, shakily, but Ghost cut him off.
"Pour it on your arm, Sergeant." He ordered.
"What?"
"Were there timestamps on those videos?" Ghost asked.
"I, erm... I had it on double speed, and wasn't really lookin'-"
"I was there. I saw what they did to him. It's too late for me." Ghost looked so dejected.
Aa Gaz did as he was instructed, Soap reached for Ghost. He brought up his right hand, the injured one, to place on Ghost's shoulder in support, to return the gesture, and it was then that he noticed it. His ring and pinky finger on that hand seemed to have been replaced.
Heheh…
He hadn't felt it happen, but something tore through the bandaging and was filling the fingers of his gloves. Slowly, Soap pulled the glove off. What appeared to be the pincers of a stag beetle were jutting out of the nubs where his fingers had been. He flexed his hand, and the pincers went up and down with his fingers. Tentatively, Soap tried and succeeded in opening and closing them as well.
Gaz started speaking again. "There was one scientist who theorized that it wasn't time based, but instead had to do with whether the person had all of their body parts back, as to whether or not they could be fixed. They took a lot out of that roach guy- oh shit." Soap looked up to see the others all watching him play with his new appendages.
Silently, Ghost handed him a canister.
"I don't have the fingers..." Soap whispered sadly.
"All we can do is hope you don't need 'em. Pour it on." When Soap took the canister and did as he was told, Ghost smiled. It was half hearted, but full of affection. "There's a good lad."
The odd not-quite-liquid, not-quite-gas flowed slowly over Soap's arthropodic digits. It chilled his entire hand, and sent electric tingles through his blood stream.
"Your eyes too, Soap." Price instructed. "Just to be safe."
Ghost took hold of the canister in his left hand, and cradled Soap's chin with his right. "Lean back." He instructed gently.
Heh…
Soap brought up his hand, making sure to cover Ghost's replaced digits with his own. "If it doesn't work, we'll be okay, yeah?"
Simon smiled at him. "Yeah, Johnny. We'll be alright, love."
Huhmmmmmm…
Behind them, Soap could see the fireball as the base was struck by the rockets.
***
Somewhere, deep within the jungle, a stag beetle with human fingers where it should have pincers followed closely a centipede with an eyeball for a head.
The pair made their way out of the burned rubble of a base that had come crumbling down on top of them. They made their way into the undergrowth, homing in on where they were meant to be, an entire world away.
The two were succeeded by a veritable army of roaches, dozens of them carrying teeth, and one a tongue.
#changes a poll fic#changes-a-poll-fic#call of duty#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#fanfic#modern warfare#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ao3#choose your own adventure#cyoa poll#cyoa#horror
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𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞
synopsis . colonel miles quaritch—respected, feared, a machine . now, only bluer and younger the recom was near perfect. that is, until he catches the scent of a younger, field trained scientist. a distraction..but maybe that’s just what this programed machine needs.
warnings . pretty simple chapter , reader hasn’t met quaritch , pinky is reader nickname ,
words . 1.3k
notes . tag lists now open , js shoot me a pm or an ask and i’ll get you added.
you were the last recom to wake. it was.. different. you felt as if you haven’t moved, like you were in a coma. you tried to make your movements as fluid as possible, the tail behind you making things wayy more difficult than it needed to be. curling itself when it shouldn’t have, obnoxiously wrapping itself around your arm, after a bit of time, you grew fond of it, like a little you that couldn’t hold a secret.
they dropped you off at a computer to have you watch a video of you. wait what? you didn’t get much time to process before the video was playing in front of you. you pulled your brows together, confused. it really was you—well, human you.
“ hi! so i’m not sure if you’ve caught on yet, but.. you’re me! surprise ! ” you giggle to the camera, you look around for something to talk about, biting down on your bottom lip.
“ let’s see.. i’m a field trained researcher, and i worked with grace, eywa rest her soul, so..i know quite a bit about the na’vi and their ecological systemm. i know i said i’m field trained, but i only got that because zdog double dared me.. we do not back down from double dares and we don’t break pinkie promises. ” you smile, shaking your head and covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your laugh. commotion in the background made your head turned, only for you to be engulfed in a headlock by your close friend, zdinarsik, but everyone calls her zdog. “ zee! get offf! ” you huffed, trying your hardest to get out of her grip. “ this is all-hmph! recorded y’know. ” zee paused her antics to wave to the camera before messing up your hair sone more before the colonel called her.
“ that’s my closest friend, she knows everything about me.. the things i wouldn’t dare say out loud, she already knows. ” you begin to ramble, you could go on and on about the people in your life, your new life here on pandora. it was absolutely breathtaking—aside from the animals who wanted you to never see the light of day once they get their teeth in you.
“ pinky! pinky, c’mon there’s a time limit on these things! ” you rolled your eyes at parker, calling you by the nickname grace so lovingly bestowed upon you. all because of one pinky promise bet you made to jake! it was simple really..you bet jake that he wouldn’t be able to get his own banshee, and he came back saying if he did, you’d have to go by pinkie around base till the end of time, or pandora is safe for humans. whichever came last that is.
“ wish i could tell you more! take good care of yourself, okay? zee too.. she acts like she doesn’t care, but she does. ” you stood up, holding your little finger to the camera, curling it as if the person on the other side looped it with yours. you blinked a few times before smiling and waving bye to the camera.
you looked around you, watching as more human-na’vi hybrids are pulled from what you assume were incubation tanks. you watched for a little, before you were directed out and onto a ship, headed for pandora. your ears perked up, blindly taking the breathing machine as you looked at the people floating in front of you. they didn’t look much smaller, at least not from your perspective. you strapped the mask over your face as you got on the ship. pulling at the straps securely, you made sure the mask was on tight enough one last time before you dazed off, wondering how much it has changed since you were last there, thankfully, it was a long way down to pandora.
the shift of the ship landing woke you. looking around slightly confused. you’re on pandora. you removed the straps, standing up and stepping out. feeling the heat of the sun against my skin, you stretched your limbs, your tail joining in on the fun.
“ this way, ” you follow behind the humans, leading you to wherever they needed you to go. you didn’t pay attention, you were too busy looking around, eyes landing and scanning everything around you.
“ the general, ” they state, snapping you out of your dazed state, you looked down, seeing a lady already engaged in conversation.
“ general ardmore? ” you spoke softly, not trying to stop their conversation, but just let her know you were here. she turned, bidding farewell to her colleague before fully turning to you.
“ y’n l’n, good to see you. ” you sat down on your knees before saluting. looking down so far hurt your neck..
“ we’ve brought you back to continue the avatar program. we want better avatars. with your research and you being the one to work under the late grace, you’ll be overseeing and ensuring our avatars are in the best shape. ” i nod once,
“ great. where can i set up? ” you say, pulling yourself to stand, gripping the straps of your backpack.
“ easy there, you’ve gotta learn your own avatar body first. ” your face turned a little darker, embarrassed that you missed that after working with the previous avatars.
“ right, thank you, general. ” you nod once, excusing yourself to find your room. getting in, you took a moment to look around. it wasn’t much, a bed, table and a bathroom. talking a breath, you settled, dropping your bag at the foot of the bed and plopping on the bed which was surprisingly soft. you groan, your lower back thanking you for giving it a rest. a soft chime rang through your room, confused you sit up. another chime. inwardly whining, you got up, opening the door only to be tackled in a bone crushing grip.
“ oh it’s really you! dude, took ya long enough! ” the much taller avatar pulled away from you, grin on their face, chewing gum. your brows pulled together, your mind putting together the puzzle pieces. your face lit up, jaw dropping and voice raising a pitch,
“ zee? ” she nods, bringing her hand to mess up your unruly hair. grinning, you threw your arms around her middle, tail swishing excitedly behind you. she laughed,
“ heard you had to go do some motor tests, so i opted to help ya, took the colonel forever to a king request though. ” she shrugged. you pulled back, telling her you needed to change, you turned, opting for some shorts and a cropped shirt they had for you in a bag.
“ ready? ” you turned to her, pulling your hair and kuru out of your shirt. she nods, gesturing for you to follow her. walking next to her, you jogged every now and again to keep up with her long strides. passing other avatars you concluded you were definitely irregular height. at 8 feet tall, you definitely we’re definitely an anomaly..
“ pinky! ” you jumped, head snapping up to zee, who just shook her head, pressing a flat hand to your forehead, you closed an eye, ears falling flat against your head, “ get outta ya head, you’re short, no biggie. just means you’ll be able to move faster. ” she smirked at you, looping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you reached a large room with various numbers of equipment and obstacles.
“ hope you’re ready cos ‘m not going to go easy on you, ” you huffed, pulling your hair into a makeshift bun before following her to the first piece of equipment.
published . september 28 , 2023
#avatar quaritch#recom quaritch#miles quaritch#colonel quaritch#miles quaritch x y/n#quaritch x reader#atwow quaritch#colonel miles quaritch#atwow x reader#atwow quaritch x reader#series : 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧#. character // miles quaritch
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