#and this particular anxiety has been worse since the last time i was at his apartment bc i had a panic attack on his floor over smth

[saturnsuv]

so at what point does the relationship anxiety go away

[bucksangel]

don't worry, darling

pairing: avenger!bucky x civilian!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget. 

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

a/n: even though this does not contain smut, my blog is 18+ so minors dni. also i wanted to write something short and sweet to get my creative juices flowing and yet, as always, i managed to go overboard

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It started with a whimper, a small one. Barely detectable if you weren’t already awake and snuggled against Bucky’s body. He’s lying on his side facing you with you mirroring his position, arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You’ve been having a hard time sleeping for the last week and a half due to Bucky being gone on a mission that didn’t allow him to contact you at all. Your restless nights were mostly due to worrying over your boyfriend’s safety, something you always do whenever he leaves. It was worse this time around, though.

It was a day before he was supposed to leave, and you knew you weren’t supposed to listen in on other people’s private conversations, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You’d come home early from work one day to find Steve and Bucky in your shared home office, stopping outside the door and getting ready to knock when you overheard something about an upcoming mission. It seemed pretty important so you decided not to interrupt them, though you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You’re never allowed to know anything about what Bucky’s missions entail, and some part of you wanted to listen in on their conversation to hopefully ease any worries about what might be happening to him since you’ll have a general idea of where they’re going and what they’re doing. 

According to Steve, although it was going to be a four-day mission, it was supposed to be relatively simple. Or, it would’ve been simple if it weren’t for the fact that the building they were being sent to scout was an old Hydra facility somewhere in Russia. The same Hydra facility where Bucky was held captive.

Upon hearing this piece of information you wanted to barge into the room and tell Steve off for letting Bucky be a part of this mission. It’s been nearly five years since he escaped and Bucky has mostly readjusted, has recovered from his trauma as much as one can after being tortured for decades. And you’ll be damned if anything jeopardizes that progress.

But you’d also overheard Bucky agreeing with the plans, helping Steve strategize, and going over all the information that needed to be obtained. And it wasn’t your place to tell Bucky what he could and couldn’t do. As much as you wanted to demand that he not go, he was his own person. And if he thought he could handle this mission then you’d have to find a way to support him.

The four-day mission turned into eight and by the sixth day with still no contact, you’d marched into the tower and demanded Fury call you with any and all updates he received. He said he would in a tone that made you believe he wouldn’t give you every detail, but it did help reassure you that if anything happened to Bucky then you wouldn’t be kept totally in the dark. It was nerve-wracking in the worst way, obsessively thinking over what Bucky could be going through - physically and mentally.

But on the eighth day, Fury had called you on your lunch break at work to tell you that Bucky was on his way back to the Tower and would probably be back at your apartment by early evening after the briefing and check-up in the medical wing.

All of your nerves and anxieties that built up over the last week were immediately replaced with relief flooding your body, your heart finally unclenching at knowing that Bucky would be back in a few short hours. One good thing about your job is that you don’t technically need to be in the office every day. As long as you get your work done you’re pretty much given free rein to leave whenever you want, and you’d finished your stack of paperwork maybe fifteen minutes before the phone call.

You gathered up your things quickly and stopped by your boss's office to wish her a good weekend, then made your way to your car to head home. Your heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly the closer you got to your apartment, and you had to remind yourself to focus on driving instead of daydreaming of being back in Bucky’s arms.

When you did finally get home, you made quick work of cleaning the entire apartment; changing your bed sheets, doing laundry, then pulling out food from the fridge to make dinner. You’d actually just gotten the chicken out of the oven when the front door opened, and your excitement at finally seeing your boyfriend again forced you to run out of the kitchen and down the hall. But you stopped a good six feet from the door, standing still at seeing Bucky’s bruised face and scabbed knuckles.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, finally noticing the spacey look in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over.

Bucky smiled at you, though it was more of a grimace, and you could tell it was mostly forced but he still wanted to acknowledge you. He approached you slowly, and you stood still so you would not startle him - he just seemed so on edge. He stopped not even a foot away from you, had stared down at you with a look in his eyes you hoped you would never see again - it was such an empty gaze, almost emotionless. There was no life in his eyes. It didn’t feel like the dead gaze was directed at you specifically, it was more like Bucky just couldn’t muster up any emotion at all.

That’s when you knew. Something went wrong.

Slowly, he brought up his right hand and placed it on the back of your head, tilting it up so he could really look at you, letting his gaze linger on your lips. Instead of kissing them, he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his left arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He didn’t speak as he slowly tucked you into his body, and you didn’t dare break the silence either, you simply wrapped your arms around his body as well, squeezing him tightly to let him know that you were there. You were there for him - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and you needed him to know that.

After maybe five minutes of no one speaking, of simply standing in the front hallway embracing each other, you decided to finally say something.

“I made dinner,” You whispered, running one of your hands up and down Bucky’s back. You pulled your head off of his chest but didn’t loosen your hold. “Chicken and mashed potatoes. I even made apple pie.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched again, and his attempted smile felt a little more genuine this time. His glassy eyes were filled with tears now, and he seemed oh so close to crying. You’d never seen him like this before, he was always happy, and smiling, even on days when he wouldn’t say it but you knew he still resented himself for his time as the soldier he would indulge in his hobbies to help him cope. But you’ve never seen him shut down before, and this is what this felt like.

You weren’t too sure how to help him, how to comfort him. But you had an inkling he might need some time to himself.

“How about you go shower and I can put the food away for later,” You said with a soft smile, speaking up again before Bucky had the chance to feel guilty, “I ate a couple of hours ago, I’m fine baby. Go shower.”

You lifted up on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him squeeze you to his chest one more time before he released you, slumping off down the hall to the bathroom.

That was two days ago, and Bucky hasn’t spoken more than a few words at a time since. Now, it’s not like he’s avoiding you, he’s actually a little more clingy than he normally is. You can tell he wants to say something, to tell you what had happened, he just doesn’t know how. He hasn’t told you everything about what happened to him during his time as the soldier, but you know enough and don’t push him to say anything he doesn’t want to.

At night, Bucky will go out onto the small terrace outside of your apartment and stare up at the stars for hours. You don’t sit with him for all of it, just for about one hour - cuddled close to his body and talking softly and mindlessly about anything you can think of, anything that might help Bucky open up. Then, around nine or ten, you’ll give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, one on his temple, and one final kiss on his lips before going to bed, letting Bucky be alone with himself and his thoughts.

Tonight, though, Bucky’s decided to climb into bed with you soon after dinner. You both showered together, washing each other’s bodies and sharing a few lingering kisses under the spray of the shower head. You didn’t go any further, but you did make sure to spend extra time massaging his shoulders and back, placing kisses everywhere you could reach.

It’s one in the morning now, and you hear another whimper. Bucky shifts beside you, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. Another whine. 

“Bucky?” You whisper, careful to not disturb the silence too much.

He responds with a mumbled ‘please’. Then, ‘no’.

“Buck? Baby?” You say a little louder, shifting in his hold but not able to move much due to his arms being wound around your body.

He shudders, pulling you further into him as his breathing picks up. He’s having a nightmare. Now, despite him being mostly healed, he still does have nightmares. They’ve lessened over the years, but they never truly go away.

When he’s in this mindset, you’re careful not to move too much and startle him awake. So, you simply shimmy your arm from under one of his so you can push on his chest and gently ease him onto his back. It takes a little more force than you’d like, but you’re eventually able to lay him flat on his back and untangle your body from his.

“Baby?” You whisper a little louder, placing your hand on the side of his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky.”

He groans; louder, desperate. He’s in pain. You run your hand down his face, down his neck, then land on his chest, right above his heart. It’s increased rapidly, and you can see beads of sweat coat his forehead.

“Bucky.” Your voice is pleading, and you push on his chest a little, now hoping to startle him awake before it gets worse. You don’t want to keep him in this nightmare, so you shake him again.

“Bu-” You’re stopped short by him gasping, his eyes shooting open and his body lifting off the bed slightly as he wakes up. Relief fills your body, and you sigh gratefully. You hate when he’s in pain, whether physical or mental, but you hate not being able to do anything about it even more.

Bucky doesn’t move right away, he squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fists momentarily. Then, when you place your hand on his cheek, his whole body goes limp, relaxing into the sheets under your touch.

“Baby,” He whispers hoarsely. “I…” He chokes back a sob, and you’re quick to adjust yourselves so you’re laying on your back and he’s laying almost entirely on top of you with his head on your chest right above your heart. He starts crying then, really crying. His arms wrap themselves around your midsection, and you wrap yours around his body as well, cradling him close to you.

“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble into his ear, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You continue cooing at him, whispering reassurances and declarations of love until his cries taper off into small whimpers and sniffles. You’re really worried now. Yeah, Bucky isn’t shy about expressing his emotions, and you’ve held him after nightmares and through the aftermath of difficult missions when he comes home disheartened. But he’s never been so vulnerable, and you want nothing more than to hold him close and protect him from everything bad in the world.

Silence envelops the both of you for a while. You want to allow Bucky to speak when he’s ready. And he does so after a couple of minutes.

“There was an agent; Alix, I think. I - I don’t remember his last name, but…” Bucky pauses, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his forehead. “For the last five or so years of me being… him, Alix was there. He’d… Any time I failed a mission, he’d be there. Out of all the Hydra agents that I’ve ever come in contact with… his punishments were the worst.”  He pauses again, sniffling softly and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his hair so you can run your fingers through his locks. Bucky shakes his head softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“He was there. When Steve, Natasha, and I went to the facility last week, Alix was there. And he… I don’t know. I saw him and I just went blank, my mind shut off. I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anymore, I know. I just… He just hurt me so fucking much.”

Bucky starts crying again, and you have to force yourself not to cry as well. You want to be here to support him, not break down as well because then he’ll feel guilty. He always says you’re one of the most important people in his life - Steve obviously being another one - and that seeing you cry makes him want to go feral on whoever or whatever made you sad.

“I had to,” he says, muffled by his face tucking into your neck. “I just. I couldn’t not. I thought I was ready, I thought I could go there and be okay. But I wasn’t. I… He broke me.” Bucky trails off, sighing heavily before he goes quiet again, giving you time to process this information.

“Baby,” You say, prompting Bucky to hum in acknowledgment. “Can you look at me, please?”

You know it takes a lot of effort, but he does. Bucky lifts his head from your neck, looking into your eyes with overwhelming sorrow. Bending your head, you place a quick kiss on his lips.

“This might sound odd, but I’m proud of you. You thought you were healed enough to do it, you went through the planning and probably had to hype yourself up a lot to even agree to the mission. And that’s immense progress. The fact that you even felt ready, even if you ultimately weren’t, you pushed through it and finished the mission. And that’s something to be celebrated. Sometimes recovery can be set back by certain events, but that doesn’t mean that everything else you’ve accomplished is set back as well. You tried, and I’m proud of you.”

With that said, you give Bucky another kiss, lingering a little longer this time before pulling back and holding his gaze.

“And I know you promised to not kill anyone, but I don’t blame you in this situation. I don’t know what this says about me, but even though I don’t know exactly how you killed him, and I don’t think I want to honestly, I do know he deserved far worse than what you gave him. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there because I genuinely don’t know what I would have done if I saw him.”

Bucky’s mouth forms into the smallest of smiles, and you can’t help but want to burn the world to the ground if it means he was protected from the harm it brought him.

“I know you’re the man, and that, stereotypically, men are supposed to be the protector, the provider, but you also deserve to be protected, to have everything you could ever want. And I want to give that to you. I know you are your own person and you do a damn well job of taking care of yourself, but I also want to take care of you. I want to protect you from everything bad, everything that’s ever harmed you, and everything that could potentially harm you in the future.”

You place a kiss on his forehead, squeezing the arm that’s around his upper back to hug him tighter to you.

“You’re the love of my life, baby. Now and forever.”

Bucky shudders slightly, leaning up to kiss your jaw, then one to your cheek, one on the corner of your mouth, and one final kiss to your lips. Your hand continues to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly, causing your boyfriend to sigh in contentment and tighten his hold on you as well. You’re locked in the embrace for a long moment, his lips gliding over yours as the kiss remains relatively chaste. But then, he pulls away.

“Darling,” He says, and for the first time in two days, he finally looks like he’s getting back to his old self. “I - I don’t think I’m ready to talk about everything that happened during the mission right now, I kind of just want to hear you talk so I can get my mind off of it for a little if that’s okay?” He looks a bit nervous asking for that, but you’re quick to nod, offering him a smile of your own. Bucky smiles a tad bit wider and removes one of his arms from around your body so he can slowly reach up and take hold of your hand that’s still running through his hair. Stubble tickles your palm as Bucky presses his lips there, then turns his gaze up to look into your eyes.

“I can’t even describe how much I love you. It scares me, sometimes, the things I would do for you. I need you to know that I will do everything I can to make you as happy and safe as you make me. You’re just… you’re incredible. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me over the past two years that we’ve been together, even the entire year before we started dating when we were just friends.”

His eyes start watering for a whole other reason now. Bucky looks so damn in love that you’d think it hurt, and you would know because that’s exactly how you feel about him.

“I - I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t even have a ring, but I can’t ever imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I’m devoted to you, now and forever. I don’t know how you feel, but if you’re ever willing to…” He pauses, and you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly, a sudden happiness flooding your body.

“If I were to one day ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”

You’ve never nodded faster in your life, nor have you ever said ‘yes’ so quickly to anything Bucky has asked.

The large sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out lets you know he’s probably been thinking about this for a while, and you would swear your heart is about to burst from how much you love this man as you hold him close to your chest and place absentminded kisses on his forehead, cheeks, lips, the top of his head.

Everything stays silent for a few minutes, letting the conversation taper off. That is, until Bucky puts his head back on your shoulder, lacing his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Can you talk to me?”

Humming in agreement, you run your hand that’s still on his back up and down in a soothing motion.

“Do you want to hear about how Sam almost broke his arm last week?”

[coolnameloading]

Lute x Fem! Reader Part 2

Part 2 of Lute x Sinner Reader story yaaaay

Over the last few months, the hotel has been in what you can only describe as organized chaos. The hotel gained a new resident in Sir Pentious who was a spy for the Vee’s and then wasn’t or something. Charlie reassured you constantly that Pentious was not working for the Vee’s anymore and you had nothing to worry about.

But those sick fucks have been chasing you for longer than any of the other overlords so you’d rather be more safe than sorry. 

After that particular event, you started to feel less safe in the hotel. 

You heard Vox, he tried to infiltrate the only place where you’ve felt safe since you got to the literal hell hole and he tried to send in a fucking spy who Charlie just let walk in instantly after he had attacked the hotel twice.

Who knows what would have happened to you….all of you if Angel Dust hadn’t seen him planting those stupid cameras? 

You love Charlie, she’s nice and she gave you a place to stay. Being mad at her is like being mad at a puppy but all you could keep thinking about for the rest of the month was wondering if Vox saw you.

If the Vee’s know where you are.

If they’ll come looking for you.

What they might do to you if they do catch you.

You had a close call with Velvette one time and one time was enough for the rest of your afterlife. Bitch tried to color-match your fucking fur! You’re pretty sure the only reason you got away was because she was drunk off her British ass.

Vaggie could tell right away that there was something wrong with you and tried to reassure you.

“He didn’t see you Chesh”

She whispered approaching you slowly. 

“You don’t know that boss! What if he did? He could be on his way right now with the other two and he already beat the radio demon once! I need to lea-”

Vaggie cut off your rant by placing her hand on your shoulder gently and pushing you down to sit on the couch.

“Charlie and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We promised when you started staying here that we’d keep you safe and we will. You don’t need to run.”

“Thanks, boss… I’m sorry for freaking out. It just really shook me up, I guess.”

You mumbled out, blushing at how pathetic you sound. 

You may not remember much about your life but you’re pretty sure you died sometime in your 20’s. Yet here you are whimpering pathetically and having to get comforted over a fucking video camera. 

After that incident you became more jumpy, every sound put you on edge, and it was worse whenever you were around any form of technology that didn’t look like it was from before the 1980s.

The others tried their best to calm you down in their own ways. Angel Dust started leaving his phone in his room because you’d flinch every time he got a text or phone call from Valentino. 

“Don’t make a big deal outa it, he was annoying me too.”

Husk would keep your favorite booze on standby at all times, when you’d thank him he’d simply grin at you and say, 

“Us feline demons got to stick together.”

Alastor was happy to throw out any and every piece of technology that would make you tense up even slightly, which included most of Pentious’ weapons and very nearly his airship. 

He obviously wasn’t doing it for you but it still felt nice.

“Don’t worry my friend! I’ll happily get rid of these infernal contraptions! I’ve always believed they lacked class anyway.”

Pentious recognized his part in your new-found anxiety and tried to gain your trust by handing his machines to Alastor with many, many, many tears.

“I am more than happy to…give up my arsenal as an apology for invading your persssssonal boundariessss.” He’d hissed out while trying to hold his tears back.

You couldn’t really be mad at him after that.

Nifty even volunteered to go out and ‘hunt phones’ for you.

You said no but that didn’t stop her from bringing you the….remains of some people’s phones.

 “Sometimes I kill mother phones in front of their children as a warning to the other phones!”

“Niffty phones don’t have mothers.”

“Hehe, not anymore…”

Charlie was actually very happy to see how the others stepped in to help you and she was very proud of them even if their methods were…unorthodox.

But that lead her into a spiral. She was desperately trying to figure out why the hotel wasn’t working even though everybody showed considerable improvement.

This leads to her talking with her dad, which somehow leads to you being here in heaven.

“Um, boss why exactly am I here?”

You ask Vaggie nervously, glancing around at the pastel clouds around you. God you haven’t seen pastels in years.

Vaggie looks over at you and sighs, “Well Charlie figured you wouldn’t want to go out with the others and you wouldn’t like to stay in the hotel alone so this was the best option.”

You nod, understanding her point but on the other hand.

“And the…exorcists?”

Vaggie’s shoulders tense for a moment before she looks away from you and mumbles, “I have a feeling they won’t do anything even if we do run into them.”

You want to ask more questions but decide against it, today was stressful enough as it is without you asking stupid questions. 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You whisper following behind Vaggie and Charlie as they enter the gates of heaven after another fucking song. 

Is it just you? Are you the weird one? Should you be singing more often?

The three of you follow behind the two seraphim, Emily and Sera, while they give you a tour of heaven. Charlie looks completely enamored by the place but Vaggie looks annoyed, as if the pastel clouds had offended her personally.

And you…well honestly you feel a little underwhelmed.

Heaven looks like a glorified mall so far, a mall with strippers because there are way more people walking around shirtless than you thought there would be. 

So you keep trailing behind Vaggie, Charlie, and the angels when you see someone who looks familiar.

She’s a cat demon like you, same color pallet and everything, except she seems much shorter and has a pair of pastel-blue angel wings coming out of her back.

You end up drifting away from the group and start following the small cat angel through the crowds. 

Eventually, you get close enough to reach out and tap her but when you’re about to get her attention you feel a firm hand on your shoulder and you get pulled away roughly and pinned to one of the walls.

You’re completely disoriented for a moment and then you hear a familiar annoying voice.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”

You look up to see Adam and Lute, Adam has a wide smirk on his face and Lute looks….wow.

She’s not wearing her helmet so this time you get to admire her completely.

You’d probably be happier about her pinning you to a wall if she wasn’t also holding a giant spear to your neck.

Then again…-

Yeah, it’s still pretty hot.

[ohdeerfully]

Thank you so much for adding Sir Pentious to your blog 🥹🎩🐍 I’m new to fic requests, and either a drabble or HCs would be amazing no matter which you pick, so here goes…

Could I please request platonic Pentious with a hotel resident reader who’s new to hell and visibly going through a rough time? Between being dead, dealing with their new demon body, and facing another extermination after just surviving the last one, they’re clearly struggling despite putting on a brave face. And secret softie that he is, Pentious decides he ought to intervene, whether it’s drag them along on activities take their mind off of things, or just stick with them until they open up enough to vent to him?

Thank you very much again!

Signed 🪼 Anon

Hii 🪼! Thanks so much for requesting my very first Sir Pentious oneshot >:3 I hope i wrote him okay! I don't know his character super well, but he's super fun!!!

Do His Egg Bois Know He Eats Egg Sandwiches

Sir Pentious x Reader (platonic)(fluff) TW: reader is depressed ):

join my discord!

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You had been at the hotel for a year or so now, having been found by Charlie during your first night in Hell. Ever since then, even in the comfort of the hotel and surrounded by the kindness–and chaos–of Charlie and her friends, you still couldn’t really believe or cope with where you were. Thinking about it, and the fact this was eternity–it made you feel like shit. And that goddamn tail of yours that kept getting in the way of everything, and the pair of hypersensitive ears that forced you to listen to the “screams of the damned” all night. You wondered if you’d ever get used to the new limbs. 

You currently laid flat on your bed and staring at the ceiling, not really thinking about much in particular. Honestly, the boredom you currently felt was comforting; better than the depressive episodes you’ve been dealing with, at least. It has gotten worse lately because of the impending extermination, but you took care not to think about it too much, less you choke and breakdown in anxiety.

A neat rapping of knocks roused you from your mindless comfort, and you slunk your way to the door. Before opening it, you made sure that your appearance was as neat as possible. You heaved a breath, smiled, and opened the door.

Sir Pentious stood on the other side, his sharp fangs peeking under his lips in a bold smile. “Charlie hass asked me to…” You smiled slightly at that appropriately snake-like lisp of his. “...take you out in town! For some… fun,” His bold smile slowly quivered, becoming more and more uncertain and anxious as his invitation became quiet, nearly dying on his lips. His hands were nervously folded behind himself.

You quirked your brow at him, leaning softly on the doorframe. “Why would Charlie ask you to take me out?” You replied, not intentionally aggressive, “Wouldn’t she usually just… do it herself? Or at least tell me first?” You noticed the way Sir Pentious nervously flicked his tongue a few times as he considered your words.

“Well… I… er,” He struggled for a moment, until suddenly his eyes lit up with an idea. “Well, Charlie wass, and I wass going to take EVERYBODY out! But, eh, they’re all busy.” His head tucked slightly, sheepishly, and you watched as the hood on his neck seemed to squeeze closer to himself. He was so obvious.

You ran your hand through your hair, thinking for a moment. Sir Pentious stared at you expectantly, with a mix of anxiety and excitement in his narrow eyes.

You could either stay inside, locked in your room, waiting for nothing, melting in your own depressive thoughts and worries; or, you could just go out and try to have some fun with the snake standing in front of you. You haven’t been out in town much, despite being in Hell for a year–you were always too worried. You didn’t have the energy to go out in the first place, so the anxiety you felt made it all the more difficult to drag yourself out of bed to explore.

Ah, what the hell.

“Sure,” You accepted, albeit a bit apprehensively. His spine immediately straightened out as you accepted his offer, his eyes practically glowing with pride at himself. He gave you a curt nod, a grin, and turned to slither away.

“Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutess!” He called, before disappearing around a corner.

And, so, you did. You had quickly washed yourself, and scrounged around your dirty laundry to find a decently clean outfit, making note that you should get to work on washing everything when you got back. Hopefully this outing would give you a bit of energy to do some chores.

He was waiting by the bar, his fingers rapping against the countertop. He was obviously trying to be patient; you knew he had a temper. You appreciate him trying, though.

“So,” You began as you came near him. He whipped his head around when he heard your voice. “What’s your idea of… fun?”

“Follow me!” He declared boldly, ushering the both of you out of the hotel. You saw his airship was ready to go, a small ramp leading to the entrance. You nervously smiled at the sight, wondering what he had in store for you. You briefly wondered how Charlie would react knowing Sir Pentious was, very likely, up to no good.

Those eggs of his were already waiting inside, as you saw one peek around the frame of the door. It jumped at the sight of Sir Pentious ascending the ramp, skittering away before coming back with the others. They all watched from the doorway.

Your worries of Charlie were dispelled when Sir Pentious explained that he wanted to go to a strip of stores a few blocks away. You decided not to ask him why he chose to take his airship to just go a few blocks away; he seemed very excited to show off the interior to you, explaining what this button did, and oh, did you notice this lever? Just wait till you see what this knob does! You were genuinely surprised at how complex his build was. Sir Pentious was a lot smarter than everybody gave him credit for.

His eggs were always in your way, and you had to take extreme care not to stumble over or smash one. They were always getting up close to you in order to examine you, or touch your clothes. You were growing irritated at them, honestly, but clenched your jaw to ignore the growing frustration.

It had taken a short time to get to the street, and Sir Pentious ‘parked’ his airship in the air, hanging down a sturdy ladder for the two of you to descend onto the street. You stared down nervously, air whipping at your face.

“Sir Pentious… I don’t think…” You timidly looked down, and then back up to him. He stood there proudly, hands on his hips. He frowned at your apprehension.

“Nonsense!” And he shoved you, his toothy grin quickly disappearing from your vision as you staggered out of the opening below. 

“What the fuck!” You cried, tumbling for a brief moment in the air, your tail whipping wildly to try to straighten yourself out. You were able to grab a rung of the ladder, probably just a few seconds away from smacking into the road. Your heart was beating so hard you were worried it would give out.

“What. The fuck.” You said again, venom practically dripping from your words as you glared at Sir Pentious, who was easily using his two arms to make his way down, tail curled on the ladder for extra stability. If you could kill him with your eyes, you would. 

You continued the last few rungs, arms shaking so hard with adrenaline that you had to make a few attempts to grab the rope with every step.

“Now,” Sir Pentious began, looking around after you were both firmly on the ground. “I believe there iss… some sort of place for foodstuff. There!” And he quickly left you behind after eyeing the shop. You quickly followed when he paused to wave you forward.

It was a pretty standard lunch spot, with the standard Hell foods that you saw for sale in the hotel’s own cafeteria. You ignored the description of the food, knowing that if you thought too hard about what the meat was made out of you would be too sick to eat. Food was another thing in Hell that you just couldn’t get used to.

Sir Pentious ordered some sort of egg sandwich with a soda, and you opted for a salad of sorts with some mystery meat and a colorful array of toppings. You tucked yourself neatly into a chair, poking at the contents of your bowl for a minute before trying it. It really wasn’t that bad.

Sir Pentious was tentatively sipping at his soda, his tiny nostrils flaring at each intake of the carbonated drink. You saw the level of soda go down, up, down again, up again, as he tried desperately to keep the drink in his mouth.

“Do you… not like soda?” You asked behind a laugh. He put on a face of shock at you.

“Of coursse I do! Everybody drinks it! How weird it would be if I couldn’t!” He went back to daintily dragging at the straw. You saw the up and down of the drink continue. You rolled your eyes at his attempt to seem hip. It really wasn’t that serious.

You had ordered some tea, and you pushed the glass towards him.

“Wanna trade?” You asked, and his eyes lit up. “I like soda more than tea.”

“Yess!” He said, a bit too excited for his own taste, obviously, because he immediately lowered his voice. “Of course, only for you. I don’t care either way. But ssince you do,” He swiped at your glass, quickly replacing it with his soda. You honestly weren’t really interested in drinking it, knowing that a lot of it had already been in his mouth and spit back.

After you had both finished, a bit of casual small talk between bites, Sir Pentious paid, to which you thanked him multiple times for, and he simply stuck his nose up and dismissed you, saying it was his responsibility for being the one to offer to take you out.

You actually enjoyed your time with him, which surprised you, because you never thought you’d enjoy the company of the temperamental snake. But, you could tell he tried his best to remain level-headed with you. You wondered if he knew how shitty you’ve been feeling.

When you arrived back at the hotel, you were incredibly thrilled that Sir Pentious was able to park his airship on the ground. No more getting shoved out of tiny holes from the sky. You saw Charlie carefully eyeing the two of you as you came inside, her focus mostly on a conversation with Vaggie. She was likely trying to see if there were any signs of “bad behavior” coming back into her hotel.

Sir Pentious  leads you back to your room, rambling about some invention of his, his words dripping with pride. You were only half listening while you fumbled for the keys to your room.

His words stopped for a moment when you opened the door, and you could tell he was looking at the terrible disarray your room had come to during your periods of doing nothing during depressive episodes. You let out a nervous laugh, closing the door just enough for you to block his line of sight as you leaned against the door.

“Hey, thanks for taking me to get some food,” You smiled at him, and he returned your smile with his own. You could tell there was a softness in his expression, and you kind of hated it, knowing that it was probably coming from a place of pity after seeing the state of your room.

“You know, if you ever need somebody to talk to, I conssider myself a great listener,” He began, and you felt weird hearing the softness and genuineness of his voice. Though you weren’t to sure about the ‘great listener’ part. “Of course I offer my earss to everybody here!” He quickly added, trying to prevent himself from sounding too touchy-feely. You grinned at him and shot him a quick thumbs up.

“Thanks, Pentious,” You backed up into your room, giving him a short wave. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He waved back at you, giving you that fanged grin of his, before you shut the door. You turned on your heel, and stared at the mess you called a room.

Time to do some cleaning, I guess.

[astheforcewillsit]

Title: Rest Stop (ao3 link)

Summary:

Five years after the Clone Wars, the Jedi are being hunted. Obi-Wan and Cody try to navigate what that means for them. or Quinlan Vos goes missing, and Obi-Wan rescues him with some difficulty. They recover in a clone colony, and uncomfortable conversations are had.

"What do you mean there are people after you. Who is after you? Who did this to you."

Cody interrogates him in rapid succession. Without pause, words flow freely from his mouth as if he is commanding a platoon on the battlefield.

His voice rising at every syllable as anxiety seizes him.

It is uncharacteristic of the former commander's usual collected approach to disaster. Especially when that disaster is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Though Obi-Wan cannot blame him. It has been two months since he last made contact with Cody, and even longer since he visited the clone colony.

Now he's returned looking worse than a walking bruise.

And in that time he had missed much.

New buildings have been added to this particular colony. Spring has settled upon it, and new life sings in the Force. The tension that engulfed the clones during the war has all but dissipated.

Cody's home has grown too. Both physically and in the Force.

The kitchen--now a temporary medbay-colorful and large. There are more dishes than there were last time. Baking trays, cookie sheets. Colorful utensils. The cabinets are the burnt yellow of the 212th, and there is an apron hanging on a door hook. The faint smell of spice hangs in the air. And the Force shows him a memory of laughing children, eagerly eating away at sweets that must have been put out on this very table hours ago. A table that Obi-Wan now sits at. A table his blood has stained.

He tries not to think about what the Republic says about the Jedi, now. How they ruin everything they touch.

He's brought back to present as a bacta patch is applied to his arms. His sleeves have been sliced off (he'll have to make a new tunic when he's able to), and the cool air burns at his open wounds.

The young medic--a kid really, Threads, curses loudly. He's doing what he can, but he never served under a general or in the war. He hangs around Cody because he looks up to him, but stopped his training when the clones got their rights.

He just happened to be the closest Cody could grab while the other went to flag down an actual doctor.

"I apologize, Threads. I'm sure you believed you escaped the horrors of war." "How on Earth did you get metal shards in your arm, Master?" He mutters, gaze focused in morbid curiosity. He pulls out sharp pieces of metal, and lets them clatter on the ground beside him, "And no worries. This kinda makes me want to actually go back to my studies as a doctor. But it would help to know what happened."

The past few days have absolutely horrendous, that's what.

Though now beside Cody, the adrenaline begins it's exit from Obi-Wan's system as it registers he is safe. Finally safe.

And with the adrenaline gone, the pain begins to collect its toll. He aches. Badly. Though for now he can use the Force to will the pain to numbness. His head is full of lead, his eyes carrying the weight of the world. He just wants to sleep. And strangely, Cody is the perfect pillow. He leans forward in his chair, and let's his head fall onto clone's stomach. Force, he could stay here in this chair for ever, face buried in the soft fabric of Cody's clothing.

"Obi-Wan, what the kriff happened?" It's more of an exasperated sigh, a breathless question as Cody runs his finger's through the Jedi's hair.

With great effort, Obi-Wan turns his head to the side, gaze landing on the cause of his current predicament.

Quinlan Vos has managed to push himself into a corner, avoiding Fox's touch like it's Force Lightening.

Quinlan, who is his own trembling mess of bloodied robes. Kiffar blood is so bright, disturbingly bright.

Sometimes Obi-Wan forgets Quinlan isn't human.

They'll need to clean the kitchen floor after this. Fox hovers over him, hands hesitantly raised above his Jedi, as if touching him will do more damage than has already been done to him. Contrary to his brother though, Fox has managed to keep himself relatively collected.

He only jumped when Quinlan used to Force to push himself into the corner.

It scared all of them, even Obi-Wan.

The adrenaline has finally run it's course. His body reminds him of the full extent of his injuries, relays the injuries to him as the medic continues to tend to him.

Obi-Wan's head throbs. Ribs ache. His arms burn from where molten metal painted his skin as he tried to deflect solid shrapnel.

And now, recognizing it's own bloodless state, his body begins to shake.

He needs to tell them what happened, at least as much as he's allowed. They've let him bleed all over their pretty floor. They've dealt with Quinlan who's fallen--again.

He closes he's eyes and speaks.

"There are people after the entire Order, Cody. Jedi...they've--we've been disappearing since the war ended. We thought it was the normal disappearance--" Waxer snorts. Clearly, he's frustrated. Obi-Wan didn't even know he was there. His control of the Force is wanning.

"What are normal disappearances? When is that a normal thing?" Cody articulates what Waxer couldn't. Because what the kriff? Normal disappearances?

"We thought they may have been bounty hunters. It wasn't uncommon for us to be targeted before the Clone Wars. " He grimaces in pain, turning his head back into Cody's stomach.

He stays there for a moment, and breathes in all that Cody is. Feels his solid muscles past his shirt, feels the warmth radiating off of his body.

It's grounding.

"But when Jedi Master's started disappearing," he continues, muffled, "powerful ones, we started taking notice. We started realizing we were being picked off. One by one. And with each one of them gone, there'd be a Dark Side user--who used their same skills, same fighting style. It didn't take us long to put together what was happening." Unease reverberates throughout the small kitchen. The light shines above them, dim as it buzzes. It doesn't reach Vos, who is shrouded in darkness that was not there before.

Those who know Jedi personally no doubt recount the last line of communication had with them. Wolffe leans against the wall, index finger nervously tapping his inner arm.

Threads lifts his head from where he kneels beside Obi-Wan, fingers red with blood.

It doesn't take a lot of brain power to guess who the strongest amongst the Jedi are. And what the implications of this means.

"Quinlan went missing a month ago, I volunteered myself to go after him. And when I found him--he attacked me, not of his own doing." Obi-Wan assures, "And whoever did this to him attacked me as well. But not with blasters, with bullets. They knew how to kill us."

That tastes like bile on his mouth.

Confirming it amongst the Jedi had been one thing, but admitting it to the clones? That they were being kidnapped and turned against one another? That is another thing. That makes it real.

Fox has managed to close the space between he and Quinlan, who looks worse off than they've ever seen. In the small moment that he and Obi-Wan looked at each other, he could have sworn Quin's eyes were gold. What corner was he pushed against to lean into the Dark Side? What agony did these monsters put him through for him to fall and attack Obi-Wan.

Not that it matters now. His face is mostly obscured from view by the tangle of his locs, eyes screwed shut as his fingers twist into his roots. They all watch watch as Fox's fingers unweave Quinlan's own from his hair, cooing him gently.

"Quinlan, you're going to hurt yourself." He seems to calm when his finger's find Fox's. Cody knows a bit about what Quinlan can do. And well, Fox has spent the past three hours baking cakes for the little ones--clones and natborns alike--singing with them in ways that Palpatine's toy solider never would have five years ago.

Cody hopes those hands give Quinlan some peace. And with the way Fox hauls him to his feet, he thinks that maybe they have. The shaking stops, at least. Though he's hunched over like he's in pain.

His hair still obscures most of his body.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Obi-Wan hisses as Threads resumes his treatment.

It's a question that the Order grappled with.

"Because we are not your responsibility. Because we will not drag you all into another fight." The conviction is not as strong as Obi-Wan would have liked it to be, but he means it.

The decision was unanimous. They would not involve the clones.

"Obi-Wan, where is Master Plo?" Wolffe cuts through the bullshit, his voice is on edge in a way that means he's concerned. Very concerned. Obi-wan hadn't noticed him either. He wonders how many clones are filtering into this small rest stop.

"I--Commander Wolffe, it has been some time since I have--"

He doesn't get to finish explaining to him what has transpired. Wolffe peels himself off of the wall, and walks out of the kitchen.

"Cody, I'm taking Quinlan with me upstairs." Cody's eyes follow the retreating form of his brother, and with effort he pulls Quinlan close to him. Quinlan trips over his feet, making a considerable effort to keep up with Fox, " Somethings...not right. I've commed our medic. Sorry Threads, but I need an expert."

Cody nods curtly, turning his attention back to Obi-Wan. "Fox," Obi-wan calls out, weakly as the commander hauls Quinlan away, "he fought so very hard." "I know," now Fox's voice breaks. He sounds small, like he's struggling to hold himself together, "I know he did."

Still, Obi-Wan paints a clear picture, "It was not like last time, he did not want to hurt me. It was like--" "Like the inhibitor chips?" Rex has made his way into the kitchen, Obi-Wan's arrival gaining more attention. He moves to let Fox and Quinlan leave, placing a comforting hand on Fox as he does so.

"Yes, but when I managed to draw him away from the place he was at, whatever influence was on him released him. But clearly, it is still tormenting his mind. It was unfortunately almost impossible to reason with him when he was in that place."

The Jedi are being hunted. And they were are being turned against each other.

Part of Cody's world ripples at that realization. Happiness seems to be eternally just out of reach, it's sweet embracing kissing the tips of his fingers.

Teasing him. Weren't they supposed to live together? Didn't Obi-Wan talk about taking on a clone padawan? If Obi-Wan, who Cody surmises is concussed, wasn't burrowing his head into the clone's stomach, Cody would be sitting right beside him.

But somehow he always ends up holding Obi-Wan up. Today, he wishes he didn't have to. He hardly has the strength.

"You know, we get to chose when to fight too, Obi-Wan. If you're all being killed, we deserve to know. Our brothers didn't die so you could all die five years later." He manages, "Believe it or not, some of us will choose to stand with you."

For Obi-Wan's part, he's unsure of how to take the statement.

He's not sure how much of Cody wants to fight for him, or how much a decade of conditioning by the Kaminoans has told him--all of them that they have to.

"The Republic has people that will protect us--" Cody's temper flairs in the Force. Obi-Wan groans.

"You think natborns give a kriff about the Jedi? The Republic still doesn't trust you after the disaster of the Clone Wars. We're the only ones who can keep you all safe. We were made for you."

Cody catches himself too late. And collective, the clones hold their breaths. The silence is louder than it should be. Cody finger's still in Obi-Wan's hair.

When Obi-Wan was a young Jedi, newly made master to an even younger Anakin Skywalker, he enjoyed watching as his way with words often tripped Anakin up.

How the boy's head first personality would almost always end up a lesson of how not to approach the Jedi Way.

It was as if their entire apprenticeship consisted of Anakin proving Obi-Wan right, walking into a trap--be it physical or verbal.

I told you this would happen, Anakin.

If only you'd listen to me.

And now, Anakin, you have proven my point. Again.

He remembered the satisfaction that would fill him as he watched Anakin fulfill his own prophecy. Watch him enact the irony that Obi-Wan had warned him of.

Yet, He feels numbness as Cody does the same.

"And that is the problem, Cody." Obi-Wan smiles sadly through the fabric, slowly lifting his head to captures the clone's eyes, "you never should have been.

And yet, like Anakin, Cody continues to talk--argue. To reason.

Let us help you, it won't be like last time. Please.

Though at a point Obi-Wan stops listening, and simply feels Cody's presence.

Threads says something about a concussion, and suddenly, Obi-Wan's world gets a bit darker. Still, he loses himself in Cody's presence.

It's enough to eventually put him to sleep. He will worry about the world attacking his Order--his family--later. For now, he allows himself to succumb to the rest that Cody's very being has provided.

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

It takes him far too long to get a hold of himself. Even once Nakai-san had come to let him know he was allowed back in Shinji’s room, it hasn’t been any less of a struggle. 

Every time he starts to think he’s managed to get his head above water, another wave goes crashing over him and he’s swamped again, overcome.

Shinji would have a field day, seeing him like this. He’d never let Akihiko live it down.

Even that thought makes his throat tighten all over again. Shinji’s still around to poke and prod at him for being so sentimental. 

God, what a stupid thing to get so emotional about.

He knows he shouldn’t be like this; if he lets himself get carried too high by hope, he’ll have that much further to fall if it gets shot out from under him. Just because Shinji woke up once doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods. There’s still a million things that could go wrong, or get worse, or…

Akihiko grips at his hair and tugs a little. He really doesn’t want to think about any of those hypothetical disasters. Is there really something wrong with being relieved in the moment? After all the anxiety he’s been forced to shoulder over the past two weeks, he has to have earned the privilege, right? 

That’s what he tells himself, at least. Now if only the rest of him would cooperate. His body is still buzzing with a surge of adrenaline that refuses to ebb. The buildup of restless energy pricks and stings like he’s got nettles growing under his skin.

Mitsuru’s arrival with the juniors (half of the juniors, at least– he makes a note to ask about that) in tow offers him a reprieve from his little mental purgatory at last.

“How is he?” Mitsuru asks immediately. Akihiko can tell that she’s attempting to look and sound completely collected, but he’d be able to hear the fragile note in her voice even if he couldn’t see the haloes of red around her eyes. Finding him standing in the hall just outside the door to Shinji’s room, instead of inside and attached to his bedside like a magnet, probably didn’t lend itself to many optimistic interpretations.

“He’s asleep right now. Normal sleep this time, he didn’t–” He clears his throat. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he’s reluctant to speak the alternative out loud. “The way Nakai-san explained it to me, even though he’s been unconscious all this time, his body was still burning through a lot of energy trying to heal, so– it’s no wonder he’s exhausted. He was already out like a light before they’d finished examining him, they said.”

“It would be better to let him rest, then.” Mitsuru nods with poised understanding, but Akihiko catches the smothered traces of disappointment under the relief in her eyes. She had to have been hoping for the chance to speak with Shinji, or at least speak to him and know for sure that he could hear her.

“May– may we still come in and see him?” Yamagishi asks, her hands clasped formally in front of her. “As long as we’re quiet?”

“Yeah, of course,” Akihiko says. “And if he wakes up on his own before visiting hours end, we might still get to talk to him.” He looks at Mitsuru in particular as he says this. She smiles gently, gratefully. 

Yamagishi, Takeba, and Aigis all look elated by the idea as well. A comfortable warmth blooms in his chest to see it. He’s known that the juniors looked up to Shinji more or less since he had re-joined S.E.E.S (even longer than that in the case of Arisato, Takeba, and Junpei, who had all continued to enthuse to each other about how Shinji had come to their rescue in June for days after the fact), but to see so clearly how much they care about him–

Shinji had tried to remain aloof and keep everyone at arm’s length, and Akihiko has never been so pleased to see someone fail. Despite his best efforts, the juniors still saw through him, saw the person that Akihiko and Mitsuru know: the one who makes such an effort to hide his kindness but never withholds it; who watches out for people as not just a matter of habit, but reflex. 

He’s always been that way. Akihiko is so, so glad that the younger members of the team can see it too. Back when they were kids, there had been precious few people that saw Shinji’s good points– who’d even bothered to look… It had basically only been Akihiko himself and Miki, and a couple of matrons at the orphanage, and then eventually Mitsuru as well.

Now he’s got a whole slew of people who know  him. Who care about him. Shinji deserves that.

Whether he believes it or not.

Akihiko holds the door open and the juniors file into Shinji’s room in silence, with Mitsuru taking up the rear. As she passes, she catches his eye and flashes another brief smile, and he can tell that she’s following the same train of thought as him. 

“Is anyone else on the way?” Akihiko whispers to her– by which he means, ‘is Junpei on the way?’ He wouldn’t expect or ask Amada to be prepared to see Shinji on such short notice, and it hasn’t escaped Akihiko’s notice that Arisato has never come by either. He refuses to judge either of them for it. He gets it. He knows.

He’d be a hypocrite if he said anything.

Mitsuru nods and lingers near Akihiko as he closes the door most of the way, leaving just about a centimeter’s gap. “Iori and Arisato volunteered to escort Amada to the hospital,” she replies. “They should be en route to meet us here by now.”

Akihiko hums an acknowledgement. Does that mean Arisato will actually be here? As far as surprises go, he’s grateful that this is a pleasant one for a change.

Shinji’s right where he left him when he turns his attention back to the bed; soundly asleep despite the juniors crowding around him. He breathes in a slow, even rhythm.

“I’m so glad…” Yamagishi hiccups, dabbing at her eyes with a pink handkerchief. Takeba must have lent it to her, judging by the color. Aigis pats her shoulder, earning a wobbly smile.

“It’s really incredible how much better he looks now without the mask.” Takeba murmurs. Akihiko definitely agrees. 

Along with the oxygen mask, most of the wires and tubes have been detached; the reduced number of IV drips he's on now means that only one of the needles is needed anymore, and the monitoring equipment has been reduced to just the heart monitor and oximeter. It all makes it so much easier to believe that Shinji’s really back– that he’s really only sleeping and not trapped in limbo, beyond their reach.

Arisato does indeed make an appearance, trailing behind Junpei and looking pale and antsy, with Amada trailing behind him in turn. Seeing Shinji for himself seems to bring most of Arisato’s color back almost immediately. 

They all stay for as long as they can, quietly chatting as they wait to see if Shinji will wake up. Takeba has to shush Junpei several times, but there’s never any real bite to it. Even a rivalry like theirs– one that’s nearly a match for Shinji’s and his own (though it does favor entirely verbal needling over actual brawling)– takes a back seat to relief. Amada hovers behind the loose perimeter formed by the rest of the team and says almost nothing, but his reassurance that he’s alright when Akihiko checks in with him seems entirely sincere.

Visiting hours end, and Shinji remains asleep. Akihiko stamps down his impatience. He’ll get the chance to visit again by tomorrow, and he’ll stay as long as he has to. There’s…a lot that needs to be said, after all.

[soupsysoup]

Kwazii Head canons!! Not the best drawing, but the one I was gonna use originally looked like a fucking cheeto and did not look like Kwazii, sooo-, yeah.

Headcanons!!

-Trans Aro/Ace

-He/him

-Has ADHD and Dyslexia. I mean, look at him, I doubt I need to say more

-The hole in his ear is a ripped piercing

-Him and Inkling like to place random bets during their ping pong matches. Like trading out chores or taking over the other's chore as well as their own.

-Gup B is his comfort gup and misses it quite a bit when he's out and about with his Grand-dad

-Like Cali, his eye has a light sensitivity. It's genetic. It's not bc of the eye patch. Other than that, his eye works fine, however, his vision is getting worse in that eye, so-

-Sings sea shanties with Captain Barnacles. Him and Barnacles listen to Fish in a Birdcage. One album in particular that I haven't rlly bothered to find the name of, lol

-Has tried to learn an instrument, but fails every time, and gives up too easily

-Him and Barnacles actually bumped heads a few times when he was training to be an Octonaut (Yes, there's training to be one, and he just barely passed, it's a fucking miracle)

-In his Pirate days, the only he was widely known for was that he was Calico's grandson, so that put a huge target on his back.

-His parents died, but he was raised by Calico Jack when he was just a kitten, but after Cali left, the crew raised him.

-the crew that raised him told him so many stories abt Calico's daring feats and what not. As well as "monster" stories

-Very active imagination. Gives him anxiety

-Amazing artist. Him and Shellington draw together and Barnacles joins sometimes. It's just a quiet thing that they all do together. Tweak also joins in on occasion. They're just sitting in silence, drawing, maybe listening to music. It's one of the only times you'll ever see Kwazii focus so hard for so long

-If he's ever focused on something and you disrupt him, he isn't rlly happy abt it bc him focusing on something is abt as rare as a blue moon

-Bounces his leg and swishes his tail when fidgeting

-Is never truly still, even when he's asleep, he's always moving around.

-Boops the crew on occasion for no real reason (Especially Peso, Barnacles, and Shellington. Emphasis on Peso and Barnacles. Extra emphasis on Peso)

-Protective over Peso

-Yeow is 100% a vocal stim that he's been using since he was just a kitten. He got it from his grand dad

-Prior to adventuring to the Amazon, he was 99% sure his granddad was dead, but he somehow felt, deep in his bones, that Cali was still alive somewhere.

-Cried while holding a picture of Calico Jack after the Amazon episode. He actually started writing to him as much as he could.

-Got his sword skills (and possibly drawing skills) from his grand dad

-Used to follow Cali around, mimicking everything he did/said. Annoyed him at first, but grew to actually love him for it bc he realized that he was this kid's role model and I think that's sweet as hell

-After he decided to get his own ship, he realized how lonely he was. He discovered that Cali's old crew disbanded after he left, and would love to find them, but there's no traces of them left...maybe they're dead...or alive...we may never know...

-Gold tooth, like his grand dad. He probably got into a fight with someone and got the tooth punched right out of his mouth.

-Didn't get a proper gold tooth, till Peso gave him one, when he first joined.

-Last one to join the Octonauts

-Like his grand dad, he likes to curl up into a ball when sleeping

-Cuddle bug for life

-Has an older brother bond to Peso and uses the stories to scare him

-Him and Peso occasionally fight like actual siblings, but get along most of the time

-Was not the most cooperative person when he first joined. In fact, he was a little on edge and hostile to the group, but now, they're literally his family

-He cusses like crazy, but stopped bc Peso doesn't like cussing and Barnacles says it's kind of important to stay at least somewhat professional at all times

-Cannot handle any type of cold, what so ever. His room is a fucking Sauna, it's crazy

-Calico Jack was his ultimate transition goal when he was first transitioning.

-He's actually quite strong and it is totally bc of all the swimming he does on the job

-Part Carribean and Part Asian, but he grew up all over the place

[idaredivel]

Yet again another short short fanfic for this little series, and honestly i think this one is gonna be the wrap (if i can't think a version for Mihawk, of course, but i doubt it)

This one i did try to beta it because it has a more serious note, since Shanks is having an attack (panic or anxiety, i leave it up for you to decide because i based it on what mines feels like). That said, the way Shanks calms down here may not be how someone else does (the way Mihawk helps him sure doesn't work for me, funnily enough! so take it with a grain of salt if it's not yours either)

Lastly: Thanks to everyone who read this series and liked it, it means more to me that you could ever imagine :)!

(Translation of final words: Mi amor-My love / Ástkær-My dear love)

Good night

He was beside Buggy, running down the street leading to the port, the Oro Jackson's sails a flash as they went as quickly as they could.

He was so happy to see everyone again, Captain specially, fearing that his condition got worse in the time the crew were away and, uncharacteristically, expecting the worst.

And

He met Roger with a smile, asking if everything went well, if they found it.

And

He got a laugh, a laugh that descended much more quickly than what Roger used to do. But he complied and answered some things.

And

Then Captain went silent for a second, just a second.

And told him—

Shanks didn't wake violently, even if he was pulled out of the dream—the memory—abruptly. A merciful thing. It had been a while since that particular one resurfaced, but it wasn't a rare flash from the past that his mind chosed to recall.

His brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton and because of this it was a second too late that he noticed he was having an attack. His throat closed making it difficult to breath, dizziness surrounded him and if his eyes were open, Shanks knew his vision would be full of black spots. He still tried to reel himself back from it, but it was getting more and more difficult by the second.

Then

He faintly felt his arm being raised and pressed against something, a steady rythm below his palm. The next thing he registered was his face being caressed with tenderness. A voice then reached his ears talking in whispers—no, not whispers, that was his hearing not working as it should—but nevertheless Shanks recognized it's tone and pitch, and it was trying to hide it, no doubt for Shanks' own sake, but it was laced with worry.

With strength he didn't think he had that moment, he forced himself to open his eyelids, the half-blurred image of his lover coming into view. Focusing on trying to see him better—five things, he remembered, so he counted his eyes, his nose, his lips and more or less his hair and beard—he started to make out the words being said to him too.

“Th..s it, ... focus ... m.. br..ath” Oh, that's right, he needed to regulate his breathing. He followed the best he could how his lover's chest expanded and contracted, trying to match his own to the movements. “Ther.. you go”.

Shanks didn't know how much time passed but the moment he got his eyesight back and his air intake mostly under control, his sole focus shifted to the sensations running through his skin. It felt like a hundred needles were poking him, making his body kind of numb but sensitive at the same time and while it was uncomfortable, he could manage.

His tired dark reds shifted up to meet worried liquid suns. “Mi...” Shanks sighed, just now noticing how dry his mouth was. Mihawk did too, apparently, because he—with a delicacy he only showed when tending to his blades—sat Shanks up, the master swordman's body supporting the emperor's, before a glass of water was offered to the latter's lips.

Drink finished and glass put away, Mihawk moved them so they were comfortable, grasping Shanks' hand again with his left and right arm hugging the younger to him so the captain's head rested between his own and his shoulder.

They stayed in silence, Shanks being grounded by Mihawk's touch until the last of pin pricks were mere afterthougts.

Then Shanks talked.

“Am sorry”. That gained the red-head a squeeze in his shoulder and a reproaching glare that he could feel even without looking, followed by: “Do not apologize for things that are out of your control”.

Then, much more kindly, Shanks' face was raised so he could lock eyes with the other's. “It's of no bother to me to help you with this, you know it already”.

A smile unusually small seized Shanks' mouth, lethargy making it's way in his body now that he was calm. “Yeah... Yeah, I know”. A chaste kiss was given. “Thanks”.

A yawn scaped from Shanks, energy completely drained but unwilling to go back to sleep, subsconsciously fearing whatever memory could pop up this time around.

“I'll be here”.

“Hm...?”

“Whatever happens next, whatever dream you have, I'll be here for you”. After clarifying, Mihawk made them lay down, positions reversed from when they first went to sleep because now it was Shanks laying half-atop of him. “So don't fret and rest, dear”.

Warm settles in Shanks' chest, internally reprimanding himself for forgetting how gentle Mihawk got with him when these attacks happened. Like this, he figured he had nothing to fear.

He sighed, happy, then said: “Good night, ástkær”.

The last thing Shanks felt was a soft kiss to his head.

And, finally: “Good night, mi amor”.

[666writingcafe]

Barbatos' Birthday Surprise (Part Four)

August 22

To say that I'm nervous would be an understatement. I don't know if I've ever fretted this much over what I was going to pack for a weekend away in my entire life. Of course, some of my anxiety has probably been ramped up by Asmo, who's been hovering all week and believing that I need his input, but that doesn't explain all of it.

The truth is, I don't want to disappoint or embarrass Barbatos. I know what Satan said about him acting differently at metal concerts, but he only got that information from other people. For all I know, they may have been lying, and Barbatos actually remains subdued, and I really cannot afford to look like a fool in front of him. It may be a weekend away, but both of us still have reputations we have to uphold.

"MC." Lucifer's voice snaps me out of my mental spiraling. "Barbatos just told me he was on his way to pick you up. I think it might be best if you head downstairs so that you're ready when he arrives. I'll carry your suitcase."

"Lucifer?" I ask as he steps inside my room and grabs the suitcase handle. "Do you think I've made a mistake?"

"Regarding this particular trip, no. Being away from all this for a few days will benefit both of you." He begins walking away, but then pauses and turns back around. "It might comfort you to know that Barbatos has been talking to me about this trip pretty much nonstop since you gave him his early birthday present. I've not seen him this excited about something since the last Three Realm Tea Exposition, and that was centuries ago." Lucifer pauses. "Of course, it may have less to do with the concert itself and more to do with the fact that he gets to spend uninterrupted time with you. He's grown rather fond of you."

~~~

"Nice car." These are the first words that come out of my mouth as soon as I'm alone outside with Barbatos. While part of me wishes I could have been more eloquent in that moment, the car truly shocked me. I never would have expected him to show up in a sleek black convertible, let alone one that looks straight out of the 1950s.

"It was gifted to me many years ago by a human sorcerer," Barbatos replies as he opens the passenger door for me. Once we're both in the car, he adds,

"Before you ask, no, it wasn't Solomon. His gifts are far less tasteful." I snort in amusement. "I'm glad someone finds that funny."

"Was I not supposed to?"

"You're fine, MC. Don't think I took offense, because I didn't. I'm just over Solomon's so-called presents." He starts the car and begins driving away from the House. "One time, he got me a taxidermied rat for Christmas."

"Okay, that's messed up. If I know that you despise rats, then Solomon most definitely should."

"It was dressed up as a butler. At least, that's what he told me. It's not like I studied the damn thing. I ended up chucking it in the fireplace as soon as I realized what it was."

"That must have upset Solomon, assuming that you threw it in front of him."

"Oh, it upset him, alright. He wouldn't talk to me for a few days."

"Serves him right. I mean, what was he expecting you to do, turn cartwheels over the idea of having a beady-eyed rat staring at you?" I glimpse a faint smile on Barbato's lips.

"Believe it or not, some of Solomon's friends thought I was overreacting."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. His behavior gets worse when he spends time with shady people."

"Which accounts for basically everyone he chooses as company. In fact, I'm a little surprised he likes you as much as he does." Okay...did not expect that.

"Really?"

"It's not a knock against you. Quite the opposite, actually. You have a strong moral compass. He doesn't." He pauses as we reach a red stoplight. Once it turns green, he resumes speaking.

"I don't want you to get the wrong impression of Solomon. At the end of the day, he's more often on the side of good than evil. However, he can be easily influenced into causing chaos, which gets him in a lot of trouble."

"Like Mammon?"

"Yes and no. Mammon doesn't always think before he acts. Solomon does."

"I see." I really did not anticipate him revealing this much information. I thought we'd just talk about our trip and maybe get to know each other a little bit, but this...this is new. I don't want to make Barbatos uncomfortable, but at the same time I like this candid side of him. It makes him more relatable. Softer, even.

"Anyway, the point is, I thought that Solomon would take advantage of you being his apprentice, but he seems genuinely interested in teaching you, which is good for him. He needs someone like you to help keep him focused. In a way, so does everyone else."

"Even you?" The question escapes my lips before I can fully register the thought in my head. Unsurprisingly, Barbatos doesn't answer. I pushed him too far.

Dammit.

In an attempt to hide my embarrassment, I turn my head towards the window and passively watch as we drive past different buildings and trees.

At least it's early enough in our trip that we can still enjoy ourselves later.

Doesn't help me out now, but still.

~~~

I don't remember drifting off, but I'm nevertheless jolted awake by the car stopping. Glancing out the window reveals that we're parked in front of a convenience store. I wonder if Barbatos got thirsty or something. In any case, it's a good opportunity for me to stretch, so I get out of the car and begin doing exactly that.

"Everything okay?" The question startles me, as I was not expecting Barbatos to be done so soon.

"Yeah," I respond. "My muscles were just starting to tighten up, that's all." Barbatos nods his head.

"Well, I wasn't sure how hungry you would be, so I grabbed you a couple of things." He hands me a plastic bag containing a sandwich, a banana, and a bottle of water. "All human-friendly."

"Thanks." I grab the sandwich first, which is in a brown paper sleeve. As I take the sandwich out of the sleeve, I end up pulling out a folded-up piece of paper along with it.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be awake when I finished, so I left you a little note," Barbatos explains. I bite into the sandwich before unfolding the note and reading it.

MC,

I apologize for not answering your question earlier. It caught me off guard, and I didn't want to sound jumbled in my reply. I was able to think about it, however, and I was reminded of when I helped you study for your speechcraft exam. Specifically, what you had said to me as you were charming me.

To put it simply, I do need you. Maybe not as much or as intensely as the others, but still. You help me relax in a way that no one else has ever been able to. I feel calm around you.

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 24

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE! I hope you all had wonderful holidays. I'm sorry it took me so long to update. This chapter is kind of short, but I hope you like it. Summary: Keyleth tries to study for finals (keyword: tries), but the universe has other plans.

We will resume this another time, Kiki. Vax’s words replayed in Keyleth’s mind over and over again, even after almost a week since the snowball fight. They hadn’t had the opportunity to resume their interrupted moment due to the mountain of homework and essays they had to work on during the weekend, and the even larger mountain of assignments they were given the next Miresen. To make things worse, Keyleth’s anxiety flared up at the first mention of final’s week. It’s not that she had forgotten about it (the looming red circle on her calendar did not go unnoticed), but with everything going on between classes and dealing with whatever her heart was putting her through with Vax, Keyleth had lost track of time. Since Keyleth felt like she had been falling behind in some classes again for the past few weeks, she decided to increase her study hours, and because Vax and her were on speaking terms again, he was back to spending long hours at the library—or wherever it was that Keyleth decided she wanted to study that day—with her.

On Whelsen, after a particularly cold and snowy day, Keyleth decided to stay home to study, so once she got home from classes, she switched into her most comfortable flannel pajama set and draped a fuzzy blanket on her lap as she sat at the kitchen table in front of Vax, who was wearing his hoodie again. The apartment building’s temperature was centrally controlled, and while maintenance had been nice about keeping it cool during the warm weather, they hadn’t made the transition to heat yet, so the residents were forced to bundle up to fight off the cold.

Keyleth and Vax were home alone again (something that had been happening more and more often) since Pike was at the art studio finishing a painting before the stress of the exams took over, Grog was at practice (which seemed inhuman to Keyleth that he had to play sports in this cold), Scanlan was still in classes, Percy at the workshop finishing some super-secret project, and Vex had taken Trinket on a walk with the promise to return home with snacks. 

Ever since the snow day, whenever Keyleth found herself alone with Vax, the memory of their almost-kiss came crashing and taking over her thoughts like a storm. Between how close his warm breath had been to her lips, and the memory of the loud beating of their hearts on repeat on Keyleth’s mind like a scratched disk for the past ten minutes, she was having a hard time focusing. It also didn’t help that every time Keyleth glanced at Vax, he was lost in thought and focused on his books, either biting the end of his pen or with his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he wrote. The tongue in particular was something Keyleth found extremely distracting as it led to very disrespectful thoughts like how it would feel in her mouth, her skin, or—

Keyleth squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, shaking her head to erase the image of Vax’s head between her legs from her mind. These new thoughts had been recurrent from the moment Keyleth realized she was attracted to him, but even more so since they practically kissed, and it was not the moment for that

“Are you okay?” Vax asked, looking up at her. He didn’t seem to have any idea Keyleth had been stealing longing glances at him for the past hour. 

“I’m fine. Sorry,” Keyleth apologized and returned her focus to the book.

It didn’t last for long, though. Not even a minute later, her head lifted back up to glance at Vax. It was hypnotizing to say the least. The hood of his sweatshirt rested on his back, letting Keyleth see the woven braid from the top of his head that fell on the rest of his loose dark hair. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his chin rested on his hand, and his eyeliner was smudged again, as it always happened at the end of the day (it was like Vax didn’t care to reapply throughout the day). He was beautiful in a way most dangerous things are. Charming and mysterious. Even after so many months of getting to know him, Vax still hid secrets that Keyleth wanted to unravel like her life depended on it, but she waited patiently for him to come to her, to share those dark secrets. 

As if Vax felt Keyleth’s gaze on him again, he looked up, locking his eyes with hers. Keyleth loved his eyes but she always preferred to look at them in the sunlight when they became a lighter, almost amber-like, color. Under the fluorescent light of the kitchen, and with no sun in sight, Vax’s eyes were a shade of dark brown that resembled chocolate (which Keyleth also didn’t mind). And then there was also the intensity in his gaze, as if he was trying to peer into Keyleth’s soul to figure out answers for questions he was so afraid to ask. Sometimes it bothered her, others it made her stare even deeper in challenge. This was one of the former moments. Keyleth was afraid that if for some miracle Vax was able to read her mind, he would see that the reason for her cheeks to be tinged with pink was not because of the heat of the blanket on her lap, but the very disrespectful thoughts she had about him minutes before, so Keyleth quickly shifted her gaze back to her book.

The third time Keyleth was caught staring, she was absent-mindedly biting the end of her pencil as she watched her crush write something in his notebook. Keyleth didn’t even realize she had been staring at Vax with a goofy smile on her face until he looked up with a knowing smirk. Keyleth tried to avert her gaze (again), but this time Vax got up with a chuckle and walked around the table into the kitchen to fill his glass with water. Keyleth tried to pretend she wasn’t paying attention to his movements behind her, or that she wasn’t focused on the sound of his bare feet (how could he walk barefoot on the freezing floor?) moving about the kitchen and the rustle of his clothes as he approached the back of her chair. Keyleth almost flinched when Vax set his glass on the table next to hers, and she sat ramrod straight when he supported his weight on his left hand and leaned above her right shoulder, whispering with his lips close to her ear, “What are you studying Kiki?” His voice was sweet like honey and his sweltering breath kissed the skin of her neck. 

Keyleth gulped at the proximity. Vax’s left arm brushed against her shoulder, the other one held the back of her chair, and his nose brushed sensually against the shell of her ear as if he was waiting for a sign to kiss her there. “Anatomy,” Keyleth replied, fully aware of the flush that spread up her neck. 

Vax hummed so close to her that Keyleth’s pulse increased. “This is wrong,” He said, pointing at the exercise Keyleth had been trying to work on. One of the reasons why Keyleth loved to study with Vax was because he was great at Anatomy—her worst subject—and he always took time to explain things to her and to answer her questions with such patience that Keyleth almost wished she had more classes in common with him so he could explain everything to her. Even though Keyleth usually paid close attention to Vax’s explanations, this time her focus was definitely not cooperating with her when he told her how to correct the exercise. 

“Thank you,” Her voice wavered. 

“Any time, Kiki,” Vax kissed Keyleth’s neck behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Keyleth drew in a sharp breath and she felt Vax smile in triumph against her skin. “You okay?”

Keyleth couldn’t answer. She was too stunned, too flustered to form cohesive sentences. The bottom half of her body was suddenly on fire (especially between her thighs), the hairs of her arms raised with goosebumps, and from the pull in her navel, Keyleth knew she was bound to have very vivid and very disrespectful dreams with the man whose nose still hovered by her ear. Nodding in response to Vax’s question was also a mistake because in doing so, the brush of his nose and lips against her neck created another wave of arousal. Keyleth wanted to ask him for more—her body begged for more—so much so that she subconsciously cocked her head to give Vax better access. He smiled again and leaned in, but just as his lips were about to brush that sweet, sensitive spot on her neck again, the front door opened to a cacophony of voices and the clicking of nails on the floor.

Vax was gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Keyleth shifting in her seat trying to hide how much his proximity had affected her. The sudden cold of his absence didn’t do anything to help cool off the heat, so Keyleth set her blanket on the chair next to her, avoiding eye contact with Vax. Soon after, Vex’ahlia, Percy and Trinket entered the kitchen, chatting boisterously.

“Look who I found downstairs,” Vex’ahlia said, dropping a bag from the store on the table. Percy rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, avoiding eye contact with Vax and Keyleth—and for a good reason, from what Keyleth could ascertain. His lips were a shade of red darker than usual, almost slightly smudged as if he had been eating candy. If Keyleth didn’t know better, she would have thought her best friend had dug into the candy in the bag, but, unfortunately for him, Keyleth knew that the smudge came from Vex’s lipstick (and even more unfortunately for Percival, from the glare in Vax’s eyes, he also knew the same). 

“Hello,” Keyleth’s voice was still shaky, but thankfully only Percy seemed to notice that and the color on her cheeks. 

“We ran into Allura in the atrium. She said that Gilmore is throwing a costume party this weekend. No specific theme,” Vex announced, pulling a chair next to Vax and digging through the store bag to bring out a bag of candy.

“Finals start in a month. I don’t think it’s wise—” Keyleth started saying, but Vex interrupted her, “Yes, yes. We know. Live a little, Keyleth.”

“What do you mean, live a little?” Keyleth asked, outraged. Hadn’t she been doing just that? Sure, it had been a while since she went to Glorious with everyone else, but she’d been joining them on game nights instead of studying, and it was only a few days ago that she convinced everyone to skip classes so they could have fun together. She was living a little. 

Seeing Keyleth’s reaction and hearing the offense in her tone, Percy intervened by setting one hand on the table between the girls, “I think what Vex’ahlia is trying to say is that we should go to this party together, as a group, and have fun so we can focus on exams afterward.”

“That’s not—” Vex’ahlia started, but Percy gave her a stern look as if to say drop it, so she remained silent. Whatever was happening between them, Vex seemed to listen to Percy more than she listened to her brother recently.

“I personally agree with Freddie,” Vax announced, closing and stacking his books. It seemed like study time alone with him was over. “We should go to this party, and then focus on exams for the rest of the month. And then—” Vax’s eyes glinted with mischief “—when exams are over, we should throw a raging party to celebrate.”

“Now that is an idea I can get behind, brother,” Vex’ahlia slapped Vax’s shoulder, popping candy into her mouth.

Keyleth’s shoulders sagged in resignation, she mumbled a low “fine” and closed her books. It didn’t matter that Vex had brought candy for their study session because there wasn’t a study session anymore, not the way Keyleth wanted.

—

“Should we do a theme for the party?” Scanlan asked a few hours later. The group sat in the living room after dinner, almost everyone holding a bottle of beer in their hand and a notebook in the other as they brainstormed ideas for their costumes. 

“Allura said there wasn’t one,” Vex replied.

“Sure, but what if we did a group theme?”

“Like what? Do we all dress up as football players?” Grog asked.

“Yes, or we each dress up as a character from a movie or a game,” Scanlan threw the idea at the group.

“There are only two days left until the party, Scanman, and some of us can’t afford to buy a costume,” Vax noted.

Keyleth was sitting on her armchair in the corner. She had refused a beer, opting for a cup of tea instead. The last thing she wanted after a stressful day of classes was to go shopping, not to mention that stores would be closed by the time she was done with classes for the next two days. If only there was a way for them to use whatever they had in their wardrobes… Keyleth’s eyes wandered between her roommates, studying their looks. Grog and Pike had very similar styles: relaxed and comfortable, often opting for sweats and large t-shirts or clothes that allowed them to move. The twins’ styles were also very alike, both going with edgy clothes that could easily be interchangeable. The only people whose style deviated were Keyleth, Scanlan and Percy: the former because most of her clothes were thrifted or handmade; the second because they were sometimes flashy and bold; and the latter due to his business casual style.

“Wait, that’s it,” Keyleth thought out loud, sitting up on her armchair with a smile.

“What’s what, darling?” Vex’ahlia asked. Every head turned to Keyleth in confusion, making her heart jump to her throat from being the center of attention.

“Uh… I had an idea,” Keyleth mumbled.

“Let’s hear it.”

“What if we dress as each other? We can put our names on a piece of paper and each one of us goes and selects someone at random, and we can use their clothing. That way we don’t need to buy new stuff. But we should keep it a surprise until the day of the party.”

“That’s a great idea Kiki,” Vax’s eyes lit up with pride—Keyleth’s heart sank back into her chest from Vax’s words of reassurance.

“How do we keep it a surprise if we need to use their clothing?” Percy asked.

“We steal it,” Vax replied with a laugh. 

“Okay but I don’t think Vex’s skirts will fit me,” Grog pointed out.

“I’d love to see that,” Vex laughed. 

“Well, we might have to buy one or two things, but it should be easy, right?” Keyleth’s anxiety was back. What if they hated the idea of wearing each other’s clothes?

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, I’m in,” Pike said with a smile. 

Scanlan and Vax agreed, then Vex and Percy, who exchanged a knowing look between them, and lastly Grog with a shrug. They wrote down their names on a piece of paper, folded it and mixed it inside Grog’s cap. The hat went around as they took a piece of paper one by one. It took Keyleth all her strength to hide her excitement when she saw the familiar handwriting on her piece of paper. This is going to be fun.

“Did anyone get their own name?” Scanlan asked. Everyone shook their heads, some smiling, others looking worried. “Well then, good luck everyone.” Scanlan winked.

Keyleth knew right away what she wanted to wear, and how she was going to do her hair and makeup, but some of her anxiety returned as she looked at the person she had been randomly assigned—chuckling on the inside at the irony of the situation. She had no idea how she was going to steal their clothes, but she had two days to figure it out.

[indefinitecreations]

Tried opening up to someone abt how I was coping better with battling my agoraphobia bc he had been really chill so far about my disability parking placard and different mobility aids (cane, walker, wheelchair) so I thought he was getting more open minded regarding my disability stuff (he goes back n forth on being accepting and ableist tbh)

Upon opening up I met with a whole lot of “phobias don’t randomly appear” “what are you gonna do when you’re no longer double insured” “why aren’t you looking for a job” “excuses, excuses” (these are not direct quotes, I’m paraphrasing)

I didn’t have the energy to explain to him that he only sees what I allow him to see, and that he’s only around me maybe 3 or 4 times a year, that does not give him an accurate understanding of what I’m going through whatsoever. Even when I saw him every other weekend, I was on my best behavior- he has never seen me at my lowest.

Like- my agoraphobia did not in any way, shape or form, come out of nowhere because I’ve dealt with it since I was a pre-teen at minimum, and how bad it is has always been anxiety based.

Insurance wise- I’ll still have my other insurance ???

Me not looking for a job isn’t new either ?? I’m in the last stage of an SSI application decision, like I’m waiting for a court date ??? I deadass can’t work bc I have multiple disabilities, some worse than others but I cannot work.

The whole excuses thing is what bothers me the most about the conversation because at that point I had already stopped answering him, like I wasn’t answering his questions when they became inappropriate and offensive, but this one in particular hurt because a disabled person, being unable to work and saying it’s because they’re disabled, it’s not them “abusing the system”, it’s them literally telling you they are unable to do something even if they tried (some may even be able to do the work, however it would be detrimental to them, that’s still unable to do the work). When I can’t do something, I can’t do something, end of story, and I shouldn’t be guilted and shamed for it.

[captainkingsley]

Mollymauk knows it's a long shot. Hell, it's probably a shorter shot to throw his scimitars to Tal'dorei — but he knows he'll never forgive himself if he doesn't ask. There will always be a part of him that will nag at the back of his thoughts if he doesn't say something.

(And Yasha will nag him, too. Which is probably worse, because he can't disappoint Yasha.)

So he breathes deep, runs his hands over his hair, and stares at the mirror for just a moment longer. 

"Alright, Tealeaf. You can do this. You've only been friends through near apocalyptic catastrophe — this won't affect you or your friendship if he says no." He says, now gripping the edge of the sink. It's a rather nice looking sink, actually, but that's to be expected in Rexxentrum. Not the basins or tubs of smaller towns, but proper water service running through the city, and yes, he knows he's stalling thinking of running water versus still basins of water, but he's itchy with anxiety.

Mollymauk breathes deep, pulling his coat on once more — not the old coat, that had been ripped and turned into a blanket by Yasha, since she knew just how important it was to him — and he inspects himself once more. 

He's grown. His hair has grown out, closer to how he'd had it before he'd met the Nein. He's added a couple more tattoos, one visible from the open collar of his new, silky blue shirt, a peek of vibrant lines of a tree branch extending up from his ribcage and onto his pectoral muscle opposite the peacock. Some of it seems to glitter in the light thanks to Orly's handiwork. Molly thinks it looks rather nice with the rest of his ink, and he hopes everyone else does, too.

One person in particular. 

He fiddles with his sleeves, picks at his fingernails for a moment before turning with a new determination to the door. 

Say it now while you've got the chance, he tells himself. 

The rest of the Nein are beginning to head up to the room where Caleb has set up the tower for the night. The last few remaining are Yasha, Veth, and Caleb — Yasha meets Molly's eyes and seems to read him immediately, giving him the shortest smile and a nod of encouragement before she begins to head up.

"Veth, you should come with me," Yasha says, "I have something to show you."

Oh, Moonweaver bless you, Yasha, Molly thinks. 

Veth asks what it is Yasha wants, but Yasha simply stammers through some excuses as she encourages Veth to follow. Once they've both disappeared up the stairs, Molly finds his pulse quickening. 

It's been quite some time traveling together. Caleb looks tired, but he also looks accomplished, happy, healthier than he had in the beginning. Molly finds that the most attractive part of him, these days, that he looks like he's happy with himself. Confidence, newfound steadiness in himself. 

He thinks back to the things they've done, the risks they've taken for each other. How many fights had turned to Mollymauk diving in front of Caleb to take a hit, to defend him from something that would easily cut through Caleb's coat, and in turn his body?

Caleb seems to be reading Mollymauk in return, but what he's thinking, Molly can't tell. He's too scared to imagine what he's thinking of. 

So instead he avoids eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"It's been a journey," Molly says, watching as Caleb collects his things from the table. 

"It has." Caleb says, sounding level and noncommittal. "We've come a long way from hunting demon toads."

"Devil toads," Molly corrects, and he watches the corner of Caleb's lips turn upward in a smile. 

"Devil toads. Yes." Caleb says. "You seem like you have a question?"

"I… I do, actually, yes." Mollymauk says. He rubs his hands together anxiously, thinking for a moment that if he were a cricket he would be the noisiest one alive, swiped up by a predatory bird faster than he can comprehend. 

But he's just a tiefling in a tavern with a good friend, hoping not to embarrass himself. 

"I was actually wondering… Now that we're, you know, some of us are splitting ways, some are going with each other," he thinks of Beau and Yasha. "I was wondering where you plan to end up?"

Caleb hums. 

"I was thinking just outside of the city," Caleb says. "Any particular reason to ask?"

"Well," Molly says, drawing the word out. "You know, I was with the circus, and that's… not an option any longer. And while sure, sure, Lucien had family I could track down, it seems a bit rude to pursue that, gods only know if they'd want anything to do with me, so…"

Caleb says nothing. He only stares at Mollymauk with a raised brow. 

"... And Yasha and Beau are definitely going to have their own thing going on, so I was thinking maybe I could, you know, stick around town, find a spot around here, and maybe…"

Gods, when did his palms get so sweaty?

Is he shaking?

Why is asking this so much harder than propositioning a stranger?

(They've only risked their lives for each other, been through hell and back, torn down a near demigod to keep each other safe. Normal bonds of friendship.)

"I'd like to see you now and then, now that things are settling down, and I was wondering how you'd feel about…"

Caleb's watching him so closely now. Mollymauk feels his face burning. 

"Mollymauk." Caleb says. Molly stops in his stammering. 

"Yeah?" He says, his voice more a squeak than a vocalization. 

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Molly finds that the wood grain of the floor sort of looks like a dragon from this angle. 

He swallows. 

"Yes?" He says, not looking up. 

"I think, well. We are definitely at a good place to think about these things," Caleb says, "Though I do plan to take some students, and to chase down the remaining evidence of the Assembly and their actions…" 

"I'm flexible," Molly says, and then he pauses. Don't make him uncomfortable. "My schedule is flexible. I'm sorry. Didn't mean —"

"I think, perhaps, it would be nice to see how flexible you are, Mollymauk Tealeaf." Caleb laughs, and Molly finds himself taken aback. 

"You—" he starts, then laughs in return. "Caleb?"

He gets only a smile in return. 

And oh, what a smile it is. Mollymauk feels his knees go a little weak, finds laughter bubbling in the back of his throat as Caleb ushers him forward for a hug, arms wrapping around him. When he pulls away, he feels hands on his shoulders,

lips against his forehead. 

Mollymauk says nothing, but he smiles.

A return gesture, a promise of more. 

It's not quite love yet, he thinks, but it's a start. 

An ending to one story and the first page of another. 

[bubblepopsims]

Days Past since Ruby saw Tobias. Thankfully it was because Tobias was off to a tattoo convention for a few days. Leaving her with time to figure out her mind (push it off) after discovering from not just one but three tests that she most definitely is, pregnant. Yes.

Still unable to figure out how to tell him and actually admit it to herself as well. Ruby was continuing to stay in a stage of Denial.. no matter how mad the morning sickness was getting, how her tits hurt even when just putting on a shirt or how she now was crying at food commercials... she was making excuses for everything.

But at least she cleaned her house... excessively...

R: "oh oh wait! i got this!!!"

R: "HA! YES! Seee i am still good at this !!! its okay dearest brother i am just better."

R: "whooppsss...... NO YOU DIDNT SEE THAT! MY FINGER SLIPPED!!!"

Ruby laughed only to swallow hard when that familiar feeling settled in her stomach and started to move up to her chest. "Shit..." R: "hey can we resume in a bit i forgot i needed to do something!." R: "yes yes, Tobias is coming straight here... mhm -swallows hard again trying to not rush, BUT rush- okay. okay!"

Once Josiah disconnected Ruby dropped everything and rushed to the bathroom for another round of morning sickness. It was becoming worse by the day and the more it happened the more it sent Ruby spiraling. This morning in particular.

Now sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, shielding herself from the wall that were caving down on her in her head. if she had found out months ago that she was pregnant... it would have already been taken care of. But things have changed, her feelings have changed. she didn't know if it had to do with the hormones. But after her last encounter with Tobias, she believed things to be different. it felt different. She actually saw a new beginning outside of her career. But what if Tobias ended up resenting her .. or stating that she is attempting to ruin his life.. what if the choice was to get an abortion...would he agree? would he be sad? hate her? She didn't know and that worried her. scared her. "What the fuck am i going to do.... what the fuck am i going to do.."

"Do i want a Kid now?… am I ready to put a pause to my career, my time, my space… do I really see myself with Tobias that long? To have his kid? Be committed for I don’t know… a fucking Lifetime because of this fetus.. and what if I got an abortion… would he be sad? Angry?disgusted? Wait do I really think he would be disgusted…… no. No. No? Right. Oh god oh god" that was growing inside of her. the anxiety was getting to her head and making her quite frankly even more sick than she already was. she just told Tobias she loved him and now she is pregnant?

“I been so fucking reckless letting him just… just… mmmm yeah no I really can’t be mad about it…. But that’s why I got this fucking stick in my fucking arm, and for the most part I swallow thank you very much.. so how the hell.. wait” R: "wait. i couldn't have gotten pregnant overnight.... shit... how... how fucking long have i been pregnant??" R:"Oh my god this is just getting worse and worse"

“I don’t want to tellllll himmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm- huh? shit!" a knock to the door startled her, not realizing what time it was exactly. and than it came again only now a singing of her name by the one person she wanted to see but also avoid. Forgetting that Tobias was coming straight here once he got back into town.

“He can wait singing like that ahahah…. Plus I need to mouth wash or something….”

Previous - next

[becauseimswagman1]

What Are We pt. 5

A/N:SHE'S BACKKKKKKKK~

A/N: the way this fic was inspired by a single photoshoot Michael did and I'm close to writing it in, but at the same time I'm not cause that means the fic will be over. But here's part 5.

_____________________________

The events of last night burned through your mind as you awoke in the bed next to the man you’ve wanted since what seems like the beginning of time, except that every man wasn’t there.

Thoughts of anxiety haunted your mind, but why wouldn’t they? He confessed to you last night, that should count for something right?

You sat up in bed and checked your phone on the nightstand. He’d have called or at least texted you if he was leaving right?

Tears started to form in your eyes, but you decided to stay positive. Maybe he’s out getting breakfast or on a morning jog right? He jogs in the morning, right? You never paid too much attention to his workout routine to know anything about it.

Before your thoughts could possibly get any worse, here comes Michael with a tray full of food, “Good morning sleepyhead. I made your favorite breakfast with the option of regular juice or a mimo-” Michael saw your face, sad with tears ready to fall at any moment, “Hey, what’s going on?”

He sat the tray down on your bedside table, sat next to you in the bed, and held you in his arms, “Did I do something?”

Holy fuck. You just assumed that he’d be an asshole and leave you in the morning like a few of your past hookups, of course, he’s different.

“I… I thought you left me. You know a good ole fuck and duck.” you couldn’t help but sniffle and try to hide it with a chuckle, trying hard to forget that you were about to cry over him possibly jetting off after a night of fun.

Michael only held you tighter, “Why would I do that? Did I not just confess my love to you last night? It doesn’t make sense that I’d do that.” he chuckles, “I was only downstairs making us breakfast. I made really big pancakes with chocolate chips in them. Just the way you like them.”

You wiped your eyes and moved out of his arms, “Okay okay let’s not focus on how I thought you were being an ass. Let’s focus on this wonderful breakfast you made,” you side-eye him a bit laughing, “and see if it’s even edible.”

He made a face, “Oh you got jokes now?? Weren’t you just about to cry cause you thought I left?” now it’s your turn to make a face, “Yeah got that ass.”

Michael picked up the tray and sat it in front of y’all, “Let me feed you.” And feed you he did. Pancakes aren’t something you can fuck up, but people really can’t cook sometimes. Luckily Michael can. He even made your coffee correctly, which says a lot about how closely he pays attention to you. You’re very particular about how you drink your coffee at home.

It’s really the little things that make you fall for him. Over the years the two of you have been friends, there has never been such a moment as this. This is the timeless and epic love you only see in movies that you had been, not necessarily, searching for.

After making sure you and he ate a good amount, he took the tray and you to the kitchen, “So I had to be here to watch you wash my dishes?”

You were confused about what was going on.

Michael held up the letter he told you not to read until he left the state, “I don’t want you to read this anymore.” you had a confused look on your face and before you could ask, he answered the unasked question, “I don’t want you to read it anymore because everything I wanted to say to you in this letter, I said to you last night…. Well… almost everything. Everything I wanna say to you couldn’t have been crammed into one night. This letter does sum it up, but you deserve to hear it verbally. You deserve to know that I mean it.”

You chuckled nervously, a little unsure how to feel about this, “You sure I can’t just read the letter? I feel like that would make things better.”

Michael held your hands in his, “I know you aren’t used to someone expressing themselves romantically to you like this, but get used to it.” he took in a breath, “I like you, a lot. I’ve liked you for a while now, but never had the chance to tell you, hence why I wrote the letter, but last night happened. Way to speed up the process unknowingly.” he winks at you, chuckling nervously. “And honestly, like is an understatement becauseI love you. I love you so much that it hurts to even think about you being with anyone that isn’t me. You mean the world to me and if I lost you, ever, I'd lose the biggest piece of myself. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And every time I think about the future, I see you in it, with me. It’s always us together in some shape or form.”

You had tears in your eyes at the confession. He loved you? In a romantic way?? You honestly thought this day never would’ve come. Are you that bad at picking up signals?

“Michael, I love you too. I never thought you reciprocated any type of feelings beyond friend. I don’t know what to say other than that I love you, too.”

He smiled, “Kiss me?”

And kiss him you did. This kiss was different than last night. This kiss was not alcohol clouded or lust-induced. This kiss means everything to you both. It’s the sparks flying, one leg lifting, touching your lips after it’s done kissing.

“Woah… that was… wow.”

“Feels good to kiss you and not be embarrassed about it,” you said then licking your lips.

Now that you two have established that you like each other, it’s time for another hard conversation… the “what are we?” conversation, but that could wait until you’re sure. But how sure could you get? You know what you want? But does he?

Michael sat next to you, “Yeah it does. So… I was wondering if you’d like to go on an official date sometime?”

“Duh! I mean yeah, yeah…um, it can’t be tonight, though, can it? I know you got a photoshoot and-”

He chuckles, “Speaking of that, can you edit those photos for me?”

“I’d love to. What type of photoshoot is it?”

“Kinda nude. Don’t worry I’m not gonna be completely naked.”

Giggling, “Well it’s not like I haven’t seen a considerable amount already so.”

“I meant the back!”

“Oh, I’ve seen that already.” you waved him off.

“Pfft, no you haven’t.”

“Yeah. I have. That night we went to the beach in the wintertime and I dared you to skinny dip. You weren’t so good at covering yourself up after helping me finish two bottles of Vodka.” You laughed at the memory. Y’all were so messed up that night.

He laughed right along with you, “Oh my God! That’s right! I had the worst hangover. It’s the reason I haven’t touched it since.”

“Mhmmm. So, what time is your photoshoot?”

“At six. It’s a good time to use the natural lighting.”

“Oh, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“To do what exactly?”

You stood up, “To clean my house up, specifically my bedroom.” You started walking towards your room.

Michael had a little smirk on his face and followed close behind, “Is this your way of telling me that you want some dick again?”

“I-”

He held his finger over your mouth, “Shh. I know it was some of, if not the best, dick you've ever had. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

With muffled speech, “No, my room is a mess.”

He removed his finger, “Oh. Well… let’s get to cleaning.”

AFTER CLEANING. FIVE FORTY-FIVE PM

So… you did get some fantastic head. The two of you took a shower together after cleaning and he wanted to give you something to think about while he was gone.

“Hey, I’m about to leave,” Michael said while grabbing his car keys.

You responded from the couch, “Okay, I’ll be here catching up on some work.”

He walked over to the couch and kissed your forehead, “Don’t work too hard.”

You smiled a bit, “Of course.”

He smiled, “Ite, then I’m out! See you in a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Be safe.”

As soon as he walked out the door and you heard his car crank, you got up and jumped around. Y’all will discuss relationship shit later… and schedule that date, but it doesn’t matter right now! Life is too good right now.

_________________________

Redoing my taglist so lmk if you wanna be added

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Reaction

Episode 11: “The Witches from Earth”

I was a little wired during this episode so I made not time to stop and take notes. So now I’m going to try to remember everything bit by bit and it’s not going to be in any particular order

First, from now on the Jeturk son’s name is Bob. I accept no criticism

Speaking of Bob, it is safe to say he is the official punching bag of the show. We could compile a lengthy list of the number of times he has been owned and we’re not even halfway through the show

There was a lot of talk since the last episode about how the big miscommunication came about, and someone mentioned something I hadn’t consider. Suletta evaluates her own worth to how useful she can be to other people. When you give her a job you say no one else can do but her, that makes her feel happy and valued. Take that away from her, make her feel like she’s replaceable and she loses all confidence in herself and feels a constant need to prove her worth. The worst part, the more nervous she is, the more prone she is to make a mistake, which in turn further fuels her anxiety in a vicious cycle.

So all of Earth House and even their animals (and Belmeria) are along for the ride. Now that I have a chance to think about it, that’s actually extremely worrying. I’m not worried for Suletta or Miorine losing their lives, but the rest of Earth House is a long list of expendable characters.

I’m still very disappointed in Nika, but at least she has a bit more awareness with what is going on with Suletta, and the likely cause of it

In a surprising twist, Prospera chooses now to act like a decent mother to Suletta.

I have to wonder, both Miorine and Suletta have used the toilet to hide from people. Either it’s something they just happen to have in common, or maybe Suletta picked up a bad habit from her bride. The thought is both sweet and unsettling at the same time. And hey, Miorine did find her there on her own.

I enjoyed the chase, even though both our girls were having a hard time. I sort of feel like I should be disturbed by Miorine using such an underhanded tactic, however I can’t help but respect that it was both clever (she had me fooled) and, unfortunately, very necessary.

Suletta, true to her nature, spent much of her “explanation” rambling incoherently about things Miorine couldn’t understand without the proper context but somewhere along the way she picked up the general message. Miorine herself is not much better with all her contradicting statements, like how she wanted to run away from father, and now can’t and has to face him regularly and that’s the fault of thanks to Suletta. I’m glad they got some of their issues sorted out and now have a clearer idea of how the other feels about them, just in time for them to fall victim to a terrorist attack

The mystery of Prospera’s schemes deepens. She straight up uses her true name in front of Delling and appears to be using data from Aerial to assist in Delling’s super secret project. Prospera is hellbent on revenge according to the short novel, but we do not know what form it will take.

It’s interesting to see the pilot from the prologue make an appearance. He seemed formidable as a pilot, but now I’m not sure what he is supposed to be.

Jeturk continues to play his games. Unfortunately for him, he forgot something very important, you can’t trust a traitor. Anyone willing to help you stab someone else in the back is just as capable of turning the blade on you.

Speaking of traitors, that’s a good shot of Nico realising the consequences of her actions. She is now complicit in terrorism, and if anything happens to any member of Earth House, it will be partly on her head.

So, these witches. Seems one of them, Sophie, has taken a personal interest in Suletta. She seems like the wild card of the bunch so it’s up in the air whether this is better or worse for Suletta.

All that said, since Suletta and Miorine are communicating again, I’m more confident that they will end up working together to get themselves out of this crisis.

The real question is, can Bob break his losing streak?! A thought just occurred to me. If the terrorists are using Jeturk suits, Bob could probably hijack one and pilot it better than most could.

That’s probably not everything but it’s late and I’m at my limit. Another 2 weeks, was it?

Edit: I forgot the damn keychains! Miorine was really like: “this looks lame, cheap and ugly, no one with give this to me but you, which is exactly why it is now my most cherished possession”. That is exactly the reaction I was expecting.

[sodiumlamp]

Picard

I hate this show so much.

It's not that bad, I guess. I've said before, the actors are talented, and the production values are generally pretty impressive. You can tell a lot of work went into this. It's not like they just put a hand puppet on the screen and had him go "Herpy-derp I am the Picard! Watch me make poopie!" We're a long way from rock bottom.

But it's still really unsatisfying to watch this thing. I find myself thinking of all the "bad" Trek episodes I've seen in the past, and pretty much all of them would be more fun to watch than this. Quark impersonating his mother? Better than Picard. Dr. Crusher fucks a candle ghost? Better than Picard. Warp 10 Humanders? Not even a question, that episode kicked ass. I mean, it was really stupid, but the real worst episode of Voyager was "Retrospect". Still, both of those were better than Picard.

Let's branch out a little. Dragon Ball GT? Better than Picard. The Proposal? Yeesh, that's a close one. No, Betty White was in that. Still better than Picard. Hocus Pocus? I mean, it's shorter than Picard. I'm trying to think of something objectively worse than watching this show, and I think I'm having to dip into just bad life experiences, like getting dumped or being unemployed.

Let me try to get to this particular episode. It's S2E5, "Watcher". They call it that because the Borg Queen advised Picard to locate a "watcher" who was a potential ally in the mission to fix time. Picard found her last episode, but she's actually a "supervisor" like Gary Seven from the TOS episode. See, we're doing callbacks to Gary fucking Seven here, but this show still can't figure out why Picard and Guinan don't remember meeting in 1893.

I don't think they ever named this "supervisor" character. They should call her "Gary Eight" because fuck it. Anyway, her job is to shepherd the career of astronaut Renee Picard, who's due to go on a spaceflight, but she's got the same anxiety/depression that everyone in 2024 has. Also everyone in 2401 has it too, so time is a flat circle.

Renee's therapist, Q, is trying to talk her out of going on the mission, so Picard's like "Aha! That's just the sort of trick that asshole likes to play." Except no it isn't, he's the one who showed Picard the altered timeline and gave him the opportunity to go back and try to fix it. Why would he be the one trying to fuck things up?

Apparently Q's powers don't work right now, so he does a side plan where he contacts Noonien Soong's ancestor and cures his daughter's comic book mutation to save her life. In exchange he wants Soong's help to do... something. I don't even feel like speculating. This show just drains all the enthusiasm right out of me.

There's a lot of doubles in this show. The Watcher/Supervisor/Gary Eight looks like Laris, but without the Romulan ears. This is never explained. When Raffi and Seven save Rios from ICE, there's an Elnor lookalike on the bus with Rios. This is never explained. The Soong ancestors look exactly like Alton Soong and Soji from Season 1. This... kind of makes sense, but there was no reason to have them be the Soongs. If Brent Spiner wanted to be in the show so damn badly he shouldn't keep asking the writers to kill him off.

None of this crap matters. They could have jumped straight from Episode 2 to Episode 6 and it would have been fine. Picard goes straight to the Watcher to find out about Renee, and they can just skip the bit with Jurati merging with the Borg Queen, since I'm pretty sure that won't amount to anything anyway.