#geologists? your thoughts? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monstersandmaw · 1 year ago

Text

Male centipede-alien x transmasc nonbinary reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Final commission from my batch of five! For @mongoose-king!

Content: sassy, confident, transmac reader, non-penetrative sex, oral sex, 't-cock' used for human's genitals, no other areas specified/mentioned. Brief threat to life (not from monster), some mention of isolation on a planet. And a giant pet slug. Wordcount: 6749

“Well. That’s… unexpected,” you croaked, staring incredulously at the small screen on the sleeve of your white space suit as it blinked a red and improbable warning at you.

The planet wasn’t exactly hostile to humans, but the harsh sun and arid air made being outside for long periods of time pretty uncomfortable for humans, and the oxygen levels were low enough that it made you dizzy if you didn’t take a gulp from your suit’s mask from time to time at the very least.

You were quite possibly the only other sapient being within about nine thousand miles, but while you were cataloguing obscure and previously unknown kinds of invertebrate, the research team on the literal other side of the world were geologists from Meliikos Prime, and they didn’t speak Galactic Common very well. They’d been polite enough when you’d hailed them out of courtesy when you’d flown in though, and when they’d discovered you were human, they’d beamed over their extensive survey data of the terrain and marked off water supplies too, which you’d thought was pretty nice of them.

Other than rocks and a few cool bugs though, there really wasn’t anything to write home about on this planet; certainly nothing that was going to win you any research accolades. It wasn’t on any of the major hyperspace links, there were no relay stations in this quadrant, and so far, other than a supremely flamboyant species of flatworm living in a toxic geothermal pool near your research ship, and a type of slug as big as a golden retriever that, rather relatably, hadn’t moved in over a week, there wasn’t anything of note here at all.

And yet, the general alert on your space suit had just calmly announced that a heavy cruiser bearing the insignia and codes of the Porphaerian Empire was inbound to your location and all civilians of the Republic were advised to evacuate the planet as soon as possible and make their way to the nearest Bastion. You weren’t even sure where the nearest military outpost was, given that the ever-belligerent Porphaerian Empire had never shown any interest in invertebrates on remote planets before, and this planet in particular sat on the outer reaches of the known universe and was so bloody insignificant that it hadn’t even acquired a proper name. It was still just: OR-2559-B.

“The fuck?” It came out as a little strangled yelp as you looked up into the purple-ish blue of your dear OR-2559-B’s atmosphere to find the silhouette of a huge ship appearing out of the veil of wispy clouds that whisked and drifted around on the upper currents. These things were only supposed to exist in immersive VR cinemas, and only then to get blown up by plucky pilots operating under astronomically small odds. Plucky you might have been, but you were neither a pilot nor currently in possession of anything more powerful than a handheld scanner for identifying the chemical composition of various types of bug goop. Your ship didn’t even have cannons, though there was a small pistol under the console, just in case.

You snatched up the tray of samples you’d spent the last three hours taking from the placid wildlife around the stream and legged it back towards the small and laughably fragile buggy that you used to cover greater distances into the field from your research ship. By the time you’d jounced over the rough terrain of the plateau and yelled at your little buggy to please find a little more juice in her batteries to get you up the hill at a pace faster than a mildly-inconvenienced slug, you saw other shapes flitting like bats around the underside of the huge cruiser. Fighters.

“Oh come on,” you groaned. Your ship lowered the ramp as it detected your approach and you steered the wheezing buggy up the incline and into the cargo hold, tripping over the side of the roll cage as you floundered to exit the darned thing, and raced to the hatch that would lead you up into the cockpit.

Sweeping a week’s worth of papers and vac-packed ration wrappers off the console, you punched in your code and yelled at the ship to come out of its sleepy hibernation state, which it did with enviable efficiency.

“Hostile signatures detected,” she said in that irritatingly calm voice she had under all circumstances.

“Well the fuck aware, thank you. Now, can we get out of here please?”

The brief thought flickered across your mind that it probably wouldn’t help matters if the ship’s AI screamed at you in panic instead of speaking in a monotone if she blew something down in the engine room, but you had little time to dwell on that as a larger fighter roared right past the windshield and a huge energy blast swept over the ship.

Instinctively, you covered your face and closed your eyes, and when the accompanying cloud of dust and debris had finished raining down and clinking off the glass and metal structure of the ship, you realised she had gone eerily quiet. “Girlie?” you exhaled into the relative silence.

Nothing. Hell, you’d take that dull monotone over this any day.

Opening your eyes and lowering your arms, your body flooded with adrenaline when you saw that all her screens were dark, and the lights had gone off. “Oh, you fucking assholes!” you yelled in the vague direction of the enemy cruiser. “You want my bug slime? Fine! Take it! But you leave my fucking ship alone!”

It was strange what came out of your mouth in times of stress, but you weren’t given the luxury of being able to the psychology of a lone human put suddenly under the immense pressure of an unforeseen and life-threatening situation, because a small fighter landed outside and you scrabbled under the console to retrieve the pistol that you’d placed there on the off-chance you ran into something that thought a scrawny research scientist in a space suit looked more appealing than its usual diet.

A blaster bolt battered its way through the hull of your ship and several more created an enormous smoking hole where the hatch had been, and you stood there, wide eyed, as three Porphaerian soldiers appeared like cartoon villains out of the twisting black smoke. They were all wearing black, form-fitting space suits made of some fancy, matte, composite material, and a shiny, black helmet with a blacked-out visor that revealed nothing of their slightly reptilian features underneath. Their three-fingered hands were also gloved, and they all bore a weapon of some kind: the one at the front of the trio had a blaster, while the one to their left — your right — had some kind of bludgeon that zapped with a purple energy at one end, and the other had a net that crackled with the same energy and a trident with barbed points.

“What do you want?” you chirped, hoping you sounded more composed than you felt. You tightened your hold on the grip of your pistol at your side, and glared at them. “And why are you blowing holes in my baby girl’s hull? She’s a scientist. What’s she ever done to you?”

Your words and tone seemed to confuse the leader of the three Porphaerians for a moment, and they froze, tilting their helmeted head to one side. Seven foot tall, bipedal, with four arms and a long, slashing tail that whipped back and forth behind it like a lizard in a tizzy, they should have been intimidating, but you were so damned outraged at the whole situation, it was hard to be fully afraid. The one to their left let out a growl and chittered something in their incomprehensible language. That was just one of the many things that made the bloody Porphaerians think they were better than everyone else: they had the most convoluted and complicated method of communication out of almost all known species.

“Well, what the fuck do you want?” you barked. As if you had somewhere else you needed to be.

With a put-upon sigh, the leader began to talk in Galactic Common, though their mouth full of pointed teeth wasn’t really equipped for its syllables. “You are in… possession of… a substance that is of… interest to our Great and Glorious Empire.”

You blinked. “You guys… really do want my bug slime?”

“Your… what?”

“I’m a scientist. I’m studying invertebrates. Bugs. The slug outside — its name is Goldie, by the way, and it had better not have come to any harm because of you losers — has become a bit of a mascot in the week and a half it’s been resting on that rock.”

“We are not here for… ‘bugs’.”

“Then I’ve got nothing for you, buddy,” you said with a slightly wild grin that was about 99% panic. If you had nothing to offer them, they’d probably just kill you for the inconvenience of a wasted trip. “But if you tell me more about what you’re after, then perhaps I can help?” You had no intention of actually helping them, but stalling them was going to buy you a few more precious minutes to think of a way out of this, so you took it.

“You are… researching… the refractive properties of… a newly-discovered mineral,” the leader said in stilted Common. “Surrender your research and all samples, and we will leave you unharmed.”

Minerals. Shit, that was the nice team from Meliikos Prime.

“I see that you are cognisant of our request.”

“I… what? No.” You stuck your thumb comically towards your chest and grinned, “Bug guy. Not rocks. And that was not a request either. You guys need to work on your Common. Your vocab is seriously lacking.”

One of them twitched their head as if something had come in over the comms, and all three of them tightened their grip on their weapons.

“Seems like you were telling the truth,” the leader scoffed and raised their blaster.

You barely got to duck out of the way before a shot went off, but when you rolled and came up, you saw that the hole where they’d been standing was now empty. A second later, you heard scuttling on the roof of your ship and panic set in for the first time.

The tapping of many legs skittered across the roof and towards the gap in the side, and then at the top of the hole caused by the Porphaerian’s blaster damage, a creature appeared, peering down over the torn and burned edge of the hole. At first, all you saw was a pair of long, caramel brown antennae investigating the space, but a head soon followed, adorned with colossal, mean looking mandibles that could probably punch a second hole through your poor ship’s hull with even less effort than the blaster bolt.

“What the fuck?” you coughed, reeling backwards. You’d never seen any sign of a centipede that size on this planet. When you spotted one of the Porphaerians moving in the limited view outside though, raising their weapon, you yelped and flailed your arms to get it to move, “Watch out!”

In a sinuous motion, the creature looked up, hissed, and slithered on its series of many, jointed legs down to where the Porphaerian was now standing. It reared up, lashing out with forelegs that looked at once deadly and fragile, like alabaster in the strange light of the planet’s atmosphere, and then in a flash, it lunged for the neck of its would-be attacker and closed its steel-jaw mandibles around it. A green fluid burst like an overripe fruit, and you wondered if that was Porphaerian blood or the creature’s venom. The second Porphaerian was caught by the whiplash of its tail and flung into the side of their fighter ship, and the third was nowhere to be seen.

When the centipede-like creature was done decapitating, it turned around and regarded you. It wasn’t just a giant centipede, you realised, as it had more of an upper torso section, with armoured ‘shoulders’ and a couple of limbs at the top that were more like arms with hands than the sickle-like claws that adorned the rest of the legs on its long, segmented, chocolate brown body, and it was regarding you from black, beady eyes with obvious intellect.

Only when it paused, staring at you while your charred ship smoked like something forgotten on a barbecue, did you notice that it had a kind of bandoleer around those shoulders, though it didn’t have cartridges or ammunition that you could see. Instead, there were pockets and some kind of comms device, and… you frowned. “You’re… with the Republic?” you faltered when you saw the insignia.

The alien nodded.

“You have any idea why the fuck the fucking Porphaerian Empire was after my little research ship? Actually, scratch that. They said they were after some funky mineral and — oh God, the geology guys! They —”

The creature chittered something at you, and while you didn’t understand it, you realised it had a distinct air of impatience, with a touch of exasperation thrown in too.

“What?”

Its chitinous shoulders drooped and it scuttled a little closer to the blackened hole in your ship before rearing up and peering in like a dog looking out of a window. You almost laughed, and then realised you were probably a little hysterical from all the adrenaline.

In a rasping, scraping voice, the creature said in Galactic Common, “The team from Meliikos are safe. They told me about you. I came to get you. We need to leave.” Then, after casting a quick, backwards glance, they added, “Now.”

And before you could do so much as grab your favourite pencil from your workstation, the creature had slithered into the ship, scooped you up in its uppermost arms, and was retreating at what felt like a hundred miles an hour out of the shell of your destroyed ship, and out towards the rocky plateau at the bottom of the slope.

As you passed the seemingly-dormant giant slug, you chuckled as it raised its head, eye-stems appearing, and you waved. “So long, Goldie! Take care! I’ll miss our chats!”

“Are you… alright?” the centipede-alien asked, sounding genuinely concerned for your sanity.

Perhaps you’d been alone on OR-2559-B for a few months too long after all. With a shrug, you let yourself be jostled lightly along in their arms and tried not to watch the mesmeric pattern of their honey-gold legs as they rippled beneath their segmented body over the uneven terrain. “Goldie’s been by my side since I got here. I’ve shared most of my research with her. I’m 95% sure she has some pretty nuanced opinions on that comedy military drama thing that came out on earth about a hundred years ago…”

“I will have you checked out by our ship’s medic,” the centipede-alien said as they thundered over the terrain, and you laughed and settled into their arms. Your research had been funded by the Republic, so if one of their soldiers had been sent to rescue you, they could file the reports and figure out what happened next. Honestly, as much as you’d formed an attachment to the community of flamboyant flatworms and the super-gigantic slug, you were suddenly looking forward to an excuse to go off-world and, you know, interact with people again. You just had to make it past the heavy cruiser and its fleet of fighters first.

It turned out that your centipede friend was part of some kind of elite team that made extraction from a hostile environment look like a visit to the archives, and you were tucked away in the corner of their nippy little shuttle while an alien of a species you didn’t recognise, with a crown of antlers and skin like a red nebula, piloted you away from the Porphaerians and out into deeper space. It was one of the roughest take-offs you’d ever endured, but it worked, and it was oddly heart-warming when the Meliikos team all looked around and waved at you in obvious relief when the centipede-alien brought you on board the Republic ship.

The ship’s medic turned out to be really nice, and when you explained that your supplies had all been left on the research ship along with literally the rest of your life in space, they set you up again with your regular prescriptions, and checked you over. After you’d recovered from the aftereffects of the shock, they were happy to discharge you, and you headed out to explore the ship.

Just as you waved your hand in front of the release mechanism for the medbay door though, it was opened by someone from outside, and you took a step back to avoid a collision. The person on the other side halted abruptly in the doorway — literally filling the doorway — and you tipped your head up to take in the full sight of them. It was your saviour, and you grinned at them at the same time as they made a kind of chittering with their thick, black mandibles and waggled their long antennae.

“Hey,” you smiled. “Listen, thanks for getting me out of there like that. I was kind of out of it on the ride over. I never got your name.”

A series of distinctive clicks and chatters left the creature, and you grimaced.

“You got a Galactic Common alternative? My mouth doesn’t, uh… move like that.” The more you thought about their mouth though, the more interested you were in them. They really were beautiful, with a mahogany brown, segmented body and paler legs, and a head with a woodgrain pattern that you hadn’t noticed before.

The centipede alien nodded and laughed, and then said in that harsh voice like bending steel, “I’ve been called ‘Kerritt’ before by humans because of the sound of my name in my own language. You may call me Kerritt, and I use the human equivalent of male pronouns. What should I call you?”

You told him, and he nodded seriously.

“Are you feeling well? I could show you around the ship, but the First Officer would like to speak with you before we do anything else. She sent me down to see if you are well enough to have an audience with her.”

He spoke in short, stilted phrases and his upper body swayed a little. The majority of his body was like that of a giant centipede, but he had a definite waist section that was different from the rest of the segments of chitin and it rose vertically while the rest of him stayed parallel to the ground. And yes, those uppermost limbs were definitely more like arms, with hands that ended in chitinous points and sections of chitin that were more like bracers and gauntlets. His eyes were glossy black, almond shaped, and huge. The way they were placed far apart on his insectoid head was really rather sweet as he regarded you attentively, his long antennae constantly waving up and down in a slow, mesmeric pattern.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “Bit shaken up, and confused as heck, but I’m good. Let’s go talk to your First Officer. Maybe she can explain why the fuck the Porphaerians mistook the bugs guy for the rocks guys.”

He chuckled. “The Meliikosian team will take offence if you call them the ‘rocks guys’,” he said as he turned around in a sinuous curve and began to lead you up the ship’s gleaming corridor towards the bridge. “They are a proud and reserved people.”

“Nah, we’re cool. They like me. They waved at me when you brought me on board. In their culture, that’s practically a marriage proposal, right?”

Again, Kerritt laughed. “Perhaps. Though if you’re so easy to get along with, why did your university send you to one of the most remote places in the entire universe?”

“Ouch! Actually, the Head of the Department was so jealous of my research that she got me funding for a project that would take me as far from the capital as it’s possible to go…” you said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Really?”

“No,” you snorted. “I have an insatiable hunger for the unknown, and some trader mentioned that a cargo pilot said that a friend of hers said there were weird bugs on OR-2559-B. So, I got funding and headed out.”

“That’s… convoluted,” Kerritt said diplomatically. “You went all that way to study invertebrates? Are there none on your planet?”

You eyed him up and down and watched his antennae pull back a little. Was that trepidation? “Sure there are, but what can I say? I’m a dedicated researcher.”

“Right.”

The conversation with the First Officer didn’t last long. She was a colossal Grummgarian with orange-yellow skin and horns on her chin, and absolutely zero patience. When she realised that the only reason you’d drawn Porphaerian attention was by accident, she informed you that you’d be dropped off at the Bastion and would be provided with transport passes back to your university, before she dismissed you with a wave of her three-fingered hand and Kerritt escorted you from the bridge.

“A bit of warning would have been nice,” you shot sidelong at him as the doors closed behind you with a soft thunk.

“There is no warning adequate for that woman,” he said dryly. “You were better off going in cold. Shall I give you a tour of the ship?”

You nodded and followed him as he helped you get your bearings. “Tell me about yourself?” you asked. “I mean, I’ve met a few different species, but I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“Oh,” he said, and clicked his mandibles. “Do you wish to study me too then? Since I am technically an invertebrate myself, after all.”

“Maybe, if you’ll let me,” you said with a wink and watched his antennae pull back again.

“I think I could be persuaded,” he replied. “I’ve not had much contact with your kind either. I didn’t expect you to be so…” he leaned down and tilted his head “… soft. How did you survive the atmosphere of OR-2559-B? I was led to believe that you require higher oxygen levels for respiration?”

“Space suit,” you said. “It did make me a bit dizzy sometimes, but you know, that can be fun too, under the right circumstances.”

“My sources were right about one thing,” Kerritt said dryly as he drew himself back up to his usual posture.

“What’s that?”

“Humans have strange preferences.”

“Baby, you have no idea,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Come on, let’s finish this tour before I keel over. I’m exhausted.”

The two of you traded light conversation back and forth as he led you up corridors and companionways until that banter devolved steadily into cautious but very much overt flirting, and when he left you at the door to what would be your quarters for the short hop to the Republic Bastion, you said, “If I weren’t so tired that I might pass out before the fun even gets started, I’d invite you in.”

“Another time,” he said with a sympathetic bow of his head. “My quarters are up the corridor, should you need me. I’m off duty for a while now.”

“Nice. And thanks for showing me round.”

Kerritt gave another nod, and then he left.

You watched him go down the corridor to another door, his legs rippling in a sinuous sequence to take him forward, and you remembered how it felt to be carried along in his arms and shivered. Your body was running on fumes, but your brain still liked the memory of that strange, chitinous creature holding you in his arms.

You barely had the energy to shower in the cramped en suite, but once you’d changed into something more comfortable and less singed and gritty than your current outfit, you fell onto the bed and slept for sixteen hours straight.

When you woke and dressed, and staggered out into the corridor, your first port of call was the refectory to silence your growling stomach, but everything was closed since it wasn’t the ship’s mealtime. A diminutive creature with four arms and scaled, purple skin looked up from one of the tables in the empty dining area though and chirped something that sounded like an exclamation.

“Wait, human! Kerritt told me about you!” They had a head like a snake and thick spines all down their back, and although they wore clothing over their top half, their lower half was a thick, sinuous tail that uncoiled as they pushed back from the table and made their way over to you. “You want some food? I’ve never cooked for a human before. There aren’t any on this ship, and I joined the Mantis straight from the academy. I had to look up recipes for you in the species guide! I’m not sure what you’d like, but I made six earth dishes for you to choose from. They’re keeping warm now. I didn’t know when you’d be by.”

Their enthusiasm was almost overwhelming after a sleep that was essentially a fully-blown hibernation, but you nodded and let them lead you into the kitchen where you chose something that vaguely resembled beef chilli, though the beans weren’t the usual ones. They were turquoise blue, but they tasted ok.

You were about halfway through an enormous bowl of it when Kerritt entered the dining hall looking tense. That was, he looked tense until he saw you, at which point he sighed and scuttled over in that smooth way you found so attractive, his body moving like a ribbon between the tables.

“You’re awake,” he said when he reached you. “Are you alright? I had to ask the ship’s computer if there was still life detected in your quarters.”

You laughed long and loud. “Yeah, I do that sometimes. Sorry. Yeah, I’m good. Turns out my faithful little research ship, rest in pieces, wasn’t actually built for long-term habitation, because my god the mattress in my bunk here is like sleeping on a cloud, I swear.” You took another spoonful of ‘chilli’ and asked, “How’s things?”

“The ship is on course to dock at the Bastion in seventeen hours,” he said, apparently not sure quite what you’d meant. “Everyone is interested in meeting a human. They have been asking me many questions about you.”

“Oh? What did you tell them?”

“That I have only known you a few hours and cannot speak on your behalf.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “Ah, you’re a good soul, you know that, Kerritt? I like you. Tell you what, when I’ve finished this… uh… ‘chilli’, you can introduce me to your friends.”

He nodded. “May I keep you company until then?”

“I’d love that,” you replied. “You can tell me how the Republic knew about the attack in the first place.”

While he was talking, a few people drifted in and approached when they saw that you were there, talking with Kerritt. It seemed like he was something of a hero among the crew himself, and the array of non-humans aboard varied from the reptilian cook with their purple skin to another invertebrate built more like a spider than a centipede, and several humanoid species, though the differences between you and them were marked. Long after you’d finished your chilli, you were all still gathered around your table, chatting and laughing together, and as people left to tend to their duties or head to their bunks for their downtime, you remarked to Kerritt what a tight-knit crew they had.

He nodded. “We’ve seen a lot of action together in the Vith Sector. It has a way of bonding a crew.”

“For sure,” you said, turning more serious. That sector was where the Porphaerians had been making their most aggressive moves in the last decade of their expansion. You sighed and stretched your neck a little.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Mm. Might walk around a bit for a while. Stretch my legs. Wanna join me?”

He bowed his head and scuttled back from where he’d been coiled up on himself while you’d been talking. His legs moved like clockwork parts, clicking on the shiny floor of the refectory, and you bit your lip and ached to touch.

His mandibles drifted a little further apart for a moment, and you got the impression he was scenting the air, but he took it no further and you tried hard to ignore how attractive you found him and his strange body while you walked the ship’s halls together.

Down in engineering, you visited one of the people you’d just met, and they showed you a few details of how the ship’s engine worked, until you started yawning again, and Kerritt took you back up to the corridor with the living quarters.

“You know, I’m tired, but I'm not actually all that sleepy,” you said. “I think it’s just the stress of what happened.”

“Perhaps… you would like to relax in my room? The permanent crew’s quarters are much bigger than the guest room you were assigned.”

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “Thank you.”

He continued down the corridor to his own room and you followed at his side.

“You know,” you said as he tapped a wristband to the reader in front of his door and it opened almost silently, “I never thanked you for saving my life. Those were some pretty badass moves back there. I’ve never had anyone defend me like that.”

His antennae flicked back in what you were now certain was a bashful expression, and he shrugged one chitinous shoulder. “My unit is trained to handle unusual situations.”

“I count as an unusual situation, do I?”

“I… what?”

“You handled me pretty well.”

If his entirely-black eyes could have rolled, you were certain they would have done, but he waved his hand in front of the door panel and it shut before anyone else on the ship could overhear you.

“You are very… forward, human,” he said, coming closer; close enough to touch.

You reached slowly for his ‘chest’ — or at least, for the section of his body that rose vertically, and which had much smaller segmented parts than the rest of him — and you held your hand out, palm facing him, just a few centimetres from his body. “May I?” you breathed.

He nodded. His own body had gone utterly still. All those mechanical legs holding him rigid as he tilted his head down to regard you, antennae pricked forwards.

Your hand connected with his cool body and a shudder ran through him from head to tail. A second later, lines of neon, bioluminescent green flashed along the length of his body and you gasped, taking your hand away in surprise before pressing it back down and watching the light pulse out a second time. “God, you’re beautiful. Can you feel that then?”

“Yes. Touch is our primary sense.”

You’d suspected as much, but you’d wanted to be sure. You brought your right hand up to meet your left and stood slowly, running your hands up his chest. All the while, his natural bioluminescence pulsed along his body, beginning at the point where you touched him and zipping down the segments of his body like lightning in a regular pattern. The chitin beneath your fingertips felt like glass: smooth and cool and oddly fragile. Your fingers traced the line of one of the segments that sat like armour on his shoulders and he gave another soft gasp and a shiver.

“May I touch you?” he asked.

“God yes,” you laughed, and he brought his clawed hands to your waist then up your torso and neck to rake the points of his fingertips across your scalp. For a second, your soul felt like it left your body and you tipped your head back and moaned.

“You enjoy touch too.”

“Unnfff.”

“Yes?”

You nodded.

“May I pick you up?”

A second and more enthusiastic “unnfff,” left your lips and he chuckled, lowering his mouth towards you for just an instant before he twitched backwards. “Mm?” you asked, only dimly aware that he was actually carrying you across the room towards his wide, comfortable bed now.

“I have to be careful. I have a lot of venom. It’s deadly to humans. Deadly to most species, actually.”

“Oh. I guess that means I can’t kiss you there then.”

“I have to inject my venom for it to be dangerous,” he said, “But I still have to be careful. It’s something of a reflex when I am… aroused.”

“I turn you on, huh?” you slurred cheekily.

“Yes.”

You loved how direct he was, and as he laid you down on the bed and moved his fingers to pause at the fastening of your clothes, you nodded before he could ask permission. He still did, of course, but it was more of a formality at that point. He raked his claws experimentally over your skin, so light it almost tickled, and you arched off the bed.

“I can smell you,” he said when he’d let your clothes fall to the floor. “May I taste you?”

You nodded, desperate to feel his mandibles against your skin. You were swollen and hard and sensitive already, and when he parted his huge mandibles wide to reveal his mouth and a black tongue, you bucked and whimpered and parted your legs for him.

The feel of his tongue exploring up the inside of your thighs was a torture of the best kind, and by the time he closed his mouth around your t-cock, you felt like you might come just from the touch alone. You had no idea what words came tumbling out of your mouth, but he let out a rumbling growl that made his whole body shake and pulse with light again, and you nearly yelled as he dug his claw-like hands into the muscle of your thighs.

You couldn’t think terribly clearly as he got back to work in earnest, practically worshipping your body with his mouth, his onyx mandibles raised just safely enough not to puncture your body but not far enough away that the wicked sharp tips didn’t prick your skin from time to time. His antennae glanced against your waist and shoulders from time to time and you had to restrain yourself from grabbing onto them. They were not horns, and you might even hurt him if you did. It was tantalising and you thrust your head back into the pillow behind you and let out a long, yowling cry of pleasure as you got closer and closer to coming.

Kerritt picked you up again, lifting you right off the bed with ease, and he brought the smooth segments of his lower body to touch yours as he lay down facing you on the bed beside you, encasing you in the cage of his many legs. The feeling of being held and almost immobilised was intoxicating, and you reached a hand up for his head and gripped around the smooth, curved contour of one mandible. He groaned again and you grabbed for the other with your free hand.

“How careful do I have to be with these?” you asked in a rough voice.

They parted and flexed just a little under your hold, but you could feel the immense strength behind them. You’d been right when you’d thought idly that they could punch through steel. One bite from those and you’d be dead.

“Not that careful,” he said, clearly amused behind his growing arousal.

He rubbed his glowing body slowly against you, catching your cock just perfectly with a smooth segment and you wrapped both legs around between two pairs of his legs to adjust the angle and the pressure. He was getting wet from the opening in his carapace, and the combined mess you were making was enough to set your head spinning.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathed as he picked up his pace, fucking against you more wildly with each of your pounding heartbeats. “Oh god, you’re going to make me come.”

“I’m close too,” he said, and you felt his mandibles start to shake and tremble in your grip. “I want to bite you,” he groaned. “I’m going to bite —”

The thick ring of his black mandibles slipped from your hold and in the blink of an eye they’d closed around your neck like a collar. You came with a blinding intensity, bucking against him while his hot tongue pressed against your throat.

A second later, his whole body locked up and he spilled over you in a rush of hot come that went up your stomach and down between your thighs while his whole body spasmed helplessly. His tail curled around you, locking you even more securely in place while his orgasm wracked his entire body, his legs tightening like the jaws of a bear trap against your naked body.

Eventually he stopped and went slack on the bed, and his mandibles opened slowly. All the chinks in his chitinous armour glowed a steady, quiescent green, and his antennae felt and tested at your neck. You nearly laughed at the tickling contrast between the powerful jaws and tender antennae.

“Did I hurt you? Tell me I didn’t hurt you,” he croaked.

“M’good,” you smiled and kissed one black, glossy mandible before he raised it completely out of reach.

He sighed with relief. “I’m sorry. My kind tend to lock in place during… you know. I thought perhaps with you it would be different, but… I’m sorry. It was a risk I shouldn’t have taken with you.”

“S’all good,” you said, your mind blissfully foggy in the wake of the best orgasm you’d had in months. “Come back here,” you said, petting the side of your neck to try and get him to hold you there again with his mandibles.

He did return his grip to your neck, and he slowly coiled his entire body around yours again while the two of you came down together.

“I think you’ve ruined sex with any other species for me after that,” you mumbled a while later.

Carefully, he withdrew his mandibles from you again and nuzzled the smooth top of his head against you, making a soft, crooning noise akin to purr.

“As I think you have for me,” he rumbled.

Without warning, the door to his quarters opened with its near silent sigh of metal on metal, and someone strode in, looking down at a screen in their hand. “Hey, Kerritt, I need you to sign this report for —”

Kerritt drew you even closer to him, masking you completely from whoever had intruded, and he hissed loudly at them over your head like a cobra.

“Shit! Sorry!” they barked, clearly as taken by surprise at the hissing as he had been by their arrival. “You never have company. I just… I’m so sorry! I’ll… uh… it can wait.”

You started laughing even before he set you back down on the bed, and by the time he had relaxed enough to draw back from his protective hold on you, your laugh had turned into a proper cackle.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he snapped.

“I’ve never had a partner hiss at someone to defend my dignity,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes and pushing up onto one elbow.

He regarded you flatly, and you reached carefully for the nearest antenna, running your fingertip along it before encircling it suggestively with thumb and fingers until he gave another huge, full-body shiver and let out a little moan, light pulsing again.

“It’s sweet, that’s all,” you smiled and then asked, “You think you’ve got another one in you, big guy?”

“Keep touching me like that and find out,” Kerritt muttered, rolling onto his back, at once docile and provocative, and letting all the tightly-coiled segments of his body unfurl for you like a fern. That light still darted along him whenever you touched him, flaring to life to telegraph just how turned on he was by you.

This time, you rode him to orgasm, rocking your hips back and forth over his slit until you both came a second time.

Watching a creature as powerful as he was come so completely undone beneath you was probably one of the best sights you’d ever seen.

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Patreon

#centipede alien #insectoid alien #insectoid monster #transmasc reader #transmasc nonbinary reader #alien x human

180 notes · View notes

drinkabletoxicdishsoap · 10 days ago

Text

I’m replaying Pokemon Sword right now, it’s so fun :3 but while playing I thought of fairly odd parents a new wish and wondered what pokemon they would have and I came up with these teams:

For Dev I mainly went based off vibes! I just feel like he would catch any Pokémon he thinks are cool. He’d definitely try to become the champion!

For Hazel I mainly gave her rock types or just any earth based pokemon because she wants to be a geologist in that one episode :3

I gave Dev Espeon for Peri and shiny Umbreon for Irep! For Hazel I gave her shiny Espeon for Cosmo and Sylveon for Wanda. I did give them Pokémon that wouldn’t include them if you think they would just hang off their shoulders and wouldn’t battle.

I think Dev would absolutely mega evolve his pokemon and I think Hazel would use z crystals!

Same for Jasmine and Winn, just based off vibes :3

I would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions on teams for them in the comments or reblogs :3 even for other characters!

#fop peri #fop a new wish #hazel wells #dev dimmadome #winn harper #wanda fairywinkle cosma #cosmo fairywinkle cosma #peri fairywinkle cosma #pokemon #cosmo and wanda #fopanw #fairly odd parents a new wish x pokemon #just my opinion #just my thoughts #dishie posts #jasmine tran

26 notes · View notes

toboldlygohome · 8 months ago

Text

"Please..."

Mark Watney X Reader

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the pain of losing your boyfriend on Sol 6. But you were even less prepared to find out that he didn't die. You left him there. Alone.

Character(s): Mark Watney, Beth Johanssen, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez.

Warning(s): Descriptions of grief, Mentions of death, Cursing (lots of it), Mildly sexual themes (nothing explicit), Mentions of malnourishment.

A/N: I absolutely adore The Martian, but I've noticed a criminally low amount of fan content for it, so I decided to make some! I've decided to follow more closely to the book plot rather than the movie (Just because I like the dialogue more and it's more scientifically accurate). However, there will be a couple scenes from the movie sprinkled in just because I thought they were fun. I hope you enjoy!

It was the morning of Sol 6 and you were up early to make some coffee before your EVA mission. The past few days on Mars had been busy, but far more rewarding than you could have ever imagined. You were one of the geologists in the Ares 3 crew, along with Commander Lewis of course. Mars, to you, was a playground of science. A giant sphere of discovery you couldn't wait to explore.

Today's EVA was to gather samples from near the hab. You had seen plenty of rocks on the way in that you needed to overturn almost as much as you needed oxygen to breathe.

You sensed a hand on the small of your back and felt goosebumps trail up your spine. "Morning Y/L/N. Anything to report?" A playful voice proclaimed.

"Other than bland coffee and terrible sleep, nothing of interest~" You turned back and smiled at your boyfriend. He brushed his thumb over a patch of exposed skin on your lower back before pulling his hand away.

"Hey, at least you don't have to sleep under Martinez, bastard was tossing and turning all night." He smirked as he made his own cup. "I'm barely getting by, the only thing keeping me grounded is this bland ass coffee."

You snickered and rolled your eyes. "Poor baby," You teased.

You and Mark Watney had been together for almost three years, in secret of course. NASA isn't exactly fond of sending couples into space where they might throw caution to the wind and procreate in transit. You were professionals, this mission was something you both had been looking forward to since it was announced. But that wouldn't stop the Space Administration from removing you both from Ares 3.

Nobody knew you were together. Not NASA, not your families, not even the crew knew of your relationship. As far as anyone was concerned, you were just great friends (inseparable in fact). You went out for dinners, went on morning jogs together, spent late nights gaming and going over the mission handbook. Everyone knew you confided in one another and worked incredibly as a team. But nobody would have guessed that instead of playing Yahtzee together on your evenings off, Mark was slowly and deliciously making you breathless with his lips, melting you with his touch.

Once the mission actually started, it was much harder than anticipated to cut out the physical affection. There were cameras everywhere on the ship and absolutely no way to hide from them. The only place for privacy was the bathrooms, but you had a rather close call that involved Mark dragging you there under the guise of helping him with his laptop (which obviously earned an eyebrow raise from Johanssen,) only for him to kiss you with the desperation of a man dying of thirst. You were nearly caught by Beck and you both decided not to risk it again. Luckily, you and Watney were a couple of problem solvers.

Instead of kisses, you resorted to touching. A hand on the back, an arm on the shoulder, a nudge of the elbow. Casual touch became your replacement for intimacy.

Mark pulled a smug smile and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "You know what Y/N, I am a poor baby. But I can think of something that would make me feel better..." He whispered close to your ear. You flushed and playfully shoved him back.

"In your dreams Watney." You scoffed but your hand lingered on his stomach, earning a cheeky grin from the botanist.

"How'd you know?" He laughed, glancing down at your lips briefly. You knew what he was thinking: that it had been awhile and maybe he could risk just a little peck. Mark was a reckless one, that's for sure.

"Guys, quit flirting so loudly. I was trying to get a few minutes extra sleep before Lewis pulls out the bugle," Beck strolled in and grabbed a ration packet.

"Flirting? With him?" You asked incredulously, jabbing your thumb toward Mark.

"And vice versa," Beck shrugged.

"You must be seeing things, maybe we should call a doctor?" Watney sassily took a sip of his drink.

"Hilarious," Beck replied. Chris had been fighting for you and Mark to get together for about as long as you've known him (which is a decent number of years, in case you were wondering.) Little did he know you had already jumped that fence. You felt bad for keeping it from him, but you were sure he'd understand given his thing with Johanssen.

"Oh good, you guys are already up." Lewis sighed "hey, can one of you wake up Martinez? He's not listening to a single word I say."

You gave Watney a sidelong glance. He groaned and downed the rest of his terrible space coffee. "Yeah sure, I can go get the bastard. I'll give him a piece of my mind while I'm at it." Mark stomped off to the bunks and Lewis followed him. You casually sat beside Beck, who gave you a knowing smile.

"You know Chris, it would probably happen on its own if you didn't push it so much." You mumbled against the rim of your cup in an attempt to hide a smile.

"It's obvious he likes you too. Practically written all over his face," Beck said. "Honestly though, you two don't even realize when you're flirting. It's kind of incredible."

You huffed, "Now's not the best time for all that, you know."

"I know, I know. Just, keep it on the table okay?"

"Whatever you say Dr. Beck," You snickered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an EVA to prep for."

Chris rolled his eyes and poked at the food on his plate, "you're excused."

~~~

"Alright team, stay in sight of each other. Let's make NASA proud today." Lewis announced.

"How's it looking over there Watney?" Martinez asked.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that in grid section 14/28, the particles are predominantly coarse. But in 29 they're uh... much finer. That should be ideal for chem analysis."

"Oh wow! did everyone hear that? Mark just discovered dirt! Should we alert the media?" Martinez teased. Mark glanced up at you, but you couldn't see his face behind the helmet.

"Hey, you better watch it fly boy. I'm working this grid too!" You laughed.

"Sorry, what are you doing today Martinez? Making sure the MAV is still upright?" You could hear the smirk in Mark's voice.

"Well, I'd like you to know that visual inspection of the equipment is imperative to mission success," Rick preached. "I'd also like to report that the MAV is still upright."

You and Mark giggled as you worked on the grid. "Watney, you're keeping your channel open, which leads to Martinez responding, which leads to all of us listening, which leads to me being annoyed," Lewis scolded halfheartedly.

"Roger that, Martinez the captain would like you to please uh," Mark looked at you for approval and continued. "Shut your smart mouth."

Rick cackled and you playfully nudged Mark on the shoulder.

"We'd prefer you use a different adjective to describe Martinez's mouth." Beck said from inside the Hab, resulting in even more laughter from the rest of the crew.

"Did Beck just insult me?!"

"Dr. Beck and yes!"

"I'm happy to turn the radios off from here commander. Just say the word." Johanssen suggested.

"Johanssen, constant communication is the hallmark-" Watney started.

"Shut him off" Melissa gave the order.

"No-" Johanssen cut him off. Mark tossed his little hammer in the dirt and looked back at the captain like she had just kicked a kitten. You patted the shoulder of his suit and urged him to get back to work.

"I'm sorry for my countrymen, Vogel." Lewis said.

"Accepted," Vogel shrugged and glanced up at the sky. "The storm... It's closer than Houston reported."

"We've got time," Lewis said. "Focus on the task at hand. This EVA's all about chemical analysis. Vogel, you're the chemist so you're in charge of what we dig up."

"Ja, Please dig thirty centimeters and get soil samples. At least one hundred grams each. Very important is thirty centimeters down." Vogel clarified, eyes back on his work.

"Will do, stay within a hundred meters of the Hab," Lewis said.

You worked in peace and quiet for a few minutes. You measured the grid while Mark hammered the grid labels. You could hardly wait to take samples. Mark was right, it was perfect for chem analysis. Unfortunately, your work was short-lived because Johanssen had some bad news.

"Commander, you should come inside. You're gonna want to see this."

"What is it?" Lewis asked.

"Houston has upgraded the storm to 'severe.' It's going to be here in fifteen minutes." Johanssen said.

You perked your head up to get a look at the sky. Already it was getting darker.

"Martinez, how's it looking?" Asked commander Lewis.

"Not good." He said.

After a moment of contemplation, Lewis made her decision. "Back to base."

~~~

The Hab shook and the sound of wind and debris outside only exacerbated the tension within. Lewis commanded everyone to put on their flight suits and you congregated around the screen, wondering if this was the end of your mission.

"Sustained winds over one hundred kilometers per hour now. Gusting to one twenty-five," Johanssen frowned.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"One fifty kilometers per hour, anymore than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez placed his hands on his hips.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it... It's gonna get worse before it gets better." Johanssen delivered the bad news with confidence. Silence fell over the group and you grabbed Mark's hand. You wished you could feel the warmth, but the gloves on the flight suit acted as a barrier. Watney met your sorrowful eyes. You'd have to end the mission before it even started. He let go of your hand and pressed you into his side. It was over. 25 sols early. You leaned your head against his shoulder and willed the grief to subside.

"Alright, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we launch." Lewis grabbed her helmet.

~~~

Outside the Hab, the wind was disastrous. Mark was nearly swept off his feet by the force of the gusts. He slammed into you, but you managed to keep him on his feet.

"Shit! Thanks." Watney regained his balance.

"Visibility is almost zero. If you get lost, hone in on my suit's telemetry! The wind's gonna be rougher away from the Hab, so be ready!" Lewis warned.

The Ares crew stumbled toward the MAV with ever increasing uncertainty. You had to lean into the wind to avoid being thrown backward. Mark wasn't doing much better. It didn't help that his mind wasn't on getting to the MAV safely, it was on how to keep it upright. Watney was smart, too smart for his own good.

"Hey," Watney panted. "Maybe we could shore up the MAV. Make tipping less likely."

"How?" Lewis Huffed.

"We could use cables from the solar farm as guylines. The rovers could be anchors. The trick would be getting the line around the-"

You choked on your scream as Mark was struck by a massive piece of wreckage, sending him off into the disorienting mist of dust and wind.

"MARK!" You screamed and tried to stumble after him, but you could barely see an inch in front of your helmet.

"What happened?" Lewis said.

"Something hit him!" Johanssen said shakily.

"Watney report..." Lewis said. You listened hard and prayed he'd answer. "Watney, report!" Nothing.

"He's offline, I don't know where he is." Johanssen reported as calmly as she could. You bit back a whimper as you shuffled forward.

"Commander, before we lost telemetry, his decompression alarm went off!" Beck said.

"Shit! Y/L/N, where did you last see him?" Lewis asked.

"H-he was right in front of me and then he was gone," you managed. "He flew off due west" You pointed.

"Okay, Martinez, get to the MAV and prep for launch. Everyone else, home in on Johanssen."

"Dr. Beck, how long can a person survive decompression?" Vogel asked.

"Less than a minute." Beck looked back at you. You could hear the pain in his voice. No. Mark couldn't be... He was just beside you a moment ago.

"Commander, the MAV's got a seven degree tilt. It'll tip at 12.3."

"Copy that."

He's alive, he can't be dead!

"Johanssen, Watney's bio-monitor sent something before going offline. My computer just says 'Bad Packet,'" Beck said.

"Give me a sec," Johanssen said.

"Commander, message from Houston. We're officially scrubbed. The storm's definitely too rough."

"Copy."

"Beck, I have the raw packet!" Johanssen said, "It's plaintext: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That's as far as I got."

Beck sighed and shook his head. "Blood pressure zero, pulse rate zero, temperature normal..."

Your chest tightened and your eyes burned. "Temperature normal?" You asked hopefully.

"It takes a while for the-" Beck swallowed. "It takes awhile to cool."

"Commander, tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gusts pushing it to 11." Martinez reported.

"Copy, if it tips, launch."

"What about you commander?"

"I'm going to search a little more."

"You really think I'll leave you behind?" Martinez asked.

"I just ordered you to. You four, get to the ship." Lewis replied.

"Let me help search commander, we'll find him faster if we-" Lewis cut you off.

"That's an order, Y/L/N. Go."

Beck nudged you forward. You reluctantly allowed him to.

"Johanssen, would the rover IR camera do any good?"

"Negative. IR can't get through sand any better than visible light."

"What about the proximity radar? Could it detect Watney's suit?"

"No way. It's made to see Hermes, not the metal in a single space suit."

"Give it a try," Lewis ordered.

"Commander, I know you don't want to hear this... but Wat-... Mark's dead." Beck said.

No.

Please...

Everything around you was a blur. You went through the motions from training. Strapping yourself in, readying your station, waiting for launch. You couldn't look at the empty seat beside you. You couldn't think about anything but your job right now, If you allowed your thoughts to that dark place, you'd have to be dragged along by the rest of the crew.

You couldn't do that to them. Not now.

Lewis returned to the ship and strapped herself in. "Still at pilot-release," Martinez said softly. "Ready for launch."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I'm sorry Commander, you need to verbally-"

"Launch."

You felt the bone-crushing power of ascent. The g's did nothing but forcefully push the tears from your eyes.

You wish it would have been you.

~~~

Mark Watney closed out of the mission log application and stared at the computer screen for a few minutes. He couldn't fathom the hopelessness he was feeling, it was too deep to swim out of. What else was there to do but sit and wait to die? Maybe it would be easier to just go into the airlock and open the doors!

Watney turned his head to a picture of you on the wall behind the computer. It was there among other pictures of the crew and their families. You were standing with your brother in front of one of those rickety wooden roller coasters at Six Flags. He felt a painful twinge in his chest. You thought he was dead and there was no way to tell you otherwise.

He was completely alone, had the whole goddamned planet to himself. Mark rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck..." he said. "Fuck!" he pulled at the hair on his head before looking up at the picture again. He wished he would have kissed you. He wanted to that morning when you were sharing coffee. He should have said he loved you. Mark hadn't said it in so long.

He knew you like the back of his hand. You were blaming yourself. Everyone in the crew was probably doing the same. He could barely stomach the thought.

Mark grabbed the picture from the wall and shuffled to the bunks. He was so tired and in a lot of pain from the stupid antenna. He was about to settle into his bed, when his eyes landed on yours. After a moment of deliberation, he hobbled into your bunk and pulled the covers up to his chin. It still smelled like you. He buried his face into your pillow and cried.

~~~

You sat in the dining area in the Hermes, watching as the windows slowly spun around. It had been about a week since the incident and you weren't sure you had any more tears left to cry. You did your best to keep on task during your waking hours, only allowing yourself to feel when everyone else was either asleep or taking the piloting shift.

Your fingers drummed lightly against the table, mingling with the beeps, boops, groans, and hums of the ship keeping you safe from the unforgiving vacuum of space. You thought about a lot of things. About Mark, his parents, the house he wanted so badly to buy, his favorite music, his plants growing in the botany lab... The one thing you didn't want to think about was his body, how it would be buried by sand and dust within the year, how Mars would never let it decay. You tried not to think about how if you had just reached for him, maybe he'd still be alive.

"Y/N?" A familiar German accent spoke. You tensed and dared a glance back at Vogel.

"Hey, what's up?" You plastered a grin on your face.

"I have noticed you've not been sleeping. You are... Okay?" He asked, lumbering closer. He was clearly very tired and you felt terrible he was here worrying about you instead of getting some much deserved rest.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm okay Alex, just... Can't sleep." You sighed.

"Have you spoken to doctor Beck? I am sure we have sleep medication on board."

"Oh I know... I just don't really want to bother him, you know? I mean, we're all going through it right now..." You shifted under his gaze.

"You are having bad dreams," Vogel stated. "You're afraid if you sleep, they will come back."

"How could you tell?" You peeked tiredly up at him.

"My little monkeys... before I left, some of them had bad dreams. A father can always tell." He sat down beside you at the table.

You felt your eyes burning again. You hadn't dared ask for comfort from your crew mates, not even Chris. Now that you were receiving it, you wished you had asked for it long ago. There was a hellish cocktail of emotions running through you: relief, sadness, safety, longing, despair. You were so relieved that Alex was here. You were sad to think about how deeply his loved ones must be missing him. You thought about what Alex said about his "little monkeys." Mark would have made a great father if he'd only had the chance.

"You love him. Very much," Vogel said.

"I did..." You whispered.

"You do." Alex grabbed your hand and the tears poured from your eyes. "You do..."

"I do," You let out a choked sob. Vogel pulled you into a gentle hug.

"This pain of loss we feel... It will never go away. But it will get easier to live with as time goes by. This, I promise is true."

"Thank you Alex." You whispered.

"You're welcome..." He patted your back and pulled away. "Now, shall we try some rest?"

"I'll try," you put on a brave face.

"And- what is it?-" He thought aloud. "When first you don't succeed-"

"Try try again," You said with a sad smile. "Words to live by."

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 23

So, I'm still brain storming the whole, "Mark Watney can only really make his potato farm last 90 days," problem. Can't say It's going too well. I'm surrounded by the stench of my own shit. Kinda distracting.

I've made the executive decision to take a long overdue break out in the rover. Sure, logically I know I should probably utilize every spare second on planning my survival right down to the last drop of water, but riddle me this: just who is gonna stop me? Not NASA, that's for sure.

It's funny. I came into the rover to escape the rancid poop smell, but it seems to have followed me. Turns out, I was the poop smell all along! If Y/N were here, they would have forcibly shoved into the shower. They'd say something like... "Don't even think about touching me until you smell like ocean breeze!" (What does ocean breeze even smell like? How do you smell a breeze?...)There are few things in life Y/N hates more than stink. Me being on Mars is probably one of them.

What I would give to see you right now. Even just a dream would be nice, but I guess that's asking too much.

I miss my parents a lot. Maybe that's an understatement. I haven't really let myself think about it, but sitting here in this cramped rover really has my mind wandering. I really should have told them about Y/N. Maybe if things don't work out for me, they could confide in each other.

I don't have much else to say. The calculations aren't done and quite frankly, I'm depressed.

I'll probably scrub this log from the system, It's kind of a downer.

~~~

You had been doing better. Getting at least 6 hours of sleep a day was an accomplishment and you were eating your meals, but a certain date on the calendar was growing closer. You made yourself busier and busier, but no amount of work would keep this day from coming.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 62

On Earth it's January 8th, which is a very special day. Our anniversary! It's official, we've been together for three years! Yeah, yeah I hear you. These logs are for work purposes only, but I promise no one's gonna see this one. Not even you.

I think about that day a lot. It was freezing outside and snowing everywhere. I don't even remember why we walked to the cafe that day, but I'm thankful for it. You were holding your hot cup so tightly and your coat wasn't nearly thick enough for the weather. You were complaining that the snow came early and I laughed at you.

I think we both knew for a long time that this would happen. A year at least. We kept ourselves just at arms length, on the brink of lovers without ever crossing that line. We never discussed it before, but we knew once the mission was over, we'd do it. We'd take that step.

I had wanted to kiss you all day. Want isn't really the word for it. How about craved. Desired? Yearned~

I wrapped my coat around you and you complained again, said that I'd catch a cold and it would all be your fault. The way you looked at me... Still gives me chills when I think about it. It's like I'm still standing on that sidewalk, snowflakes landing on my nose.

I told you, "I can think of something that'll warm us both up..."

You said, "Then what are you waiting for?"

I was right of course. I always am. I just didn't expect you to be so... magnetizing! Like damn babe, you had me weak in the knees! (What am I, a Disney princess?)

I'll be back with you someday. It'll be your anniversary present from me. You're welcome in advance. XOXO - World's Handsomest Boyfriend.

-P.S. You left your deodorant in the Hab. I've been using it. Totally not creepy.

-P.P.S. Who's the stinky one now?

-P.P.P.S. You better be prepared, when I get off this wasteland of a planet, I'm making up for lost time. You aren't gonna be able to walk for AT LEAST a week.

-P.P.P.P.S. I was talking about CUDDLING you perv~

(or was I? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

~~~

This had to be one of the greatest days in Mark Watney's life.

Contact.

Sweet, sweet contact!

[11:18]JPL: Mark, This is Venkat Kapoor. We've been watching you since Sol 49. The whole world's been rooting for you. Amazing job, getting Pathfinder. We're working on rescue plans. JPL is adjusting Ares 4's MDV to do a short overland flight. They'll pick you up, then take you with them to Schiaparelli. We're putting together a supply mission to keep you fed until Ares 4 arrives.

Watney could hardly believe it! Everything was working! They had known he was alive since Sol 49! His eyes were brimming and his breathing came out in short gasps as he fought to control himself. He used to take messages for granted, now they're the only tether he has to humanity.

He's not alone anymore.

His hands shook as he wrote out his message.

[11:29]Watney: Glad to hear it. Really looking forward to not dying. I want to make it clear it wasn't the crew's fault. What did they say when they found out I was alive?

Mark shifted in his seat. The reply was taking a bit longer than expected. He hadn't talked to anyone in so long. The thought of being so close, only to fail right in the beginning was terrifying. He wasn't sure he could survive that kind of disappointment.

[11:48]JPL: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to focus on their own mission.

What. The. Fuck.

Mark covered his face with his hands and released a frustrated groan. "You've got to be shitting me!"

You didn't know. You didn't know he was alive.

"What the fuck? Wha... What the fuck?!" He took a shaky breath and wrestled with his frustration.

[12:05]Watney: They don't know I'm alive? What the fuck? WTF? Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you?

[12:23]JPL: Please watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcast live all over the entire world.

They did not just say that.

After everything he has been through, there is no way JPL just told him to watch his language.

So, that's how they want to play it, huh?

[12:42]Watney: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck shit fuck! Fuck fuckity fuckfuckfuck! Oh look! A pair of boobs!-> (.Y.) How's that for watching my language, you goddamned bureaucratic felchers!

NASA got the message loud and clear.

~~~

Four months passed and you fell into a routine. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. It was predictable, which was something you were thankful for.

You took on Watney's role as the ship's botanist. You weren't as good as him, but really, who was? You couldn't match his skill even if you tried. Still, you followed all of his experiments. Took diligent notes and snapped as many pictures as you could.

Martinez joked that you took better care of the plants than yourself. It was one of those jokes meant to expose an underlying issue: You weren't looking after yourself. There was a shadow hanging over everything you did. The crew was experiencing it too. Mark Watney was one of a kind. Everyone he touched felt his loss so viscerally, so deeply.

You needed time, just like Vogel said. But that didn't mean everyone had to be okay with you beating yourself up like this.

Lewis knew better than anyone how you were feeling. As the Commander, she should have tried a little harder. And you... You were right there in arm's reach. Yes, Lewis knew how you felt only too well.

You heard a faint Knock in the doorway. You looked up from the camera and met Beck's eyes.

"Data dump will be completed soon. Care to join?" He smiled.

You managed a smile back, "Yeah, sure. I'm hoping I got something from my siblings. Maybe my niece and nephew too." You strapped the camera to the wall so it wouldn't float away, then you pushed yourself toward your crewmate.

"How about your parents?" He asked.

"Oh, that's a given. I can't get them to leave me alone," you chuckled.

You floated down to Semicone-A, where everyone else was already waiting for the data dump.

"Is it here yet?" Beck asked.

"Almost, it's at ninety-eight percent." Johanssen shot him a grin.

"You're looking cheerful, Martinez," Beck laughed.

"My son turned three yesterday." He beamed. Should be some pics of the party. How about you?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just some peer reviews of a paper I wrote a few years back."

"Complete," Johanssen said. "All the personal e-mails are dispatched to your laptops. Also there's a telemetry update for Vogel and a system update for me....Huh.... There's a voice message addressed to the whole crew."

"Play it." Lewis shrugged. Everyone gathered around the screen as Beth pressed play.

"Hermes, this is Mitch Henderson," the message started.

"Henderson? Talking directly to us without CAPCOM?"

Lewis raised her hand to signal silence.

"I have some news. There's no subtle way to put this:.....Mark Watney's still alive."

Your stomach dropped.

"Wha-" Beck choked.

"I know that's a surprise. And I know you'll have a lot of questions. We're going to answer those questions. But for now I'll just give you the basics. He's alive and healthy. We found out two months ago and decided not to tell you. I was strongly against all that. We're telling you now because we finally have communication with him and a viable rescue plan. It boils down to Ares 4 picking him up with a modified MDV. We'll get you a full write-up of what happened, but it's definitely not your fault. Mark stresses that every time it comes up."

You clenched your eyes shut as they burned painfully with tears.

"Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Send all the questions you want and we'll answer them. Henderson out."

Silence fell over the bridge.

"He...He's alive?" Martinez beamed.

"He lives." Vogel nodded excitedly and squeezed your shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Beck laughed. "Holy shit! Commander! He's alive!"

"I left him behind," Lewis muttered.

You covered your eyes with your hands, fighting to stay quiet.

"No, hey... we all left togeth-"

"You followed orders...I left him behind. In a barren, unreachable, godforsaken wasteland." Lewis scowled and trudged off the bridge.

Everyone stood around the console. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Y/N?" Chris asked softly.

"Are you okay?" Beth added.

You shook your head. You couldn't look at any of them right now.

"I need a minute..." you said softly before hurrying back out of the Semicone. You retreated back to the comfort of the botany lab. It was all so much to process.

First Mark is dead, you left him behind to die. Then Mark is alive, you left him behind to die. He doesn't want you to blame yourselves, it was terrible luck. He's healthy. He can contact Earth. Mars is a desolate planet. He's all alone. On an entire planet. You left him there. He will never be safe until he's back on Earth soil. It will be four years until Ares 4 arrives.

He will be alone on Mars for four years.

You left him there.

~~~

Y/N,

I'm typing this letter to you because talking to you relaxes me. I won't actually be sending this to you. It's not going to be professional in nature like the other notes I've sent you. (JPL says that you have received all of them, but have neglected to send me any of your responses. The only one I have gotten from any of the crew was one from Lewis. She invited me for beer to make up for leaving me on Mars.)

Anyway, some bad stuff happened. I wish you were here. Not because I want you to have been launched by an airlock. Never that. I just really fucking miss you. I really need you right now. I almost died last night. I had to do some serious surgery on my suit to keep me alive and I had to sift through the dilapidated remnants of the Hab to find a new one.

I'm so tired. I just want you to hold me. I'm so sick of all of this. Fuck Mars, Fuck the Hab. I'm so sick and tired of getting my hopes up and being disappointed. I miss you so much. You make every one of my bad days good. I know if you were here, everything would be okay again.

Why did this have to happen?

Mars keeps throwing curve balls at me, but I'm not giving up. I've got a lot to look forward to and I'm trying to focus on that.

-Mark

P.S. Your bed stopped smelling like you a month ago.

~~~

The crew of Ares 3 met in the Rec. A secret message had arrived not even an hour ago. One that would alter their mission by 533 extra days.

"Are we going to do it?" Johanssen asked.

"I won't lie, I'd sure as hell like to. But this isn't a normal decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We're talking about mutiny. And that's not a word I throw around lightly," Lewis explained. "We'll only do it if we all agree. And before you answer, consider the consequences. If we mess up the supply rendezvous, we die. If we mess up the Earth gravity assist, we die. If we do everything correctly, we add 533 days to our mission. 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong. Maintenance will be a hassle. Something might break that we can't fix. If it's life-critical, we die."

"Sign me up!" Martinez announced, causing you to smile. At least someone else was as enthusiastic to bring Mark home as you were.

"Easy, cowboy. You and I are military. There's a good chance we'd be court-martialed when we get home. As for the rest of you, I guarantee they'll never send you up again," Lewis said.

"If we do this," Vogel looked to you and back at Lewis. "It would mean over one thousand days of space. This is enough space for a life. I do not need to return."

You couldn't have possibly said it better yourself. It was like Alex was reading your mind.

"Sounds like Vogel's in. Me too obviously," Martinez laughed.

"Let's do it," Beck agreed.

"If you think it'll work, I trust you," Johanssen said.

Lewis nodded and turned to you. "Y/L/N?"

"You don't even need to ask me. Let's go get our boy," You smiled.

Wow. This is the first time you've smiled... a real smile, since leaving Mars.

'Hang in there babe,' You thought. 'I'm on my way.'

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 192-2

Yep, another secret letter do my dear, long lost love~ How predictable. I don't really care, today's been a great day. I can't believe you're coming back for me! Here I was, thinking I'd have to survive without you for four years. Then there you go, riding in from the sunset to bring me home.

Logically I know the rest of the crew had something to do with it, but I kind of like the idea that maybe I am a Disney princess and you're my knight in shining armor coming to rescue me.

It's like the story of Rapunzel, except my tower is a whole planet and instead of catching my hair, you're catching my MAV. Now that I think about it, the stories are more different than they are similar.

That hardly matters though, what does matter is that for the first time I actually feel like I'll survive. I trust our team with every fiber of my being, but most of all I trust you. I'm gonna rest easy tonight. And in the morning I'll start my work on the rovers!

See you in about a year babe! I'll be counting down the hours. Literally.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 426

Happy anniversary Y/N! You thought I'd forget? Never! You know why that is? Because I fucking love you, that's why!

Four years we've been together as of today, that's assuming we are counting the year we've been apart as "being together", (which I do.) Today I'm really beating myself up over frying Pathfinder with my drill all those months ago. It was my only form of communication with you and I royally fucked it up.

You'd think that cutting myself off from Earth, NASA and humanity at large would be what upset me the most. Nope, it's the fact that I can't send you a super sneaky secret anniversary e-mail. I also missed my parents' birthdays, your birthday, Christmas AND Thanksgiving. Twice. Also, fucking Valentine's day! I used to hate that holiday before I met you.

Anyway, as you can see, I totally have all my priorities in order! Also! I got you a present~ Since you have no way to read this, I don't feel bad spoiling it for you. I found a little rock. It's in the shape of a heart.

Awwww wow! That's cute, I just realized that I'm giving you my heart for our anniversary! To be honest, you had it a long time ago.

I miss you. I miss your smell, your eyes, the feel of your skin. Most of all, I really, really miss your voice. I just want to hear you. I've forgotten what you sound like. I'm scared If I didn't have this picture of you and your brother, I'd forget what your face looks like too.

I'm starting my long commute to Schiaparelli in 23 days. It'll be a two month drive. I really hate driving in the rover. But if it gets me to you, who cares? I'm stalling. I've got a lot of work tomorrow and I just want to enjoy today. I wish I was there with you to enjoy it obviously, but we can't all get what we want (least of all, me.) I've learned how to settle.

Speaking of settling, what do you think about getting married in the woods, or a big grassy field? I'd like there to be as much green as possible. No red or orange, we're talking the opposite side of the color wheel here. I can picture you walking down the aisle. I'll be an absolute mess, but who cares. You're the love of my life. Thanks for, y'know, coming back to pick me up instead of leaving me to die on Mars.

I hope you like the rock.

-Mark

P.S. I grew a beard and my hair looks like the 80's had a baby with a grease monster. You'd hate it.

P.P.S. I hope you're into pirates~

P.P.P.S. Y/N Watney... Mark Y/L/N... hmmmmm, so hard to choose!

P.P.P.P.S. We are never eating potatoes again.

P.P.P.P.P.S And ABSOLUTELY NO DISCO MUSIC!

~~~

You stared at Mars creeping back into view. The last time you were here, Mark was sitting beside you, arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. Maybe it wasn't your most subtle of moments, but how could anyone not be enthralled by the beauty of the red planet? Even now it was hard not to feel stricken with wonder.

Sometimes your mind played tricks on you. You'd see a speck of dust on the window and think you could see Watney on the surface. That was ridiculous of course, There is no possible way to see an individual person this far out. That didn't stop you from imagining it.

NASA had briefed everyone on the Martian's health, explained that he wouldn't look the same as the last time you saw him. You expected as much, but the thought still worried you. It wasn't that you were worried if you'd still find him attractive, there was no force on Earth or beyond that could change how much you loved Mark Watney. It was his health that worried you.

During all your back and forth questions with NASA that Henderson had arranged, you inquired about his health. They said he was doing well, but that he was stretching his little amount of food to its limits. That's what scared you the most. How would his immune system fare? How would he acclimate back to normal food on Earth? All of these questions went unanswered. NASA was honest, "we won't know for sure until he gets here."

"Mind if I join you?" Lewis asked softly, floating a short distance away.

"Of course Commander. I'd like the company," You said. It was surprising to realize you actually meant it. It'd been awhile since you wanted to spend time with anyone.

Melissa floated further into the cupola and settled beside you.

"Crazy to think that in a few days he'll be up here with us again..." Lewis said softly.

"Yeah..." you said softly, keeping your eyes ahead.

"I know how much you miss him... You two were always great friends."

You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you nodded. "Yeah..."

You could see Lewis looking at you out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was conflicted. "I'm really sorry this happened. I know it's been hard on you. I should have searched a little longer-"

"Commander." You stopped her from continuing. "You did all you could. You made the right decision. I wish none of this had happened, but none of this was your fault. It couldn't have been easy to make the choice, and I'm willing to bet that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have been strong enough to do it. I'm sure everyone else feels the same exact way, Mark included." You placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, that's... Thank you," Melissa smiled.

"We're a team, that's what we do. We keep each other grounded."

"That's actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about..."

"What do you mean?"

"NASA just sent the message a few minutes ago. They're letting us talk to Watney... Directly," Lewis said. You blinked in surprise. No matter how many times you asked, NASA wouldn't allow any kind of direct communication. You wondered why the sudden change of heart.

"Henderson thinks we need to remind him of what he has to look forward to, keep his eyes on the prize so to speak. At least, that's how he's been pitching it to the director. Anyway, the rest of the crew and I agree you should be the one to do it," she finished.

"R-really? I can talk to him?" You asked hopefully, hoping this wasn't a dream.

"Y/N, I can't think of anyone else he would need to hear from more."

~~~

Mark was waiting by the coms in the MAV for any final updates from NASA regarding the meticulous destruction of his ship, piece by piece. He had just finished taking out the main window and it was heavy as hell, even in Mars gravity. He was happy he at least had some time to rest after all that hard work. If he was lucky, maybe they'd wait too long and it would be too dark to get any work done. He could use a good sleep, it seemed like he was needing it more and more lately. Watney suddenly heard the telltale beeps that signaled an incoming message. He was expecting a barrage of questions about his progress, instead he got something so much better.

[19:22] Y/L/N: Hey, Mark.

Mark's voice got caught in his throat.

Y/N.

It had been so fucking long since he talked to you. His eyes burned and his hands shook. Watney leaned his head back in relief, thanking god for this incredible gift. "I just about gave up on you man..." Mark smiled to the sky before nervously typing back.

[19:23] MAV: Y/N!? Holy crap! They're finally letting you talk to me directly?

You released a sigh and covered your face with your hands. He was responding! Really responding! Everyone was looking at you. Beck beamed at you while Martinez watched on with interest. Lewis was waiting to see if you could handle it. No way you were gonna let this one chance slip through your fingers. You sniffed and wiped your eyes before responding.

[19:24] Y/L/N: Yes, NASA just gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We're only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-real time. Johanssen just set up the system and I'm testing it out.

Mark sighed and smiled. Level headed and professional as always. How you had such self control, he had no idea.

[19:24] MAV: What took them so long to let us talk?

You looked up at Lewis, silently asking if you could relay the truth. She nodded.

[19:25] Y/L/N: The psych team was worried about personality conflicts. [19:25] MAV: Why? Just 'cause you guys abandoned me on a godforsaken planet with no chance of survival?

Mark typed without thinking and as soon as he hit send, he regretted it. He didn't want you to feel bad, It was a joke. You'd understand that right?

[19:26] Y/L/N: Not funny. Don't make me come down there and kick you.

Watney let out a choked laugh. Half a chuckle and half a sob.

[19:26] MAV: God I missed you.

You smiled at the screen and pushed down the urge to hug Martinez behind you. You were really talking to him! He was only 35 light-seconds away! Suddenly you realized you were blessed with an opportunity even more amazing than just talking with him. You could ask him what you had been asking in all of your disregarded emails!

[19:27] Y/L/N: We missed you too. I've had to take over the botany lab. You'll be happy to know I haven't killed any of your plants...Yet. How are you feeling? We've gotten a few updates from NASA regarding your health, but nothing in incredible detail.

Watney chuckled at the text appearing in front of him. 'Cute,' he thought.

[19:27] MAV: Awwww, are you worried about me?

The crew laughed and you shook your head, swiftly adding your response.

[19:28] Y/L/N: Do I really need to answer that?

Mark snickered and decided not to tease you. He wanted to tell you all of his woes and adequately prepare you for how much he had changed. But he didn't want to put a damper on the mood. Luckily, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] MAV: I'm doing okay. My clothing feels a little loose and I'm craving spaghetti. I'm also in desperate need of a shower. Other than that, I'm just fine. Looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the crew.

Your smile fell. You were happy he was being at least somewhat honest, but you knew it was probably worse than he was making out to be. Unfortunately, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] Y/L/N: We're looking forward to seeing you too. I think it's safe to say a big group hug is in order, if I can get Vogel in on it that is.

Watney hummed at the thought of holding you in his arms. The image was so clear, yet so far away.

[19:30] MAV: At this point, I'd even settle for holding hands. Group hug sounds nice. How are you doing Y/N? I wrote you a lot of emails.

You grimaced and thought your next words through very carefully. With the crew watching, it was hard to collect your thoughts.

[19:31] Y/L/N: I wrote you plenty of my own. There was only so much air time to be used outside of helping you survive. My guess is they put priority on Commander Lewis' emails. Rightfully so of course. I'm doing fine. I've missed you a lot. To be honest, a lot is probably a huge understatement. It's hard to express exactly what I want to say over message.

Mark nodded. You watched him presumably die, leave his 'body' behind, mourn his loss over a period of months, find out you left him there alive, be unable to talk to him for about a year, and suddenly he was here reading and responding to your messages, but you have to limit the details so as to keep those private thoughts private. He couldn't imagine what he would do if the roles were reversed. What you wanted to say needed to be kept between you and him. He understood. There was a lot he wanted to say too.

[19:32] MAV: I know what you mean. I'll be there soon, then you can tell me all about it in person. And I'll tell you all about my space crops and my long voyage to the MAV. Have I mentioned I'm a space pirate?

The crew laughed and for a moment, it felt like he was there. Really there.

[19:33] Y/L/N: Good to know you're still the funniest person on Mars. [19:33] MAV: Thanks! [19:33] MAV: Wait a minute! Rude! Don't make me come up there! [19:34] Y/L/N: Don't threaten me with a good time, Watney. [19:34] MAV: ;)

You were about to make some really elaborate emoji out of parentheses and dots, when you saw a notification from NASA. Playtime was over. You scowled as you broke the news to your boyfriend.

[19:34] Y/L/N: I hate to cut this short, but NASA wants us to keep the line open. We'll be in touch asking for updates on your progress, but don't expect too much witty banter.

Mark's heart sank a little, but there was no use in leaving such a perfect night on a sour note.

[19:35] MAV: Figures. NASA never lets me do anything fun! Tell the others I said hi. [19:36] Y/L/N: I'll be sure to pass it along!

Mark's leg tapped nervously. He knew NASA was right about keeping the line open, but he really didn't want it to end yet.

[19:36] MAV: Hey, thanks for coming to get my sorry ass. [19:36] Y/L/N: No thanks necessary. We'd do it a million times over.

Watney knew you meant it. He could feel the warmth through the bland MAV text on the screen. He couldn't wait to be up there with you...But what if something went wrong? Fuck, don't think about this now! Everything's going to be fine! Right? But what if... There was always a chance, especially on Mars, that things would not go your way. And the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim at best. He needed to tell you. He should have said it a lot more. A whisper here and there in the hallways, maybe some stupid middle school secret code. Like hell he was going to pass up this one chance, consequences be damned.

[19:37] MAV: I love you, Y/N.

Your heart lurched in your chest. The room fell silent. Martinez lightly squeezed your shoulder. Your eyes flitted around the room to your colleagues. All of them stared with bewildered looks on their faces. What were you supposed to say? What if you got him in trouble? If he was worried about that, why would he send this in the first place?

'You know what, Fuck it,' you thought.

Watney watched the screen with baited breath. "Please..." He whispered. "Please."

[19:38] Y/L/N: I love you too Mark. Sleep well, we'll be there before you know it.

Mark released a cry of joy and typed through the tears.

[19:39] MAV: You too. Goodnight. [19:39] Y/L/N: Goodnight, Mark.

The line received no new messages after that. Mark rested there a moment before retreating back to the rover. Once the airlock had engaged, he removed his helmet and admired the picture of you and your brother he had taped to the rover computer.

He used to take those words for granted. Why say it when you could show it? He showed it to you as often as he could... At least he used to. You never made him question it for a second. You gave him compliments, brought him water on late nights, listened to his nerdy ramblings about plants and D&D. He'd help you to bed when you were too tired to stand, work out the knots in your shoulders while you typed. Over a year has passed and your grip on his heart is still firm. And when you said those three little words, all of it made sense again. Mark Watney would never again question the power of I love you. He was going to remind you every chance he got. He was going to ask you for it as often as possible. His mom and dad would hear it in every phone call, and no more excluding his friends. He loved them too. He would say it until the term loses all meaning, then he'd remember this night where I love you saved his life.

Mark took off his gloves and danced his thin fingers over the photograph.

"See you soon, baby..." He whispered, "I love you."

~~~

You pulled on your headset and took a deep, self soothing breath. In an hour, the love of your life was going to be launched into Mars's orbit in what could barely be considered a MAV. The thing was a Frankenstein version of the shuttle you had taken off the planet nearly two years ago.

You shook your head. What Mark needed right now was confidence. You could do that.

"How you feeling Y/L/N?" Martinez smiled over at you.

"Like I'm gonna throw up," You laughed.

"Anxious huh?" He smirked, "For the launch, or for your man?"

"Both," You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. Martinez and Beck hadn't stopped giving you crap for the I love you texts. You didn't mind too much, it was nice being able to acknowledge that side of your relationship with Mark. Unfortunately it made for some rather awkward conversations with the NASA administrators.

"You got nothing to worry about, he's in good hands," Rick said reassuringly.

"I know, we're all badass trained professionals with years of experience," you chuckled. "I can't help it. I'm built to worry."

"You've checked and double checked the telemetry. Johanssen confirmed all of your calculations. It's going to be a smooth ride for sure."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

//////////

Mark scowled at his reflection in the mirror and stroked his beard. He looked like shit, no way around it. He hadn't taken a moment to really look at himself for a long time and he couldn't say he liked what he saw.

"It's the end of an era," Watney said to nobody as he grabbed the razor. "No more captain blonde-beard."

Mark took his time shaving his chin and trimming the hair on his head. By the end of it, he still looked like shit but slightly less so. He felt a little more like himself at least.

He patted his chest to make sure the picture was still there, tucked under his uniform. It was there, along with his anniversary present to you. He slipped the headset over his ears and turned it on. It was nearly time to go. Watney pulled the suit on over his head and double checked if it was all on securely.

"I'm leaving Mars today, one way or another..." He whispered. "About fucking time."

//////////

"Fuel engine green," Your voice seemed to cause time itself to slow down. Not just for Mark, but for the entire world. "Engine alignment, perfect." Mark closed his eyes took a series of deep breaths, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. "Communications five by five. We are ready for preflight checklist, Commander."

"Copy." Lewis said. "Mission Control, this is Hermes actual. We will proceed on schedule. we have T minus two minutes, ten seconds to launch... Mark." The commander turned her attention to the man of the hour. "About two minutes Watney. How you doing down there?"

"I'm good." He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. "I'm anxious to get up to you. Thanks for coming back for me."

You sniffed and shot a smile to Johanssen, who sent you a grin of her own.

"We're going to make it happen. Remember, You'll be pulling some pretty heavy g's. It's okay if you pass out. You're in Martinez's hands."

"Well, tell that asshole no barrel rolls."

"Copy that, MAV."

"CAPCOM."

"Go," you said.

Mark's bottom lip quivered

"Guidance."

"Go," Johanssen said.

"Remote Command."

"Go," Martinez said.

"Telemetry."

"Go," you said again.

He couldn't fight it anymore, he let the tears fall.

"Recovery."

"Go," Beck said.

"Secondary Recovery."

"Go," Vogel said.

"Pilot."

Mark steadied his voice before speaking, "go."

"Mission control, we are go for launch. T minus ten," You said.

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

"Five."

Mark closed his eyes and focused on your voice. "See you in a few, baby..." He whispered.

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

The force of the blast was incredible, and growing more painful by the second. His breathing came out short and panicked as the Hab canvas rattled nightmarishly against the MAV. His panic only increased as the canvas ripped from the shuttle, exposing him to the full force of the MAV's thrust. He couldn't even scream. All he could do was watch the sky grow darker and darker.

"Watney." He heard your voice from far away.

"Watney, do you read me?" Your voice called again. His eyes drooped and his vision faded.

//////////

"Watney. Do you read?" You asked in the calmest voice you could muster.

"He's probably passed out. He pulled 12 g's on the ascent. Give him a few minutes," Beck said.

"Copy that." You said and turned your attention on the numbers before you. "I have interval pings. Intercept velocity will be eleven meters per second."

"I can make that work," Beck confirmed.

"Distance at intercept will be....we'll be sixty-eight kilometers apart..." You whimpered and buried your face in your hands.

"Did they say sixty-eight Kilometers? Kilometers?!" Beck cried.

"Keep it together, work the problem. Martinez, any juice left in the MAV?" Lewis asked.

"Negative, Commander."

"Then we'll have to go to him. Y/L/N, time to intercept?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, twelve seconds," You steeled yourself and focused on your coordinates.

"Martinez, what if we point the attitude thrusters all the same direction?" Lewis asked.

"Depends on how much we want to save for the attitude adjustments on the trip home."

"How much do you need?"

"I could get by with maybe twenty percent of what's left. If I use the other eighty percent... We'd get a delta-v of thirty-one meters per second."

"Y/L/N, Math."

"In thirty-nine minutes, we'd deflect....seventy-two kilometers! Use seventy-five point five percent of remaining attitude adjust fuel. That'll bring the intercept range to zero," You did the math quickly.

"Do it." Lewis said.

"Hold your horses, that'll get the range to zero, but the velocity will be forty-two meters per second."

"Then we have thirty-nine minutes to figure out how to slow down. Burn the jets."

//////////

Mark awoke to find himself spinning. Flashes of stars and the red glow of the Martian surface had him feeling a little dizzy. "MAV to Hermes?"

"Watney?" You gasped.

"Affirmative," he grunted.

"What's your status?" You asked calmly.

"Uhhh..." He winced and leaned back in his seat. "My chest hurts. I think I broke a rib. How are you, sweetheart?" He groaned.

"We're working on getting to you," you relayed. "There was a complication in the launch."

"Yeah," Watney dejectedly looked at the massive hole in the roof of his ship. "The canvas didn't hold. I think it ripped early in the ascent."

"That's consistent with what we saw during the launch," Lewis agreed.

"How bad is it, Commander?" he asked.

"We were able to correct the intercept range with Hermes's attitude thrusters, but there's a problem with the intercept velocity."

"How big a problem."

"Forty-two meters per second."

"Well..." Mark paused and tried to wrap his head around that number. "Shit."

//////////

You typed furiously, staring at your screen unblinkingly as you worked through all the possible ways to bring down the velocity.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Watney said.

"Of course you do, what have you got?" Lewis asked.

"I could find something sharp in here and poke a hole in my EVA suit. I could use the escaping air as a thruster and fly my way to you. The source of thrust would be on my arm, so I'd be able to control it pretty easily."

"How does he come up with this shit?" Martinez laughed.

"I can't see you having any control if you did. You'd be eyeballing the intercept using a thrust vector you can barely control."

"I admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: I'd get to fly around like Iron Man."

"We'll keep working on ideas," Lewis said.

"Iron Man, Commander. Iron Man."

"Stand by," Lewis temporarily cut contact with Watney.

You furrowed your brows at the screen, waiting for the correct course of action to jump out at you. Suddenly, there it was. "Wait! that's it!" you looked back at the Commander. "Mark's a genius! We could use the ship's atmosphere as thrust. We could blow the vehicular airlock. Seal the bridge and the reactor room. Iron Man... But bigger!"

"....." Melissa stared at you for a moment before addressing Alex. "Vogel?"

"Yes commander?"

"I need you to come inside and make a bomb," she ordered.

~~~

"I have visual, I can see the MAV," Beck said. "Jesus Mark, what did you do to that thing?"

"You should see the rover," Mark radioed. He was ready to get out of his goddamned chair, ready to get away from this hunk of junk that could barely be considered a MAV.

"Call out my velocity to Mark every two seconds or so," Chris said.

"Copy." You responded.

"Hey Beck, the front's wide open. I'll get up there and be ready to grab at you." Watney said.

"Negative, no untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you're attached to Beck."

"Copy." Mark huffed. Lewis was right, impatience would be the death of him out here and he had come too far to die now. Instead, he focused on your voice calling out the relative velocity.

"Three point one meters per second."

"Eleven meters to target."

"Six meters."

"Contact." Beck grabbed the canvas of the destroyed MAV. "Firm contact."

"You have fourteen seconds Dr. Beck."

"Copy."

Nothing could have prepared Watney for how he'd feel seeing Beck's helmet poking through the opening.

Pure. Unadulterated. Serotonin.

"Visual on Watney!"

"Visual on Beck!"

"How ya doin' man?" Beck pushed himself toward Mark, meanwhile Mark was trying not to have another emotional breakdown.

"I....I just...Give me a minute, you're the first person I've seen in eighteen months," Watney croaked.

"We don't have a minute," Beck clumsily collided with Mark. "Contact with Watney... Connected!"

"Restraints off," Watney called.

"We're outta here!"

//////////

"Houston, this is Hermes actual. Seven crew safely aboard," Lewis's voice echoed in your mind as you, Martinez, Johanssen, and Lewis pushed yourselves toward the airlock where Vogel and Beck were bringing him in.

Mark.

You could see his dusty helmet from the small window on the airlock. Already you were feeling an overwhelming ache deep in your chest. There he was, only a few feet away, behind this door. Your crewmates flew in and clambered for Watney.

"Hey guys!" He laughed.

You were frozen in the doorway.

His helmet came off.

Everything slowed down.

Everyone was smiling and laughing. High fiving. Quick hugs. They all wanted to get as far away from the smell as they could.

Your eyes met.

There were beads of what looked like water floating in the air. When did you start crying?

Mark held out his arms to you and you wasted no more time. He hugged you as tightly as he could with the bulky arms of his EVA suit. His face buried into your neck as he cried softly. "Y/N...." He whispered in a broken voice. "Y-Y/N?"

"I'm right here Mark... Right here." You cradled the back of his head, scratching that spot at the base of his neck. He always liked it when you did that

"I stink, don't I?" Watney laughed in between sobs.

"You do. You really do," You tried to keep up the joke. "But if im being completely honest, I couldn't possibly care less," you laughed.

Slowly, you pulled back so you could get a good look at his face. He was thin. Gaunt, and covered in bed sores. That should have been expected of course, It's not like he had anywhere to shower in the rover. He looked at you like you were an angel. He looked embarrassed, like he wanted to hide.

Your fingers danced over his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness. The crew watched on with pride and varying degrees of bashfulness.

Mark opened his eyes and stared at you pleadingly as orbs of tears flowed from their corners. "Y/N... Please..." He whispered.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

You grabbed the sides of Mark's face and smashed your lips against his. So soft... your hands are so soft and your lips are trembling. The heat of your skin, the scent of your hair. It was even better than he remembered. He couldn't breathe, he could barely even think. He wanted so desperately to kiss you back, to fall into your embrace until there's no space left between, but his ribs hurt like hell and his suit was in the way. Mark whimpered as your fingers tangled into his hair. Fuck. Fuck. 'Everything hurts baby, please don't stop kissing me,' he pleaded in his head. 'Don't stop.'

When you started pulling away, he reached out to pull you closer again, but winced when he moved his arm.

"Slow down, baby." You breathed and pressed a little smooch to his forehead.

"Alright love birds, I need to get Iron Man over here to sick bay."

"But-" Watney protested.

"No buts, you need an X-ray and a shower. Maybe three." Beck laughed.

Mark looked at you pleadingly and you caressed his face. "I'll be by once Beck fixes you up. I gotta help check the ship for damage. Okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "Don't miss me too much~"

"You seek the impossible, Watney." You kissed his forehead again and let Chris lead your Martian down the hall to his quarters.

"Wow," Martinez said "I can't decide if that was incredibly romantic or incredibly awkward."

"Shut up Martinez," You playfully shoved his shoulder.

"Honestly though, he smells terrible! You've got some nerves of steel, Y/L/N," Johanssen joked.

"My boyfriend just spent eighteen months alone on a remote planet, If he wants a kiss he's gonna get that goddamned kiss. Definitely not a quick one and definitely not a half-assed one. But I will say one thing," you grinned.

"What's that?" Lewis smirked.

"He's not getting another one until he brushes his teeth."

~~~

Mark settled into his bunk after what felt like hours. He finally had a bath. Five, in fact. The showers were on a timer to conserve water. He had to run that timer five times before he finally felt clean. The water hurt the sores on his skin, but he felt so much better afterward that he almost wanted to go in for a sixth one. Mark brushed his teeth about three times and got rid of all the tangles in his hair. He'd need someone to touch up the cutting job he did. Now that it was all brushed out, it looked astoundingly bad.

After his long grooming session, Beck took an X-ray and determined that he'd broken two ribs. Chris bandaged him up, gave him some pain medicine, made him eat, and sent him to bed for some well deserved rest. At first, Mark protested. He hated the idea of everyone else fixing the ship while their lead engineer was taking a nap. But he was painfully tired and painfully...well... in pain.

Hey! His bunk didn't smell like shit! That's a huge upgrade from his bunk in the Hab- no more thinking about that place.

With a deep groan, Watney eased himself into bed. Weird...his sheets smelled like you. He didn't mind of course, you always smelled nice. He had never been more thankful for the centripetal force spinning the ship. He would have hated having broken ribs in zero g's. He imagined trying to sleep with his body constantly moving ever so slightly. Sounded like hell to him.

Mark wondered what the others were doing. He hoped there wasn't something too terribly wrong with the ship. The subtle groans of metal didn't ease his nerves. He was never scared of the Hermes before, but he was just now coming to terms with that fact that the ship had taken some serious abuse over the past few months, not to mention the past few hours. Normally Hermes would undergo maintenance after each mission, but because they turned around to get him that maintenance was scrapped.

New fear unlocked: Dooming his team to die in space because they had to turn around and get him.

He almost thought the knocking on his door was the hull breaking apart into a billion little bite-sized pieces.

"Come in," he said.

He expected it to be Beck checking in on him, but he was relieved when you poked your head in with a shy smile.

"Heyyyy, look over there! It's the world's handsomest boyfriend!" You said with gusto.

"You are such a kiss ass," Mark laughed, which hurt his ribs, which made him laugh again from how pitiful he must look.

You scoffed as you stepped into his quarters, shutting the door behind you. "You calling me a liar?" you grabbed a loose storage box and used it as a chair so you could sit beside his bed.

"That's exactly what I'm calling you," he smirked. "Seriously. Have you seen me lately? I look like a... a popsicle stick with a bad haircut."

You looked him up and down. His sores looked a lot better after cleaning them. You had no doubt they would heal nicely. The malnourishment on the other hand... That might take some work. You and Beck already had a few dietary plans for him. You discussed it while you reorganized the chow hall. Still, Mark was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even now, those alluring blue eyes were mesmerizing you. And let's not forget that goddamned tantalizing smile.

"I'm looking at you right now, babe," You giggled.

"And?"

"You're still as gorgeous as ever. Just a gorgeous man who's been through some shit," you carded your fingers through his hair. Mark hummed and closed his eyes. "How are you feeling?" you whispered.

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Both."

"Emotionally, happy. Very happy. Best day of my life kind of happy," he smiled. "Physically, pretty shitty. The medicine hasn't kicked in."

"Anything I can do to help you feel better?" you asked warmly.

Watney sent you a smug look, "Oh, I can think of a few things that might help~"

"Not until your ribs are healed."

"Damn."

You leaned down and pushed his hair back so you could kiss his forehead. He gave you a dazed grin, "oh, what do you know? I feel better already," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "... I really missed you..."

"I missed you too Mark..."

"I can't believe I can... I can feel you again. I can hear you and see you and feel you... s'insane..." He reached up and cupped your cheek despite the pain. "You were always on my mind. I-I just really wanted... I wanted to make it back to you." He brought his thumb just under your eye to catch a stray tear.

You covered his hand with yours and pressed a kiss to his palm.

"I-I don't even know what to say... I've been feeling so much, I don't know how to... how to-" He swallowed hard.

"Everything's changed so fast," you reassured him. "But we aren't on the messaging system anymore. It's a long journey home, we have plenty of time to find the right words," you continued to run your fingers into his hair.

"I fucking love you... " he closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. "I'm gonna marry you one day, decided just now."

"Just now?" You snickered.

"No...Realistically, it was the first night we uh... slept together. Do you remember that?" Watney chuckled.

"Of course I do," you smiled, thinking of his messy blonde hair, searing gaze, and strong arms. He took his time with you that night, unhurried, attentive, and unabashedly vocal. "How could I forget?"

Mark shook his head and looked away to hide his blush, but not even his smile could distract you from it. "Sorry, sorry. Go on, continue!"

"Well, I uh..." He let out a sheepish chuckle. "Obviously every part of that night was perfect, but it's what happened after that really changed things."

"Oh?" you leaned closer, curiosity getting the better of you.

"You let me be the little spoon. I'm fine with being the big spoon most of the time, but you gotta be the little spoon sometimes, you know? No one ever let me be the little spoon before you... And when I woke up, you were still holding me." His fingertips danced down your arm, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. Once he reached your hand, Mark intertwined your fingers. It wasn't a conscious movement for him, simply muscle memory. But you couldn't keep your mind off of it. "I know I goof around a lot, but I can't stress how serious I'm being when I say... I have never felt that loved before. It was just... such a perfect night. I knew that you were the one for me well before, but that was the first time I really saw my future flash before my eyes like that."

Your eyes stung a little as you tenderly kissed his lips. "Want to know when I decided?" you whispered against him.

"Please..." He whispered back.

"Remember when I had that terrible flu during the first year of our training program?"

"Oh damn, yeah I do! You looked terrible, baby." Mark teased.

"I felt terrible. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and I definitely couldn't go to lectures... I was so worried about missing, even though the professors agreed there was no way I could come to class. You brought me a copy of your notes. The copy machine in the library was down, so you had to write them by hand... you even filled them with these horrible stick figure drawings," you laughed and Mark brought your knuckles to his lips and watched you, immersed in the sound of your voice. It was like he was trying to commit you to memory. You were doing much the same.

"Anyway, you stayed with me and you made some Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. You stopped by everyday until I got better."

"We were just friends back then," he whispered against your hand.

"I know, but every time I think about how much I love you... that memory comes back, playing on repeat."

"Say that again."

"That again," you smirked. Mark gave you a sassy eyebrow. "Which part babe?" you laughed.

"The uh..." he trailed off.

You lightly kissed his cheek, "I love you, Mark... I love you so much." You peppered his face with little smooches. When you finally pulled back, he was all red again and teary eyed.

"I love you too, Y/N," He whispered. You sat together in silence for awhile before Mark suddenly remembered something extremely important! "Oh shit! I almost forgot!" He winced as he reached into his pocket. "Happy late four year anniversary!" He finally presented you with his gift.

Your fingers trembled as you took the little rock into your hands. Mark's Martian heart stared back up at you, dusting your palm orange.

"Y-you remembered our anniversary?"

"Of course I remembered! Have I ever forgotten before?" Mark smirked.

"N-no, but..." You couldn't help it, you were crying again god dammit. "Thank you Mark, I love it." You beamed and kissed him so hard he lost his entire train of thought. He sighed and pulled you closer like he had wanted to do hours ago. Fuck. There you go again, playing with his hair like it wasn't going to rile him up. He moaned and reached for your waist, only to be pulled swiftly back to reality by the jarring pain in his abdomen. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mark." You pulled away quickly.

"It wasn't you, I was getting too carried away." He winced and took a deep breath. "My bad," Watney laughed.

You sat down on the crate beside his bed and settled for playing with his hand. While you took inventory of every new callus, Mark once again saw his future flash right before his eyes. You and him and that little house with the green shutters. He's gonna have the best garden in the neighborhood, you'll have all the time in the world for reading. No potatoes. No disco.

"Y/N... Can you hold me?"

"Oh baby, I would love to but the beds are so small-"

"Ouch, oof, oh! ow!" He scooted closer to the wall to make room for you.

You sighed and shook your head. "Mark, your ribs-"

"Please..." he whispered. Dammit! What are you supposed to do when he gives you the puppy eyes!? Beck is going to kill you...

"I can't ever say no to you, can I?" You laughed and scooted into the bed. "Seriously, you've got me wrapped around your finger."

Mark smiled as you tucked yourself into his side. He wanted to be the little spoon, but he couldn't turn over so his back was against your chest. He'd just have to heal quickly, then he could freely snuggle, (and do other things) without any constraints!

He turned his head so he could admire your lovely, beautiful face. You were already looking back at him, one hand holding your rock close to your chest, the other was draped carefully over his waist. Mark swears he's never seen anything more breathtaking in his life.

He slowly leaned closer- Fuck! His ribs hurt so bad, where the hell is the Vicodin when you need it?

You gently smoothed out the crease between his brows with your thumb and pushed his hair back again. Mark closed his eyes, succumbing to the bliss that came with knowing he would never be alone again. You kissed him again and pulled his blanket over the both of you.

"I love you, Mark."

"I love you too."

He felt your hand slip under his shirt and onto his stomach. You drew soft shapes onto his skin, but stopped when you felt the scar just above the hem of his pants. It was jagged and angry.

He swallowed.

Much to his surprise and relief, you didn't pull your hand away. You just kept tracing the new territory.

He sighed and kissed your temple. His body shuddered in relief. "Th-this isn't a dream, right? You'll still be here when I wake up?" he whispered.

You peeked your head up and smiled "I'm not going anywhere, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." You leaned in and gave him one more kiss. He smiled into it and finally allowed himself to rest his eyes.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Y/L/N..."

#mark watney #watney #Mark Watney x reader #The Martian x reader #x reader #reader fanfiction #reader insert #the martian #watney x reader #mark watney fanfiction #mark watney / reader #watney/reader

93 notes · View notes

raointean · 4 months ago

Text

Elrond Week Day 7 - Sanctuary and Departure

In which Elrond is stubbornly refusing to speak with his parents after arriving in Valinor and Celebrían has a clever solution.

Celebrían sighed exasperatedly as she noticed Elrond reading his book on their couch, pointedly not looking at the letter-writing materials not five feet away from him. “Are you intending to ignore your parents for the rest of time?”

Elrond hardly even glanced up at her as he responded. “No, of course not. I am simply waiting for them to reach out to me first.”

Celebrían pursed her lips and sank down into a nearby chair. Her husband had been in Valinor nearly a year and a half already; this had gone on long enough. “I do not pretend to know Elwing’s mind,” she began, treading lightly on the delicate subject. “But do you not think it is possible that she may be waiting to see if you even wish to speak to her after all this time? You were very young when you were… separated, and she knows this. Perhaps she is trying to be sensitive of the possibility that you have moved on and is trying to give you space so as not to cause conflict...?”

The ‘As you so often do?’ in her head remained unsaid.

Elrond shot her a look that told her he would not hear any more on the topic and said nothing. They were so much alike, Celebrían thought to herself, although she knew neither of them would admit it. She had only met Elwing once or twice, but even from that she could identify their similarities. Both of them were stern and intimidating people at first glance. Under Elrond’s commanding exterior lay layers upon layers of kindness and generosity and, while Celebrían did not know Elwing well enough to say the same of her, there was no way anyone could genuinely be that stern.

At both of their cores, however, lay deeply wounded, anxious, and insecure people. Celebrían knew from long experience that, while a certain level of healing was possible, the scars of such wounds stubbornly remained.

Upon their first meeting at a holiday party in Tirion, Elwing had pulled Celebrían aside as soon as she possibly could and questioned her about Elrond. How he was, what he was like and, most importantly, what his opinions of his mother were. Celebrían, taken aback by her directness and still recovering from her… ordeal, had unfortunately answered honestly: Elrond was occasionally curious about her, but usually changed the subject whenever she came up.

The woman had been heartbroken, but concealed it well. Celebrían had tried to reach out a few times after that, but Elwing had always respectfully declined. Now, Celebrían couldn’t help but feel that their current predicament was her own fault. If she had given a kinder report of Elrond’s feelings about her, perhaps Elwing would have the courage to reach out.

But it was no matter, Celebrían had a plan…

Not two seconds later, there came a knock at the door. Right on time.

Elrond rose from his seat to get the door and Celebrían followed close behind, saying, “That must be the geologist I told you about.”

Celebrían had met many of the elves that lived in their area, including a couple that lived on the far end of the valley. She and the wife, Amaurëa, had become dear friends and soon discovered that their husbands both shared a passion for rock, stones, and minerals. While Elrond’s fascination with such things had remained a hobby, her friend's husband, Elcair, had made a profession of it.

Though they had been visiting Amaurëa's family for the past two years, Celebrían had invited them to call at their earliest convenience to see what Elrond had brought with him from Middle Earth. It was a giant chest of stone and mineral samples, all meticulously sorted, cleaned, and cared for. Elrond had decided to bring it just in case there were elements in Middle Earth that were not present in Aman. Despite the chest being two feet wide and four feet long, he insisted that he had only brought his favorites.

Celebrían opened the door to see two elves. One, the woman, short and slender with a flattering green dress. She wore no cloak in the warm spring air. The other, her husband, stood head and shoulders above her, his athletic build honed by centuries of hiking, cliff climbing, and spelunking. He examined the ornately carved doorframe instead of looking Celebrían in the eye.

“Welcome!” Celebrían cried, reaching out to clasp her friend's hand. “How was your visit? I know you have been missing your mother terribly.”

Amaurëa stepped inside with a courteous smile. “It was wonderful. Ammë is well, and so is my new brother.”

Her eyes slid to Elrond, standing just behind Celebrían's shoulder and he was quick to introduce himself. “I am Elrond, Cel's husband. It is a pleasure to finally meet one I have heard so much about.”

Amaurëa's smile grew wider at his friendly greeting and Celebrían, who knew her well, could see her relax. “Well met, Elrond. This,” she gestured to her husband who had finished examining the doorway and moved into the hallway, “is my husband, Elcair.”

Elcair nodded to Elrond rather stiffly, looking almost nervous. “Well met.”

He didn't go on so, after half a beat, Celebrían invited Amaurëa to the sitting room. “Come, I think I still have some of your favorite tea blend. I daresay Elrond and Elcair should like to get to their rocks.”

At this, Elcair's eyes visibly brightened, although he tried to conceal it. Elrond also noticed and began leading him to his personal study. “Yes, I think we will,” he said to their wives. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Amaurëa.”

Amaurëa nodded her farewell and followed Celebrían into the sitting room. Celebrían set the tea to steep, inwardly rejoicing that her plan had gone smoothly thus far.

“How long do you think it will take them to realize?” Amaurëa asked her. She was in on the plan, of course.

Celebrían glanced in the direction of the study. “As clever as they both are, they are discussing rocks so, it could be some time…”

—----

“Do you think the geology of Middle Earth differs much from that of Valinor?” Elcair asked suddenly as they walked down the hall.

He was an odd elf, Elrond observed. Quiet, blunt, absorbed in his own world; Elrond could respect that, even relate to it at times, but still… odd.

“I am not sure,” Elrond replied, opening his office door and ushering Elcair inside. “I have not traveled widely yet, but what I have seen here in this valley is not at all different from what I am familiar with. Although…” he said thoughtfully. “Are there any volcanoes here?”

Elcair chuckled and shook his head. “Alas, no. I have never had the privilege of seeing them in person. My research on that topic has been limited to accounts of those who have seen them, and discussions with Aulë. He is a fountain of geologic knowledge,” he was quick to clarify, “but he has an unfortunate habit of failing to look at the bigger picture.”

Interesting, Elrond thought to himself. He had not thought that the vala of stone and metallurgy would focus on anything narrowly. Then again, Aulë was the creator of the dwarves…

“You are not missing out on much,” Elrond reassured him, unlocking his chest of geological samples. “I spent much time near the volcano, Oroduin, in Mordor during the War of the Last Alliance. I would be happy to share my observations with you, but I do not recommend going anywhere near an active volcano. It took decades for me to breathe easily again.”

Elcair opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly distracted as Elrond opened the chest. Several shelves unfolded from it: one for sedimentary rocks, one for igneous rocks, one for metamorphic rocks, and two for minerals.

They were separated by type of course, but their order was… unconventional when compared to most geologists’ collections in Middle Earth. They ordered their samples alphabetically or by density, but Elrond- Elrond ordered his collection by Music.

There was Music in everything the Ainur had created, though few were attuned to it. In fact, Elrond had met no one else but his own son, Elladan, who could hear the music of stone as he could. The igneous rock with its quick tempos and sharp sounds, the metamorphic rock with its melodies that bent this way and that, the sedimentary rock with its slow tempos and melodies that told the stories of a thousand different deaths, the minerals with Songs as varied as the colors in the air.

Elrond could listen to them for an Age if no one disturbed him.

Elcair seemed almost equally enraptured, but he eventually turned to question Elrond. They spoke for nearly an hour of volcanic mechanisms and of the types of stone it produced (Elcair found a particular affinity for obsidian), and Elcair told Elrond of the many advances he had made in examining sedimentary samples; separating them out and identifying them one bit at a time.

Eventually, during a lull in the conversation, Elrond asked him a personal question. “When did your family come to Valinor?”

It was entirely possible that he had been born in Valinor, but with a Sindarin name like “Elcair,” his family almost certainly had its roots in Middle Earth or Beleriand.

Elcair gave him a strange look, almost meeting his eyes. “Do you not know?”

That was… an odd response. Elrond did not know who he was related to, although perhaps it was a well known family, but Elcair had not mentioned any family name. “Apologies, I do not. I do not know your family name, and your given name only tells me that you are likely Sindarin or Silvan.”

Slowly, carefully, as if explaining a simple concept to a child who should know better, Elcair said, “My mother is Elwing and my father is Eärendil…”

Oh, oh. Of course! Elwing and Eärendil had been very young when they had fled Beleriand; Elrond had always known that. They had been young and in love and had lost the chance to raise their children; it made sense that they would try again.

In a way, Elrond was happy for them. Happy that they had been able to move on with their lives after everything that had happened, everything they had been through. Alongside that, though, an ancient pit of bitterness reopened in his chest at the thought that they had been able to move on from him.

As soon as that feeling bubbled up into his mind, he tried to push it away. It wasn’t fair to them and it wasn’t helpful to him. He had lived well over six-thousand years without them and become a powerful and well-respected man, loved by many. That would not change, regardless of what his parents thought of him.

“So, Celebrían did not tell you?” Elcair asked tentatively. He seemed anxious, worried that he had offended Elrond.

“No- No, she did not.” This whole time, she had known. Known and said nothing! And yet, Elrond could not find it within himself to be angry with her. He had been stubborn in his refusal to speak to his family, he knew, and if she had mentioned a brother, Elrond knew he would have refused to see him as well.

“You… are my brother, then?” Elrond mused.

Elcair nodded, almost shy now. “Yes, and we have a sister between us, Elinn. I thought you knew about her, but since you did not know that you and I were brothers…”

His rambling trailed off as Elrond tried to digest all of the new information. He was an older brother, with two younger siblings. His parents had had two new children after losing their first two. Even if he did reach out to them now, what sort of place would he have in that family? That of a bastard son with no ties but blood?

As if sensing his turmoil, Elcair picked up an oolitic limestone sample and pressed it into Elrond’s palm. It was highly textured, but the ooids themselves were smooth. More than that, its music was soothing like- well, like sediments coalescing in ocean currents. It brought him back to the present.

Staring at his shoes, Elcair asked, “So, since Celebrían did not ask me here at your behest, may I ask- Why have you not reached out to us yet?

Elrond sighed, examining the limestone in his hand. What he wouldn’t give to be an ooid right now; just a tiny ball of calcium floating in the sea. Things would be so much simpler. “I only knew Elwing- our mother - for the first six years of my life, most of which I cannot remember. Our father, I knew for even less time, and I did not know of you and Elinn’s existence until just now. I fear that forcing myself into… your family- I would simply take up space that isn’t there.”

Elcair looked over at him sharply, though Elrond did not meet his gaze. “Do not say that! Nana has been more anxious than I have ever seen her from the moment we got news of your ship. As soon as Atto returned from his sky-voyage at the beginning of last spring, he was much the same. Elinn has been urging Nana constantly to stop waiting for you to reach out and just write first herself because she wants so desperately to meet you! And I-”

He halted before going on, as if admitting some long-kept secret. “I have been wondering what you would be like ever since I first heard your name. For decades- centuries, I have listened at the docks for news and stories of you. I cobbled together an image of what my older brother might be like and, for a very long time, you have been my greatest role model, even though I have never met you.”

A breath of silence passed between them. Elrond could hardly believe that he had played so large a role in the life of someone he had never met. He knew that he was in history books and there were likely people who looked up to him based on their readings, but never so personally.

Elcair wasn’t finished. “I never even dared to hope that you would share my passion for stone, however much I idolized you. I- There has always been room in our family for you, Elrond.”

Elrond was nearly overcome. He had only just begun to process the fact that he had siblings (siblings! plural!) and this was just too much. So, he pushed his feelings aside for later, focused on the feeling of ooids in his hand, and fell back on learned politeness.

“I-” he was forced to pause and clear his throat, his voice was clogged with emotion. “I am sorry for not writing sooner.”

Elcair patted his hand, also feeling awkward and off balance after his burst of emotion. “It is no matter now. We have all the time in the world, after all.”

@elrondweek

#silmarillion #fanfiction #elrond #celebrian #celebrían #mentioned elwing and earendil #omc #geology #reunion #elrond is stubborn but we love him anyway #elrondweek #autism #elcair is autistic for clarification

30 notes · View notes

nyamadermont · 4 months ago

Text

When You Feel It

#FFF263 In the Meadows

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Avatar: The Legend of Korra

841 words

Now with art from @slowdissolve!

“Toph did this with me when I was very small, just after we knew I could earthbend.”

Lin draped an arm behind Tan’s shoulders, encouraging him to lay against the grass of the meadow overlooking the city below.

Lin knelt beside him, tall and proud as always.

How can she smile without moving her face? he wondered.

He folded his arms behind his head, the better to see her with.

Her hand on his chest spread a warm relaxation out from her touch, and he just knew he could lie there like that for hours, looking up at her. Her hair rippled in the light breeze while she barely blinked.

The long, soft grass tickled his arms as he spread them to either side, his palms up as if to absorb the sunshine. Above him, above her, the lightest, fluffiest clouds drifted lazily by.

Unlike her, Tan smiled with his whole face. He gently clenched his hands, flexed his arms and then laid them back on the ground.

“Open your hands,” she instructed.

He uncurled his fingers, allowing himself to feel his muscles adjusting his skin and bones.

“Now turn them over, and feel the ground.”

Slowly, he tipped his hands until they were perpendicular to the ground. The press of her hand against his sternum was warm and encouraging.

He let his gaze wander over her face, down her arm until he had to lift his eyes again. There was just the slightest hint of focus in her face. Her whole body was still, except for the wave of her hair. Their eyes met, and he watched her take a deliberate breath.

Her hand lifted from his chest and was nearly on his skin as she said, “Close your eyes.”

The frisson he felt as she brushed her hands across his eyelids flushed down his entire body, and his hands relaxed against the grass. She traced down his chest with her fingertips before returning the flat of her palm to his sternum.

“Feel the grass against your skin. Feel the stems, feel where they emerge from the ground. I know there are a few tiny pebbles that you can feel.”

She paused.

“I can feel the warmth of your hand as it radiates through the earth under your grasp. Your heart is beating slowly. You are relaxed, almost asleep.”

The more he relaxed, the more he wondered how he wasn’t just melting away like ice in the sun.

The complete safety he felt was so foreign, but so welcome.

“You may not know this, but the whole earth is just a big rock, flying around the sun. I don’t remember everything Uncle Aang tried to teach me, but I remember that. When I lay down on the earth, I can almost feel its curve.”

Her hand was gone again, but he heard the rustling noises as she lay down beside him. The back of her neck nestled against his elbow.

And that was definitely her hand, palm down, sadly enough, under his bottom. He felt it when she arched her knuckles just a little bit, and he resisted the urge to wrap her into a kiss.

“Below you are layers of soil, compacting into rock until it becomes bedrock. I’m not a geologist, but I can feel the layers below us.”

Her hand shifted so that it fit into the small of his back.

“Tell me when you feel it.”

He managed to keep the smirk from his face as his mind raced ahead. Oh, I’m feeling a lot of things right now…

His next breath felt funny. He held it, searching for the curve Lin had said she could feel. Even though he wasn’t holding his jaw shut tightly, he blinked rapidly and opened his eyes when he realized his teeth were rattling.

He snapped his head in her direction, where he met her eyes, waiting for him.

“That tremor is three layers down. Mom would make me lay there until I could feel it halfway down through the bedrock.”

He squeezed his eyes in thought, and she took pity on him. “You are feeling about as deep below the ground as you are tall. Toph wanted me to feel down as far as the tower on Air Temple Island is above sea level.”

He gaped, but she scoffed in amusement.

“She can sense further down than that, and out for a mile in whatever direction she wants to.”

Lin rolled onto her side, pressing her cheek against his arm.

“She taught me how to take the world in without using my eyes. It’s how I could decide to trust you.”

He wiggled his arm so that he could roll to face her but keep his arm under her head.

“So when do I get to thank her for that?”

Lin smirked and shifted her eyes over his shoulder.

“Is now good for you?”

Behind him, he heard an ancient voice say, “That’s my daughter you’re getting all oogie with. You’d better treat her better than the airhead did.”

#flash fiction friday #fff263 #in the meadows #flash fic friday #slowdissolve's art #linzolt #lin beifong #lightning bolt zolt #nyama's shorter stories #Red Jade

31 notes · View notes

boreal-sea · 6 months ago

Note

so about the "would you rather be in the woods with a man or a bear" question, if you've heard of it, and the subsequent discussion around it, what are your thoughts as an transmasc intersectional feminist? while I do understand it, I feel like my TERF/radfem bells were going off...

Man, without question. The only people who would answer "bear" have had their brains poisoned by radical feminism.

Like, if I'm lost in the woods, the bear is not going to help me forage for food, build a shelter, build up a proper fire to make a smoke signal, find water, or defend us against other predators like bears. The bear is going to either try to avoid me (if it's a black bear) or eat me (if it's a grizzly/brown bear).

If I'm just hiking, the bear is not going to listen to me excitedly identify the local birds based on their calls or point out neat rock formations, it's not going to get excited over cool mushrooms, it's not going guard my back while I go pee behind a bush, it's not going to take a photo of me when we reach the waterfall, it's not going to laugh and eat lunch with me. A dude will do all those things.

I'm a geologist. I've been in the woods with plenty of men, all of whom considered me a woman at the time. Maybe the women asking this question have just never been hiking.

#bear vs man

31 notes · View notes

incorrect-play-it-by-ear · 9 months ago

Text

Tumblr simulator in the Play It By Ear cinematic universe part 4

🐻 bears-right-to-school

I don't want anyone to worry but there are some. TRuly concerning sounds coming from the zoo a few blocks over. We're supposed to be visiting it tomorrow, but if the distinct cracking of a gate i just heard is anything to go by that might be postponed lol.

👈TAGlikethefilmlikethegamelikethefilm

I thought you were like an animal rights person? Call the police or something you freak

🐻 bears-right-to-school

What? What gave you that idea? also I am not a freak chill

👈TAGlikethefilmlikethegamelikethefilm

Your username???

🐻 bears-right-to-school

Oh. Ok so what I am about to say is NOT going to help me in the freak/non-freak discussion here

📺 Brendanlovestv

Me reading the notes on this post

963 notes

💻 all-we-need-to-do-is-start

today's mood

🛜 financial-plans-are-for-nerds

Rachel please tell me this isn't another one of your "broad strokes, gets people in the door" ideas. We need an actual product

💻 all-we-need-to-do-is-start

How many internets are there?

🛜 financial-plans-are-for-nerds

...one?

💻 all-we-need-to-do-is-start

You're gonna fucking love this

13 notes

💃 I-do-want

Can't wait to see where my bridesmaids are taking me for my bachelorette's this weekend 😍

💃 I-do-want

This has been the worst weekend of my life

#I didn't know steamboats were still a thing # I didn't know you could book one for a bachelorette's party #and I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THE HELL THEY AGREED TO LET US STEER THE DAMN THING #SEVEN MOJITOS IN #SURELY WHAT HAPPENED CANNOT BE OUR RESPONSIBILITY

5 notes

🍄 funguys-and-gals

OK I need help settling a debate at work. SERIOUS VOTES ONLY

NO secret thirst option/see results button, we die like poorly informed geologists

🪨 rocks-stay-on-during-sex follow

OP how do I put this... a peach emoji for the fungi option might have been a tad. ill-conceived

🍄 funguys-and-gals

GET OFF MY POST

52 notes

✈️ airhost-with-the-most

So I took you guys' suggestion and hired a PI to follow my wife and see if she is cheating on me, to see if that is why it feels like our marriage is falling apart or if there is something else that we could actually work on instead.

I did NOT expect said PI to spend approximately 85% of his time monologuing into the air. HELP can I get my money back???

#He just said something about falcons and absinthe #I am working a flight to Phoenix in like an hour I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS

23 notes

previous editions

#zach reino #Jess McKenna #play it by ear #dropout #I know I post a lot of dumb shit but this might be the dumbest #tumblr simulator

49 notes · View notes

tethysresort · 16 days ago

Text

Inspired by a poll, everyone who follows me gets to look at a rock per day for the month of October!

Day 26: We are in the home stretch! Today’s rocks are a pair of rocks from Mt. Aso, Kyushu, Japan. The main complex of Mt Aso is a series of peaks that are the resurgent dome of Aso Caldera. The entire area is a National Park and very pretty – lush and green with the good soil created by the caldera eruptions!

Mt Aso is an active volcano. Very active. Which meant that I was both fascinated and slightly perturbed when my grandparents announced that we were taking a tour of the summit. It’s a pretty big tourist attraction and there used to be (until the last eruption a few years ago) a cable car to the top. We took a bus, but it didn’t help my general sense of concern (as a rather timid geologist, I am not fond of big noises) that the cable car system was shut down due to damage from flying rocks.

The little cement bunkers mean to protect people in case of eruptions didn’t help the cause. (My father asked me if I thought they’d do any good and I commented that it would make it easier to find the bodies. He laughed.)

The wind howled, and steam poured from the vents to either side of the walking path. Out on the path, tourists ran back and forth taking pictures together of both the view into the active vent and the incredible view of all the clouds. (It would have been all of Kyushu if it had been a sunny day instead of spitting rain.)

Vendors had set up little wagon stalls and I stopped at one who appeared to be selling big yellow cubes of sulfur (from Indonesia I would suspect, not from Aso). I asked, “What is the sulfur for?”

The old woman running the cart laughed and said, “For your bath, of course!”

“My bath?”

She shook her head and gestured, “Grate it over your bath, its good for skin.”

Good for my skin or not (and I am allergic to sulfur), I couldn’t imagine that soaking in sulfur water would make me popular with anyone, including myself. But I thanked her for her explanation and bought a cube.

So today’s rocks are a little piece of lava from the top of the volcano and an entertainingly yellow piece of sulfur. And today’s pictures are from the adventure. (Pic 1 the sulfur and my rock, pic 2 the top of the volcano, pic 3 the active vent, pic 4 the silly cement shelters.)

#sulfur #mt aso #japan #cool rocks #tethysresort does “rock-tober”

9 notes · View notes

claudeng80 · 3 months ago

Text

Brains and Hearts

Garrack Gazelt/Lata Forzeno, "Theft"

(Possibly a prequel to Absence Makes The Heart)

Lata Forzeno has no need for any more reasons to avoid Wistal and the entire south of Clarines, but the weather is giving him a new one. Thankfully, the front room of the Wistal pharmacy is shady, a necessary respite from the summer heat. Even over the cheerful chiming of the door bell, he can hear the slam of a drawer somewhere in the back, followed by the patter of boots. It’s quieter than the Lilias pharmacy, but that’s not a bad thing. It always reminded him of a beehive, scholars coming and going at all times.

Thankfully, it’s a familiar face who rounds the corner. “Shirayuki,” he says, as brusque as always because if he let on that it was nice to see her, Obi would never let him live it down.

“It’s been a while,” she says back, not bothering to conceal her smile. “Do you need the services of the pharmacy, or did you just miss the smell?”

“That knight of yours is a bad influence,” he says. “You used to be so polite.”

“If you’re looking for politeness, the court meets on the other side of the palace.” Shirayuki looks as startled as Lata by the newcomer, who’s leaning in the door of a side office. She’s wearing a lab coat like it’s a fur cape, elegant from the crown of her blond head to the tips of her shoes. “Here we deal in facts.”

Before he’s even realized it, Lata’s folded into a court bow, and the sardonic smile on her lips accepts it as her due. Whoever this is, she’s interesting. “First words of sense I’ve heard all day,” he says.

Somehow his polite visit turns into an invitation to lunch, but the three of them have only just sat down to eat when a quiet shadow blocks the light. Lata scowls, anticipating an insolent smirk and a slouch, but instead the interruption is a tall, clean-faced man he doesn’t know. Or he doesn’t know him personally; even a recluse such as him recognizes the prince’s aide.

“Now?” Shirayuki asks, and the man murmurs another sentence in her ear. All the while he watches Lata and Garrack out of the corner of his eye, with the air of someone for whom orders have trumped courtesy. He knows he’s being rude, but it’s an inevitability. Shirayuki sighs, and he freezes; she pushes her chair back and he relaxes fractionally. “I’m sorry to leave you, but this is the only chance-”

She leaves her sentence as unfinished as her drink, following the knight out of the cafeteria and leaving Lata alone with a beautiful woman he’s known for a whole fifteen minutes. He’s heard of the legendary Garrack Gazelt, of course; one doesn’t spend any time in company with either Suzu or Ryuu without hearing the name regularly. He did read a monograph of hers once, just to get Suzu to stop begging, and her writing style was both clear and precise. He’s inclined to approve. However, he had pictured someone rather older and not so stunning.

“Ryuu said he asked you for advice,” she says, and it sounds more like an accusation than thanks.

“A time or two. He has a good head on his shoulders.” They both nod, united for a moment. “A little too serious, though.”

“Lilias has been good for that.” She stirs her drink; he’d thought at first it was alcohol from the way she sipped it, but from closer it smells like cold Lilias tea. Funny that the supposedly-exclusive recipe has caught on here as well. “I’ll grant you that it was a good decision for him to stay. You can’t have Shirayuki, though.” She brandishes her spoon, and he could laugh.

“I’m a geologist. What use do I have for herbalists?” Garrack cocks an eyebrow at him, and he can’t help but bristle. “They chased me all over the North. I had a veritable infestation of them. Besides, I’m not the one you should be worrying about. There’s no reason to accuse me of stealing her when that prince exists.”

“That’s the truth.” They both look at the door Shirayuki had followed the knight out, then she sighs and downs the rest of her tea. “You’re more my time than hers, anyway.” She leans back and eyes Lata again, and this time he’s not sure whether he should admit to the scratch on his shoulder (courtesy of an overhanging branch on the ride down) or the way his heart is pounding in his throat. She probably already can tell, by the look on her face.

“Are you staying long?” she asks, lightly.

He has a couple of appointments over the next few days, and at some point he needs to go make his bows to his mother, but as much as he is an idiot when it comes to women, he knows that’s not what she’s asking. He’s attracted to her; inexplicably the feeling appears to be mutual. “Long enough for whatever you have in mind. I am at your disposal, my lady.”

@ans-arcade

#ans rare pair scramble 2024 #fanfic

15 notes · View notes

headspace-hotel · 2 years ago

Note

Howdy! I've been following your discussions of ecology and spirituality and indigenous ways of knowing with interest! If it's alright I'd like to share some thoughts. A commonality I've noticed in a lot of the people who object to a lot of the things you're saying, and I think you've noticed as well, is that they seem to see science as a way of accessing reality without filtering by bias and belief. I think that idea comes from how we teach science in the US, and probably more broadly. We tend to teach science as a set of objective unchanging facts and truths without much detail or thought on how we came to know these things. My personal belief is that it would be far better to teach science as a process. Maybe have a class tracing the history of scientific ideas and understanding previous scientific or even pre-scientific thoughts and theories.

I've commented on your posts a few times and you may know I'm a geologist. As I've gotten further into my studies, I've had to change my idea of what science is. I now see it as a living process of making ever more useful simplifications about the world. The world itself is far too complex to understand even one aspect of it in its totality, so we observe patterns and try to simplify them to make models and rules out of them to understand behaviors of the world around us. Scientific models aren't always true in a simple direct way, but what they are is useful. If it isn't useful get rid of it and make a new hypothesis or conjecture or theory. I think one culture difference between different scientific disciplines is in how the subject matter confronts you with complexity. Much of the rigour that gives physics and chemistry their prestige for being able to explain so much stems from the fact that they remove as much complexity and impurity as possible. I think that baked into that sort of hierarchy of sciences is how close they are to pulling all of the different theories within the discipline under a universalizing theory (ie., quantum mechanics/relativity for physics being the best example) but I'm now off topic so I'll stop.

That turned into a bit of a stream of conscious mess, but I think I put down what I wanted to. I've been really enjoying your thoughts, and it's been (as you may be able to tell from the length of this) food for thought for myself in a similar way as reading Braiding Sweetgrass was for me. Keep it up!

basically, yes, correct. and also that, in times and places where "spirituality" and "science" are not culturally considered separate, you can't bring your "science is about the real world of real things, spirituality is about things that can't be measured or proven" framework because it Doesn't Work

The oldest mathematicians viewed mathematics as what we would today call "spiritual;" that doesn't make mathematics not real. Just because shamans with a framework that deals in the world of spirits use X plant for medicinal purposes, doesn't mean the plant doesn't have medicinal properties or that the shaman's usage isn't rooted in observations of what that plant does.

And if you went back in time to a Neolithic shaman with nothing in common with you and tried to explain the germ theory of disease to them, through a universal translator so both of you could understand, you could explain that mammoth pox isn't caused by a slight to the mammoth god by accidentally knocking over the mammoth god idol.

But you couldn't explain that mammoth pox isn't caused by evil spirits that leave the body of a mammoth when it is killed. It would be literally impossible to explain this. Because the Neolithic shaman's conceptual framework for "evil spirits" doesn't have a stipulation that it excludes microorganisms. It has no reason to.

And instead of trying to explain to the shaman THAT "demon=things that don't exist in physical reality" and THEN explain that demons (by this definition) aren't real, you would have to realize that you and the shaman are using different models for the same thing, and the shaman isn't fundamentally misattributing the cause of illness in any meaningful way, they just don't know exactly how it works.

#science

212 notes · View notes

buckysqueen80 · 3 months ago

Text

Warnings: cheeky Bucky, reader angst, mature content

PlayBoy Bucky

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The tip of the pencil I was holding, knocked repeatedly against the desk.

I couldn’t wait for this day to end.

I looked up at the clock, and saw that I had only another ten minutes before the bell would go off, indicating the end of the day.

I looked back at the students in front of me, all with their heads down focusing on their tests.

“You have five minutes to finish up! Everyone must hand in their test on your way out. If you are already done, you may hand in your test now, and collect your things and leave for the day!” I tell them.

Gradually the students eventually came up, depositing their tests onto my desk.

The next thing I know, the bell rings for the end of the day.

“Have a good weekend everyone, and remember, make sure you come prepared to go over Chapters forty-five through forty-eight on Monday!!!!” I yell over the noise of the rushing kids.

Once they were all out of the classroom, I started to pack up all my stuff, collecting the tests to take home and grade over the weekend.

As I was putting my paperwork into my bag, there was a knock on the door.

I stand up and turn towards the door, to see my handsome husband standing there.

“You ready to go, doll?” he asks, as I pick up my bag.

“You better believe it!” I tell him, walking towards the door, brushing my lips over his briefly, making him moan.

“Behave you!” he says with a chuckle, slapping my ass after I walked out ahead of him.

“I’ll be have when you can behave Mr. Barnes!” I retorted back with a wicked grin.

Bucky and I had been teaching at the same school for the past five years.

He was teaching here first before I moved to the area.

He taught history and P.E, also coaching the school's wrestling team.

Honestly, Bucky was the first one in this school to make me feel welcomed, and not like an outsider.

The staff, like the students, tended to have their cliques that they stuck too.

The first few days I started, I kept to myself, just taking in the environment.

It wasn’t until the fifth day of my first week there, that Bucky came up to me and started a conversation.

“Hi, I’m James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky. I coach the wrestling team, and teach history and P.E.” he says, holding out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Sapphirine. Sapphirine Owens!” I say, shaking his hand in return.

“Like the mineral?” he asks.

“Yes! My parents were geologists, so they named me after the mineral composite for sapphires.” I tell him, offering more information than I usually do about the origin of my name.

“So, where are you from originally? Because you don’t have the typical charm from around here!” he starts off.

“Oh, um, I’m originally from Boston, but I moved here about three weeks ago. I transferred from the school I was teaching at as a special request from Principal Rogers.” I told him.

“Boston, hmm. Never would have thought. You don’t have the accent!” he says.

“Yeah, I did a few years teaching in Canada as well. So somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost the accent.” I say with a chuckle.

“Well I’ve got to get to the next period. Glad to have you here. You’re a definite breath of fresh air in this place!” he says, standing up, offering a wink in my direction.

Not sure why it made me blush, but I could feel my cheeks getting hotter by the second.

Once he left, one of the other female teachers turned around in her seat and leaned over to me.

“Don’t let him fool you, hun. He’s got a reputation of loving and leaving. That’s why we have a hard time keeping staff in this place!” she says, turning back around.

“Um.. thank you Ms. ….?” I start.

“Ms. Carter. Sharon Carter!” she says, turning back again, offering her hand.

I carefully shake her hand, then stand up getting ready to head to my classroom.

Once the day was done, I beelined it to Principal Rogers office.

As I knock on the door, he looks up at me.

“Hey Sapphirine! What’s up? Come in!” he tells me.

“Hey Mr. Rogers,” I start before he interrupts me.

“Please, call me Steve. Mr. Rogers makes me feel like the guy from the kids show!” he says with a chuckle.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Ok, Steve. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the history teacher, Mr. Barnes?” I ask.

Steve sighs before taking off his glasses and putting them on his desk.

“Has he said anything to you?” he asked me.

“He just introduced himself. It’s what Ms. Carter told me after he left that is making me come to you. That he was the reason why it was hard to keep staff around here? Is that true?” I ask.

“Bucky does have a reputation of being a ladies man. I have known him for a really long time, and I can’t ever recall him having a serious relationship. And because all the ladies find him charming and attractive, when things don’t go well, they get upset and tend to leave.” he confesses.

“Oh!” I muse.

“Is there anything else?” I follow up.

“No, not really. I mean he is a nice guy when you get to know him. Well rather, if he lets you get to know him! He’s also very reserved about his life and shies away from people. I think more so out of a defense mechanism, but still, just be careful.” he tells me.

“I will. Thank you!”I finish, standing up to walk out.

A few weeks later, I was in the teachers lounge sitting at a table, drinking coffee while grading some papers.

“Non Connor, ce n’est pas la bonne réponse!” I say out loud, marking the paper with an x. (No Connor, that is not the correct response!)

“Ok so you are from Boston, but you can speak French?” Bucky says, dropping into the chair across from me.

I had avoided Bucky as much as possible at first, because I didn’t want to risk everyone being right about him. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought he deserved a chance.

So I found him in the halls one day and asked him if he wanted to meet in the lounge for coffee.

Since then, we kept meeting in the lounge, having coffee during lunch while grading papers.

“Yes, the perks of teaching in Canada for a while. That, and I tend to learn languages rather quickly.” I tell him,giving him a full smile.

“You’re definitely full of surprises!” he tells me, a smile spreading over his face with a wink, before taking a sip from his mug.

I feel my cheeks start to burn.

The rest of the period finishes, and I have to go to the next class.

Before I get up, Bucky darts up putting his mug in the sink, then comes over and leans over my shoulder whispering in my ear, “ You sure are cute when I make you blush!” before walking out the doors.

I had honestly thought the first time was a one off. He clearly knows how to get under my skin.

And I can’t say I don’t like it, because I kind of do.

But do I want to get involved with the resident playboy? I ask myself.

I push the thought aside until a later time.

Later that day, I was sitting at my desk. The bell had already rung to signal the end of the day, but there were some things I wanted to do before I left.

After I had packed up the rest of my stuff, I looked up at the clock and saw that it was four thirty.

I made sure everything was closed in the room before I headed out.

As I walked the halls heading towards the parking lot, I started walking past the gym.

There I could hear the sounds of the men's wrestling team in full practice.

I stopped by the door to watch.

There stood Bucky, motivating a student to get out of the hold they were in.

“COMMON!!! YOU GOTTA DO BETTER THAN THAT IF YOU WANT TO WIN REGIONALS!!” he yells.

Ok motivating probably wasn’t the best way to describe his teaching technique, but I had to admit, it got results.

The kid flipped their opponent off of them with a surge of energy, then all of a sudden was pinning them down for a one, two, three count.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT!!!” Bucky said, giving the kid a high five when they got up off the mat.

Just then, he looks up, and sees me standing at the door.

I quickly look away, and start the walk to my car.

I make it a bit of the way down the hall, and was just about to push open the doors when I feel a hand on my wrist, stopping me.

“Sapphirine, wait!” he says to me.

I turn around and look at him, my cheeks definitely blushing.

“Was there something you wanted back there?” he asks me.

“Oh, um, no. I was just walking past and saw the team there. I’ve never really seen a wrestling practice so it fascinated me.” I explain.

“Did you want to come back and watch the practice some more?” he asks me.

“I would love to, but I really should get going!” I say.

“There's practice again tomorrow, same time. You could come by and watch it if you want. Then maybe I can take you to dinner afterwards?” he says, looking down at the ground, suddenly nervous, uncertain of what I will respond.

“Sure Bucky, I’d love to.” I told him.

He looks up with a big grin on his face.

“Great! I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow!” he says, starting to walk backwards to the gym, unable to take his eyes off of me.

“See you then Bucky!” I say back, before leaving for the day.

The next morning, I woke up a lot earlier than my alarm was set for.

I got up, showered, then, wrapping a towel around my body, and one around my head, I walked to my closet.

If I was going out to dinner afterwards, I wanted to wear something that would be good for the day, and appropriate for later on.

I pulled out this ultramarine dress and held it up against me.

I did a quick sweep of my hair so I could see how it would look.

The color brought out the shade of my eyes, changing them from a slate blue, to the sapphire blue.

I smiled, knowing this was the dress I was going to pick, so finished getting ready for the day.

I didn’t see Bucky in the lounge like normal at lunch, so I sat there drinking coffee by myself, while grading more papers.

“Vous pouvez faire bien mieux que ça!” I whispered, continuing to grade the paper. (You can do much better than that!)

Once I was finished with the papers, I started to pack up my papers, and started to head out into the hall.

As I turned the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks.

There stood Bucky leaning up against the wall, talking to a small framed brunette who was quite busy giggling at whatever Bucky had to say.

With my cheeks flaming hot, and tears threatening to spill, I rushed by, not stopping when he called my name.

“Sapphirine! Sapphirine!! Wait!!” he says, catching up to me.

He grabs my elbow and whirls me around, forcing me to look at him.

“What?” I all but spit at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, confusion plainly written on his face.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER?!?!?” I all but screech at him.

He had the nerve to look taken aback.

“I’ll tell you what is the matter, Bucky!” I start, drawing out the sound of his name, as if speaking it was going to make me vomit.

“You ask me to come watch your team at practice for today, and asked me out to dinner afterwards. The same day that this is supposed to happen, you don’t show up in the lounge at lunch like normal, and when I’m on my way to my next class, I find you in the halls getting cozy with a brunette, who hangs off of every single word you say!” I blurt out, taking a deep breath, trying not to let him see the hurt I felt.

“Sapphirine.. “ he starts.

“DON’T!!” I raise my voice at him, then lowering it for the next part.

“I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t want to believe what was going around about you, how you are a playboy, a lady’s man. I was told I shouldn’t trust you, and it turns out that maybe they were right?!?” I hissed at him.

“Sapphirine! That’s my cousin!” he says, before I can say anything else.

“Oh please!” I say, recoiling away at his attempt at an excuse.

“Here hold on,” he says, running a bit back down the hall. “Dawn! Hey, yeah! Come here! There’s someone I want you to meet!!” he calls out.

The petite brunette came walking over, with a wide smile on her face.

She sticks out her hand for me to take.

“Hi! My name is Dawn Barnes!” she says, meekly.

I look at her, then at Bucky.

“Really?” I ask, starting to feel embarrassed.

“Yes, really!” he says with a chuckle.

“Sapphirine. Oh, now I feel stupid!” I say, trying to cover my face with my free hand.

Bucky lets out a low chuckle.

“Dawn is visiting my parents from out West. She stopped in to surprise me, because I wasn’t going to be able to make it to dinner at my parents place tonight, because I have plans.” he says, looking directly at me.

“Yeah,Bucky’s always been like a big brother to me, so when I found out he wasn’t going to be making it to dinner tonight, I had to come see my Buckaroo here.I’m sorry if it looked bad!” Dawn says, apologetically.

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” I said, looking down at the floor.

“It’s ok!” Dawn says.

“Great! Now that we got that out of the way,” he says, turning to Dawn. “ Have fun with my parents tonight, and the next time you’re in town, we will have to go for drinks or something to catch up!” he says.

“Sure, sounds like a plan! It was nice meeting you Sapphirine! See you around!” she says, turning to walk away.

I turn to walk away, when I’m pulled into an empty janitor closet, and the door is shut.

I hear the audible click of the lock being turned.

“W-what are you doing Bucky?” I ask, trying to keep my focus on him.

“Were you jealous?” he asks me.

“What? No!” I say, praying he’s going to drop it.

Unfortunately he doesn’t.

“You were!” he says, taking a step towards me, his voice low and his movements calculated.

I really didn’t have anywhere I could go, as he was blocking the door.

He’s now standing in front of me, and I can feel his breath fanning over my face.

“I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me, the way you look for me in the crowd. The way your skin turns light pink when I say something that makes you blush. And how that blush deepens when I wink at you. And now your reaction today!” he says, as his hand caresses my cheek, his thumb brushing my bottom lip slowly.

His eyes are glued to my lips, as his tongue comes out and darts across his.

I have a hard time concentrating on anything else, except the feel of his breath on my skin and his hand on my face.

His fingers curl around the base of my head, and pulls me so I’m pressed up against him.

I can feel how toned his chest is through his shirt, and it makes it much harder to concentrate, as all I can imagine is my hands running over his bare chest.

I swallow hard, causing Bucky to chuckle.

Before I can do anything, he’s pulled me closer, and his mouth crashes into mine,

His tongue, exploring my mouth, seeking out mine.

Instinctively, my eyes close and I drop whatever I was still holding, to snake my hands up his neck and through his hair.

He pushes me up against the shelving unit, as his hands roam over my body.

It briefly registers in my brain that I wore a dress today, and it must have registered in Bucky’s as well, as his hands roam over my ass and down to the hem of the dress, his hands bunching the material up so it’s around my hips.

He kneels down in front of me, pulling my panties down so I can step out of them.

Once I step out of them, he puts them into his pocket.

“They’re mine now!” he tells me, kissing up my inner thighs.

“Hold on to the shelving unit and don’t let go until I tell you too!” he says.

I do as I’m told, and barely have a hold of it before I feel his mouth taunting my dripping pussy.

He lifts one of my legs to rest on his shoulder, and as his mouth continues to explore its current location, he runs a hand down my exposed hip, around to my ass, and slides two fingers deep into my folds, making me moan.

He puts my other leg up on his other shoulder and keeps devouring me like he hasn’t eaten in forever.

As I’m holding on to the shelving, I want to very much run my fingers through his hair.

As I’m about to contemplate doing that, his tongue starts tapping on my clit, making me whimper and moan louder.

He pulls his face away, just long enough to tell me to be quiet, and buries his face back between my legs.

I’m so close to losing control, that my hips start grinding against his face.

It seems like no time at all that I’m moaning as my orgasm washes over me.

Bucky holds me still, as I come down off my high, setting my feet back on the ground, pulling the hem of my skirt back down, smoothing it out.

He stands up, wiping all the cum off of his face with a paper towel and chucks it into the garbage.

He bends over to pick up the stuff I dropped,and hands it to me.

We walk out of the closet, closing the door behind us.

“We can continue this after dinner if you’d like?” he says, turning to look at me.

“I’d like that, a lot!” I said, a blush heating my cheeks, although not sure whether it was because of what just happened in there, or if it was at the thought of continuing again later on.

I continued on to the next period, my mind wandering back to the janitor closet.

By the time the end of the day came, I was ready to go.

As I got to the gym, I saw the door was propped open, so I walked in and sat down on the bleachers.

The practice had already started, so I watched as he had them run drills and other warm ups before they hit the mats.

As they started their rounds, Bucky came over and sat beside me on the bleachers.

His hand went to my knee, turning it so it was palm up.

I placed my hand in his and watched the rest of the practice.

As the kids went to shower and change before going home, Bucky came back over to me, having changed into something more suited for dinner.

“Have I told you how much that color brings out that of your eyes?” he whispered to me, before placing a kiss on my cheek.

“I can now see why your parents named you Sapphirine. Your eyes look like sapphires.” he says, helping me up as the last kid left.

All I could do was blush.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made reservations for us at this restaurant downtown. It’ll take a bit to get there, but the reservation isn’t until six thirty, so we have plenty of time.” he says, as we drop my bookbag to my car before we go to his.

He opens the door for me, and I climb in.

As I buckle up, Bucky climbs in and starts the car.

We drove to the restaurant, and were promptly seated.

The menus were handed to us, and we were asked what we wanted to drink.

“We will have a bottle of your best Sauvingon Blanc please.” he says, while opening the menu.

The waiter went to fill the request.

The moment he left, Bucky looked up at me.

He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. His thumb brushes across my knuckles.

I look up at him, and see that he has a concentrated look on his face, like there is something he wants to say, but isn’t sure how to say it.

“Sapphirine, I know we are colleagues, and work together. I also know that you’ve only been teaching at the school for a short while, but I feel that I’ve spent my whole life hoping to find you.

To find the person who could tame my restless heart, and since you’ve been around, I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else, and my thoughts are consumed by you, every night in my dreams and every waking hour. I know one day, I’m going to marry you.” he says ,but holding up a finger before I can interject.

“I will marry you, it’s inevitable. I am that certain that you are the one meant for me. I’m willing to take it slow and do this the right way.” he finishes.

“I’d like that, but I have one question. When you say take it slow do you mean slow as in a snail on a turtle's back screaming it’s going too fast still, or slow as in what we did in the closet earlier?” I ask him pointedly.

This time I got Bucky to blush.

“I deserve that I suppose.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean as slow as you want to take it. You can set the pace for the entire relationship, including as to when you think we should have sex.” he says, looking back up into my eyes.

I decided to make him sweat it out a bit.

The waiter came back and poured our wine, before setting it aside, and taking our meal options.

Once we finished eating and paid, we headed back to Bucky’s car.

When we got to the passenger side, I was leaning back against the car, and grabbed Bucky when he came to open my door.

I kissed him hard, and with as much passion as I could.

“I won’t make you wait on the sex, but the rest we can do at a moderate pace.” I tell him, with a gleam in my eye.

He opened the door so I could climb in, and then hurried back around to his side.

“My place or yours?” he asks.

“Which is closest?” I asked.

“Mine is right around the corner!” he says, then proceeds to steer the car in that direction.

When we arrive at his place, he opens the door for me, ushering me inside ,and proceeds to close it, spinning me so I was up against it.

His lips come crashing down on mine, teasing and pulling at my bottom lip.

He reaches up my back to find the zipper of my dress and quickly undoes it.

I let it fall to the floor, revealing to Bucky that I am now naked.

He picks me up and carries me over to the couch, then goes around and makes sure the blinds are closed.

When he comes back to where i am, everything was slow and sensual.

He spent the whole night worshiping my body and I his.

The next morning, he drove me to my place so I could quickly get changed and ready for work then drove us both to the school.

That was the start of everything for us.

During the last five years, Bucky proposed, when we took our summer vacation in Paris.

He surprised me with a picnic in the park in front of the Eiffel Tower, where he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, which of course I said yes.

We got married last spring, and everyday things have been really good.

Today marks our one year wedding anniversary, and five years since the day he first came up to me in the lounge.

There were those that doubted that I could tame the resident playboy, but we ended up showing all the doubters.

As we head out the door for the day, a playful race starts after he smacks my ass inside.

I get to the car first laughing as he comes up behind me, attacking my neck with kisses.

With my back against the car, his hands on either side of me, I look up at him, and he gently kisses me, the kiss offering the promise of more to come.

“Happy anniversary Baby!” he says before kissing me again.

“Happy anniversary My Love!” I whisper back.

With that, we head home to celebrate, the day the playboy was tamed.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x you #james bucky barnes

18 notes · View notes