#hopefully it's coherent to anyone else

[moon-pepper]

I'm pretty firmly of the opinion that understanding history is necessary to prevent the worst parts of it from repeating, so I spend a lot of my free time trying to learn about things like colonialism, slavery, genocide -- and it worries me to no end to see how much the majority of people don't seem to understand even about events everyone is familiar with. I used to be baffled that anyone could genuinely believe slavery was "just how things were back then", but it makes sense when you realize that most history lessons only deal with what the people in power decided to do; public outrage about a particular action only matters in the historical context if that outrage led to actual mass revolution. Even before we get to the layers of whitewashing and propaganda constantly applied to history, there's an innate bias toward treating major political movements as though they just appear and disappear entirely at random. Which leads me to wonder...

Do fellow gentiles realize that the Nazis weren't new?

What I mean is that most coverage I see of the Nazi ascension to power in Germany presents them as this new, fringe group that came to power out of nowhere through solely violent means. Sometimes there will be explicit mention of the fact that antisemitism was extremely prevalent throughout Germany (occasionally even the rest of Europe!) prior to Hitler's political campaign, but oftentimes it seems implicit that mass antisemitism in Germany began when the NSDAP first formed. Even when the prior existence of antisemitism is brought up, the Nazis are portrayed as a new, unique evil; they did things that no democratic society would ever dream of doing, things that could only be achieved by either completely hiding them from the public or by threatening anyone who spoke against them. "Nazi" is simultaneously an easy epithet for any excessively cruel or restrictive person and a label that is far too severe to seriously apply to anyone because the Nazis were so evil in a way that nobody else was that nobody is truly deserving of comparison.

The thing is, though, that the policies put into place by the Nazi government in order to enable their genocidal end goal weren't original. Even setting aside the fact that they're often viewed as the inventors of genocide despite Hitler openly admitting that he got the idea from the treatment of Indigenous peoples by the U.S.A. (highly recommend watching this BadEmpanada video to learn about that), very few of the Nazis' beliefs or actions were original to the Nazis. The conspiratorial, racially-puristic ideas that the Nazis touted were derived from contemporary conservative thinkers all across the West, and many of the antisemitic legal policies they implemented as part of their Final Solution were practices that had been standard throughout Europe for centuries prior.

The infamous yellow-star badges used to identify Jewish citizens? Those were first devised and enforced the region (by both Christian and Muslim rulers) at least as early as the 800s; it was 1215 when Pope Innocent III declared that all Jewish and Muslim people living in Catholic lands should be required to wear identifying clothing with the explicit goal of segregating them from Christians. The Nazi ghettos to which Jewish citizens were forcibly relocated were inspired by ghettos which had existed to segregate and isolate Jewish populations for centuries; the only real difference is that these new ghettos were just preludes to concentration camps rather than being meant for long-term habitation. Just about every part of Western society had some form of restriction (mandated or voluntary) banning Jewish people from occupying certain jobs or limiting their presence in universities going back centuries before the Nazis existed. There were more than 350 years where Jewish people were not legally permitted to live in England.

The reason I bring all of this up is because, even among people who are conscious of Europe's widespread antisemitism prior to the rise of Nazism, there's a strong notion that the Nazis were so detestable because they came out of nowhere; that they completely defied the norms of the day and took their antisemitism to a level that even the deeply antisemitic societies of past Europe never would have.

In reality, the Nazis weren't much of an escalation -- they were a return. Legal segregation, expulsion, and even slaughter of Jewish people really only began to end when the Enlightenment came and public sentiment in the West began to favor secular government. The first country to abolish legal restrictions on Jewish people was Revolutionary France in the 1790s. Russia maintained its restrictions on Jewish citizens' rights up until it also saw revolution in 1917. The idea that Jewish people were responsible for all of society's ills and needed to be subjugated and exterminated was not a new idea that took hold of Germany due to its economic suffering after World War 1; it was a very old, very popular idea that most of Europe had only just begun to abandon and which was brought back in full force the moment it became politically convenient.

Consider how this compares to present-day politics. Jewish Germans were only granted equal rights in 1871 -- Adolf Hitler's father and mother were 34 and 11 years old, respectively -- and when the Nazi Party formed only 49 years later, the majority of adult Germans would have grown up in or been raised by parents who grew up in a world before religious desegregation. The Nazi Party's promise to the German public was not to introduce a newly bigoted society, but to bring back the bigotry they had grown up with and ensure that it would never leave again; they succeeded by using Germany's post-war suffering to "prove" their society was declining and blaming that decline on a recent major societal change, thereby convincing Christian Germans who were still deeply antisemitic that you see? we let the Jews have rights and not even fifty years later everything is awful. Many Germans did not need to be lied to or forced into supporting the Nazis because, to them, the Nazis were just fighting to revive the "Good Old Days" of their youths.

As a political party, the Nazis were functionally identical to all of the modern-day pundits eagerly proclaiming that racial equality and LGBT equality and religious diversity and welfare policies are destroying the country. Any period of significant economic downturn, any large cultural shift, any major catastrophe no matter the cause is automatically the decline of Western Society to them -- and the blame for that decline is always placed on the most relevant pro-equality social movements. What makes the Nazis unique is not their goals or the beliefs that fueled them; what makes the Nazis unique is that they're the latest and largest example of a group like them gaining power and then rapidly losing that power, which makes them simultaneously martyr idols for subsequent fascists and sacrificial vessels through which liberals can pretend the world's evils were expunged.

Any major shift in favor of granting rights to the oppressed inevitably stirs up a proportional conservative backlash with the effort of reversing course -- not just by revoking those new rights, but by making the previous inequality worse so that it becomes harder to undo again. If we care about ensuring an equitable future, it is vital to understand that the fight for that future does not end with a law being passed. It ends only when equality for all is so well-established as a social norm that there is no way to benefit from pushing for its destruction. Do not get complacent.

[sensesdialed]

can i talk about how much being around other spider people would mean to peter after he's been so incredibly lonely post-nwh. can i talk about it

[bylertruther]

very interesting how will is unfortunately considered this fandom's uwu soft boy (even if many claim otherwise) bc going from reading 8373663373 fics where will is talked over, not taken seriously, doesn’t believe in himself at all, or is even considered for a conversation on supernatural events is sooooooooo .... not canon at all LMAO. in s2, he's their spy. in s3, will speaks his mind abt the mind flayer, explains their situation, corrects them when they make an incorrect assumption, and says NO we ARE GOING TO and HAVE to kill this fucking clown srry max 🤚 and doesn't back down whenever someone has doubts. they don't look to el to explain things or to strategize an atttack, they look to will. like ur little soft uwu boy is the one grabbing these thick ass chains saying "yeah these'll do 😤💪" and confidently talking about boiling someone alive ffs. and they all go with it, ESPECIALLY mike who backs him up and shoots anyone down if they have any concern or doubt. it doesn't matter bc these are fictional characters, but like .... i just think it's Funny is all i jus think it's Fascinating how some people perceive him in ways that the canon material itself clearly disproves but like 🤐

[vixstarria]

A night at the inn (part 1)

A night of relaxation at the inn. Inspired by a cursed screenshot of Astarion looking loopy, drunk and high.   

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, tbc in part 2

Comfort, fluff, humour, banter, goes from very silly to very horny 

Bits that are definitely not canon that were written solely for my (and hopefully your) amusement. 

TW: It’s all very much in jest, but maybe give this one a skip if you’re struggling with any kind of substance addiction.  

Approximately 2,000 words 

AO3

“Don't be ridiculous, these silly druidic herbs have absolutely no effect on me, vampires have a natural immunity. Pass me the pipe again, I’ll prove it,” Astarion giggled uncontrollably.  

“Just hold on to it, friend, I don’t think anyone else will benefit from it,” replied Halsin. 

You, Astarion, Halsin, Karlach and Shadowheart were gathered in one of the inn’s rooms.  

Gale and Wyll were off doing whatever people who didn’t like having fun did. Possibly playing chess or reciting poetry to each other. And Lae’zel had had one look at your gathering before chk’ing, saying that someone competent needed to keep a cool head, and stalking off. 

You and Astarion were sitting crosswise on one of the beds, you nestled between his legs, your back against his chest. Shadowheart lounged on the opposite bed, with Karlach and Halsin settling on the floor between the beds.  

A scattering of glasses and opened bottles surrounded you, and a light haze hung in the air. Tadpoles, vampire lords, demons and gods could all wait until tomorrow. Tonight, for all you cared, all was well in your world.   

Earlier, Halsin had laid out an assortment of herbs, most of which you couldn’t name, and busied himself with mixing them in varying proportions and stuffing them into several smoking implements. Karlach had declined, saying there was no point and that she would stick to grog. You and Shadowheart partook in Halsin's ‘herbalist mastery' together with the druid. And now, to everyone's disbelief and amusement, so did Astarion. 

“What in the hells is in this?!” Astarion tittered, leaning back against the wall, his eyes shut and an idiotic smile on his face. You couldn’t look at him, lest it set off yet another chain reaction of giggling. 

“Part of it is moonflower, which mostly serves as an amplifier,” Halsin answered, cautiously. 

“And? What else?” You wondered whether whatever it was might help Astarion with his nightmares. The scent of the herb was vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place what it was.  

“Wait! I want to guess.” Shadowheart leaned over to whisper to Halsin. He shook his head at her suggestions. Once he whispered back to her with the correct answer she collapsed on the bed with a guffaw. “Oh gods... So it is official.” 

“Halsin...” Astarion croaked. “Halsin, I will stab you... What did you give me?!” 

“I had a hunch, but it was intended as a joke – I didn’t really think it would do anything.” Halsin almost sounded apologetic.  

“Well, spill the beans, what is he smoking that’s so damned funny?! Vampire dust? Cow dung? Some kind of goblin foot fungus?” Karlach was also growing impatient.  

Halsin shook his head, laughing.  

“It’s catnip,” Shadowheart managed, still doubled over. “He’s losing his mind on catnip!” 

Once Astarion regained his ability to speak coherently, you couldn’t get him to shut up.  

Astarion hardly ever took lead in group conversations. He tended to stay on the outskirts of discussions, albeit always ready with a quip or observation. You wondered if his newfound loquaciousness was a glimpse of what he might have been like some 200 years ago. 

It helped that Karlach was bombarding him with questions about vampirism, which he was ordinarily reserved about.  

“So what happens if you consume normal food? Can you drink?” she asked. 

“Well... Kind of..? Although I think the tadpole has had some additional influence. I can drink liquids without becoming ill, as long as it’s not too much. They tend to taste vile or like nothing at all, or not have any effect on me. Coffee smells amazing but tastes like dirt, for example. But potions work, somehow,” he rambled. “Solids are a complete disaster though”. He refused to elaborate.  

“And the wine?” she persisted.  

“Red wine is palatable,” he said, swirling some in a glass that he held in his hand. “But if you want better than ‘palatable’ you really need something of good quality.” 

“You’re just a snob,” you interjected. 

“That may be so, but this is about having something called standards, darling, I’ll teach you about them someday”, he said with a kiss to your temple, as you elbowed him. “But there are ways of going around poor wine.” 

Astarion took your hand in his, pressing his lips against it. 

“May I?”  

Once he had your approval, he carefully punctured the tip of your ring finger with a fang. You idly mused about how completely unfazed you had become by having your skin pierced, as he dripped some of your blood into his wine. 

“Now stir.” He licked the drops of wine from your finger once you were done, and had a sip from his glass. “Like adding honey to tea... Now it’s delectable.” 

“Freaks,” said Karlach, lovingly.  

The conversation moved to him debating wines from various regions with Shadowheart, a subject they were both perhaps unsurprisingly well-versed in.  

“How kind of Lady Shar to leave you such detailed knowledge of something that truly matters, when wiping out so many other memories,” he observed.  

Eventually, the topic changed to Karlach’s years in the Hells, and what it had been like to set just about everything she touched ablaze until Dammon’s recent assistance.  

“Could you do me a favour and hold my hand in yours for a moment?” said Astarion, leaning towards and holding out a hand to Karlach.  

“I haven’t done this in so long this still makes me nervous, you know,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “Sorry if I lose my cool and burn you.” 

“I’m sure I’ve had worse,” he replied humourlessly. “...That should do it,” he said after a short while. “Gods, you really do run like a furnace.” You wondered where this was going.  

“Now could everyone look away? I’m about to do something disgustingly sentimental.” 

Immediately, four pairs of eyes including your own were locked on him.  

“Voyeuristic pricks...” he sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

He ran the back of his fingers delicately down your cheek before cupping it in his hand. It was warm, almost hot, as you nuzzled into it.  

“Well isn’t that cute,” Shadowheart remarked into her glass of wine.  

Astarion wasn’t always cold to the touch, not exactly. He became warmer after drinking blood. His body was heated by sunshine on sunny days, just like anything else. And after spending some time under blankets with you he felt almost cozy to snuggle against. But he’s never radiated heat the way the hand against your cheek did now.  

“It doesn’t feel like you,” you mustered, looking into his eyes. He gave you a wistful smile.  

“...If there is any other bodypart you’d like me to warm up for Tav’s benefit, do fuck off before you even ask,” said Karlach, breaking the brief silence that had descended onto the room, and the tender moment was gone, overtaken by yet another uproar of laughter. 

Things quieted down as the evening wore on. 

“I wonder what Lae’zel is doing,” said Shadowheart, who had been silently gazing off into space and occasionally blowing smoke rings for the past while. “Probably something infuriating.” 

“You should go tell her how utterly unimpressed you are with her,” goaded Astarion. 

“I should... I will,” she said, suddenly getting up, determination writ on her face, exiting the room with a surprisingly steady step. 

Karlach sighed. 

“I better go look after her and make sure they don’t need to be taken apart. ...Or that no one else does, if they don’t.” She followed Shadowheart.  

“Nature calls,” said Halsin, also getting up. “And I don’t think anyone’s fed Scratch and the owlbear cub.” 

It was just you and Astarion, who had been grazing your neck with his fangs with increasing impatience. 

“Do it,” you said as soon as the door shut behind Halsin. Instantly, you felt an icy chill in your neck and released a small moan as he bit down, drawing your blood, his hands roaming your body.  

“I’ve been thinking of nothing else for hours,” he breathed hoarsely, once he had his fill. Having a miniscule amount of your blood in his wine and then being unable to sate himself more thoroughly would have been the ultimate tease for him. He really did not think that through, per usual.  

You could have offered him your wrist at some point, your companions had witnessed that on numerous occasions. But you knew you both wanted something more intimate. And private.  

You sank onto the bed with Astarion on top of you, as he continued to lick at the puncture wounds, to get them to stop bleeding.  

“Think Halsin’s coming back?” you murmured.  

“Of course he is. Haven’t you seen how he’s been looking at us?” He wedged his hips between your legs as he continued to suck and lick at your neck, more slowly now.  

"Oh, has he been looking at us in some particular way?” you feigned ignorance. Astarion raised his head briefly to shoot you a look that said ‘oh please’.  

“Do you want him..?” He rolled his hips deliciously into yours as he asked that.  

“Stop teasing,” you whispered. You knew he wasn’t going to let you do anything with the erection you felt pressed against you. 

“Never. Do you want him?” He gave you a mischievous look.  

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Sorry darling, I’ll try to do a better job at explaining.” He raised himself back up, his face hovering just above yours. “Do you want to feel his hot, hard cock pumping in and out of you, while I watch?” He studied your reaction closely. “Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you..?” 

“Astarion-” It wasn’t easy to make you blush, but somehow he always found a way when he wanted to.   

“Shh love, I already know everything you’re going to say.” Astarion raised his voice in pitch (resulting in something that definitely DID NOT sound anything like you) and returned to your neck, planting a kiss further down with each sentence: “’I love you, Astarion. I only want you, Astarion. I don’t think you’re ready for this, Astarion. You’re going to regret this, Astarion.’” 

“How about, ‘you’re intoxicated, Astarion’?” 

“Barely,” he scoffed. “It’s worn off.” He tugged at your blouse’s lacing with his teeth. 

“Or maybe it’s ‘no, I don’t want that, Astarion’,” you lied.  

He chuckled at those words and came back up to whisper in your ear. 

“My love... You’re forgetting I can hear your heartbeat. I can smell your arousal. Every time your breath hitches and your heart speeds up – I know. Any time blood suddenly rushes somewhere in your body – I know...”  

“That is an entirely unfair advantage,” you protested. 

“Yes, having a lover that anticipates your every need and reads you like a book is so, so tragically unfair, your poor, poor thing...” 

“And also it’s not what you said, it’s how you said it!” you continued. 

“Porridge,” Astarion whispered in his most seductive voice, grinding against you. “The philosophy and theory of divination, volume four. A bulging coin purse. Gale’s purple pajamas. ...Nope, nothing.” Astarion smirked, and continued in a more normal voice, stilling. “Now let’s try... You dripping wet and begging us both for mercy before the night is over.” He grinned wryly as you let out an involuntary whimper. “I thought so...” 

“You’ve told me yourself, you don’t want to share me with anyone,” you persisted.  

“It’s your heart I can’t bear to share. And he’s a wood elf,” Astarion said dismissively. “He may as well be a walking penis, who would get emotionally involved with that?” 

“You did not just call our honourable companion, the esteemed archdruid of the Emerald Grove a walking penis!” you hissed, choking on laughter, covering his mouth with your hand.  

“A giant phallus on legs,” Astarion mumbled stubbornly against your palm, licking it.  

You heard footsteps approaching the door.  

“Do you really want this?” you whispered, angling Astarion’s face to make him look you in the eyes, and releasing his mouth. “Be serious for a second.” 

“I want this,” he said, holding your gaze. “I really want this. As long as you do too.” 

The door opened, and you both turned your heads to regard the tall, broad figure that paused in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe.  

“Is it company or privacy you desire?” 

~~~~~

Part 2

More of my chaos gremlins

AO3

[moonstruckme]

Hello you wonderful, WONDERFUL creation of brilliance! I have another request for the 1k if thats alright.

I think it would be two ghosts?? But its reader x remus (again) where she know hes a werewolf without being told and uses halloween to tell/show him because she can see how guilty he feels for not telling her and scared to tell her.

How/why she knows and how she tells him is up to you love!!

Thank you love x (hopefully that's coherent, toddlers suck and ive only slept 3hrs 😭)

Thanks for requesting (and omg, I hope the toddler(s) become more manageable) <3

join the party

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus comes to the door looking endearingly rumpled. He’s wearing pajama bottoms and a wrinkled t-shirt, his hair is fluffy from lying in bed all day, and his pillowcase has left a faintly pink crease on his cheek. You gather all this from the split second between him opening the door and promptly shutting it in your face. 

“Remus?” you knock again. “Come on, let me in.” 

After a moment in which you can picture him sighing laboriously on the other side, the door cracks open just wide enough for you to see one eye, narrowed with displeasure. Were it anyone else or under any other circumstances, you’d really be quite offended. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

You hold up your bag. “I didn’t think you’d want to face the slew of trick-or-treaters bound for your house alone. I brought movies for us and candy for them. Or, well, the candy can be for both, actually.” 

Remus is silent for a moment, and you press at the door insistently. “Let me in, Rem.” 

He capitulates with a sigh, stepping back to let the door fall open. His apartment is dark, every curtain drawn, and it takes your eyes a second to adjust after stepping out of the sunlight. There’s half a dozen empty takeout containers strewn about the coffee table, and the space has the stale aroma that comes from lack of movement. 

Remus has that aroma, too, you realize as you step closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek regardless. He looks like he could use it. 

“Sorry about the mess,” he says dully. “I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Course you weren’t,” you wave him off. “How could you have been? You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Remus closes his eyes as if this conversation is already too much for him, and you feel instantly guilty. 

“It’s okay, honey,” you say gently, stacking the takeout containers to clear some space for your candy. “You’re allowed to take some time to yourself. It’d be nice if you’d let me know in the future, but I’m not upset at you. I promise.” 

His features relax slightly, a tension you’d barely noticed around his eyes easing. “Thanks, love. Sorry.” 

“It’s really alright,” you promise, taking him by the hand to pull him down onto the couch with you. “Listen, you seem like you’re not feeling well, so I know you might not want company right now, but would you be open to just having a relaxing night? We can watch Halloween movies and eat sweets, and I’ll handle all the trick-or-treaters.” 

“Yeah?” Remus looks at you with something between hope and sadness, and your heart breaks for him. You squeeze his hand lightly, like your boyfriend is a sponge that you can squeeze all the woe out of and force to absorb your love instead. “That sounds really nice, dove. Thank you.” 

“Course,” you say brightly, and you’re unable to resist pressing your lips to his cheek again before you turn back to your bag, laying your small collection of movies on the table. “Okay, we have some options.” 

Remus hums. “Well, there’s Halloween, the obvious choice.” 

“But too obvious?” you muse. “I mean, we definitely have time to watch more than one, but we only get to watch these at a certain time of year, love. Let’s not be hasty.” He chuckles, and your heart flutters. “I know The Exorcist is a classic, but it might be too scary for me, honestly. Um…Dracula is good…oh! This one’s my favorite.” 

Remus looks to where you’re pointing. “The Werewolf of Washington?”

You pretend you don’t hear the slightly hoarse quality of his voice. “Yup! It’s so funny, and I like that it’s technically a Halloween movie even though werewolves aren’t really scary.” 

He pauses. “You don’t think so?”

You do your best to appear blasé, knowing you have to tread carefully here. “No, of course not,” you say, as if the mere idea is foolish. “I mean, they’re dangerous, sure, but as people, they don’t really mean any harm. It’s not their fault.” 

Remus is being oddly quiet, and you babble on anxiously. 

“If I were a werewolf, I’d hope my friends wouldn’t care about me any less. It’s not like it’s me, it’s just something I have to deal with once a month. I mean, would you stop loving me if I turned out to be a werewolf?”

“No,” Remus says slowly, eyes narrowed to the point where they’re just amber. The circles under his eyes look really dark, you note with concern. You wonder if he hasn’t been sleeping. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” 

You take a breath, gnawing on your lip. “I think it’s more about if there’s anything you want to tell me.”

He slouches into the cushions, features slackening in resignation. “Seems like you already know.” 

“I’m sorry to do it this way,” you say genuinely, grateful that he hasn’t pulled his hand from your grip as you run your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. “I know it’s your secret, and you should get to tell anyone whenever you like, but I’ve known for awhile, and when James told me how down you’ve been this week—”

“What,” Remus says sharply, “did James say exactly.” 

“He only told me that you were sick. I asked if you might like a visitor, and he said he thought you’d rather be alone.” Remus sighs, tipping his head back against the couch. You can see the strain of the upcoming full moon on his face, his features pale and gaunt. 

“He didn’t have to tell me, honey,” you say quietly. “I guessed on my own. I know it’s a big deal, and I’m sure it’s been a massive burden for you." You run your thumb tenderly over the dark circles under his eyes. “I just wish you wouldn’t assume it’d be a burden to me, too. Give me some credit here, Lupin.” 

You feel his cheek twitch as he resists a smile, however small. 

“I don’t care, you know,” you go on, emboldened. “I just want to be there for you. It’s killed me not being there for you every month. I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Remus opens his eyes, and your heart swells at the fondness in his gaze, even if it's mingled with wariness. 

“Would you watch some movies with me, please?” you ask enticingly. “Or we can nap, or just sit here. Whatever you want to do.” 

“You sure you want to stick around?” he asks, and you know he’s talking about more than just tonight. “This time of the month is not pleasant. I’m not pleasant.” 

You let your hand slide from his face down to his shoulder, rubbing delicately. “I don’t need you to be pleasant,” you tell him. “I just need you to let me be here.” 

Remus sighs. “Alright, but we’re watching Halloween. That werewolf movie is shit.”

[forever-rogue]

Bee you’re so amazing and sweet and kind and I hope you know what a beautiful positive impact you’re on this site 💙

I saw you’re accepting Steven Grant requests and my heart is singing cause I miss him so much!!! Might I suggest sweet and shy Steven finding every excuse available to go see you at work but never working up the courage to ask you out until one day he thinks someone else will ask you on a date and he finds his courage to do it first?

AN | I’ve missed him! He’s the best and I’m glad he’s back😌

Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

"Your friend is here again," Cameron's voice caused you to look up from the espresso machine. You looked around the cafe in confusion, "well, your favorite customer."

"My favorite customer?" You echoed as Cameron laughed. There were a lot of people who came in on a regular basis so you had no clue as to who they could be referring to, "umm…who?"

"I think his name is Steven?" At the sound of his name your entire face lit up. Alright, maybe you did have a favorite customer, "so I was right!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lied, your entire face flushing with warmth, "he's just like anyone else. He just happens to be extra nice."

"He's been walking around outside for like ten minutes now," you peeked past Cameron and looked outside, indeed finding him pacing around. You couldn't help but giggle at him, "wonder if he'll actually come in."

"I'm sure he will," you certainly hoped so anyway, "maybe he's just waiting for a call or something."

"Or maybe his favorite barista is making him nervous and he's trying to get his act together," Cameron suggested as you shrugged innocently, "he's finally going to ask you out!"

“Oh my - stop!” you were laughing nervously and trying to hide your flaming face. You were definitely trying not to imagine him actually asking you on a date. It was a scenario you had imagined and daydreamed of about a thousand times before. But never once had you allowed yourself to believe that it might actually come true. And yet…you shook your head to yourself as you aggressively scrubbed a spot on the counter that you hoped was burnt chocolate and not anything else. You could feel Cameron’s eyes focused on you, “listen. I-I’m not going to flatter myself and think that he might actually like me.”

“And just why not, miss ma’am?” they asked as you shrugged, mumbling something under your breath. They were still waiting for your answer as you turned around and groaned loudly, “I’m telling you, and I would never lie to you, that is something is definitely there between the two of you. Like a spark or something.”

“Cam-” you cast another look outside and found Steven still there. Utter panic and confusion was etched onto his handsome face and you made a small sound of concern. You hoped that nothing was wrong, “he’s like a friend at best.”

“But he could be more if you’d both stop being such weenies,” and yeah, you couldn’t deny that they weren’t necessarily wrong. 

“I’m just…I’m gonna go and make sure he’s okay,” you whipped off your apron and tossed it on the counter before walking past the counter and outside the small patio area. At the sound of the bell twinkling over the door, Steven turned around and looked and was immediately surprised to see you standing there. You smiled softly and held up your hand in a small wave, “hey Steven.”

“H-hi,” he stammered nervously, cheeks immediately darkening as he took you in. The reality was that he’d been trying to work up the courage to come in and see you, and hopefully not make a fool of himself. It seemed like every time he saw, his brain turned to absolute mush and he wasn’t able to form even a single coherent sentence. A part of him that had hoped that by now he’d be able to actually hold a conversation with you but that seemed like an impossible challenge. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked softly and his eyes widened in panic, “I-I don’t mean to pry it was just that we noticed you pacing around. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yes, of course,” he wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed by the fact that you’d noticed him pacing, or more touched by the idea that you cared enough to go and check on him. Both…definitely both. You visibly relaxed at the small smile on his face, “I was just…thinking.”

“Oh! Well, we’ve all been there,” the temptation to ask what he was thinking about was almost too great, but you held your tongue. You weren’t sure if he had actually planned on coming inside or if he was going to leave now, but you weren’t ready to part from him, “do you want to come in and I can make you a tea? We’ve just finished baking some fresh biscuits if you’d care to sample.”

“You want me to come in?” he pointed at himself, almost in disbelief and wanting to make sure you were sure. He wouldn’t flatter himself with the idea that you wanted to spend time with him. But what if…

“Yes, silly! Who else?” you put your hand on his arm and gently motioned for him to follow you. Once reality caught up with him, he smiled and eagerly followed into the warm, cozy cafe. He’d learned to love spending time here, especially whenever his schedule coincided with yours, “c’mon!”

“Right behind you,” he promised gently. He was at the point where he was pretty sure that he’d already follow you whenever you went. And that realization was both exciting and terrifying, “right behind you.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Steven, sweet, shy Steven had grown very fond of you. Or in love with you as Marc liked to put. He didn’t necessarily agree or disagree on that account. He often came in when you were working if his schedule coincided with yours. He’d more or less memorized the days and times you worked but in truth it had been accidental. He was keenly aware of a lot of things and you had just become such a regular part of his life and he had become very attuned to you. 

It was a dreary afternoon when Steven got off work, and on a weekend on top of it, he decided he could do with a warm afternoon pick-me-up. And he’d get to see you, which was a definite pick-me-up on its own. There was a definite spring to his step as he made his way over to your little cafe, and he even allowed himself to daydream of asking you on a date. It was something that he’d thought about often, more than he ever dared to admit, but he just couldn’t manage to turn into a reality. 

Marc had even tried to coach him on it, encouraging him to finally ask you instead of just talking about it. Steven had almost even felt ready to do it, but then he just…couldn’t. He’d see your pretty face and that sugar sweet smile and he’d practically melt into a puddle. A puddle that couldn’t do much more than stare longingly at times. 

But today felt different. Today felt like the day he might actually have the courage in his bones to ask you. Maybe it was an overinflated sense of self or something in the air but it all just felt so right. Feeling extra bold, he even allowed himself to stop at one of the small street vendors and purchase a small bouquet of flowers. You’d mentioned it once in passing that you liked daisies more than anything and once he spotted them he knew he was going to grab them for you.

By the time he made his way into the cafe, his eyes were already scanning the place for you. When he spotted you, he grew delighted and was ready to rush over. When he realized the current situation you were in, he stopped in his tracks and inhaled sharply. 

You were standing at the counter, leaning on your elbows as you chatted away with some customer. A very handsome customer from what Steven could discern from only seeing his backside. His heart practically dropped into his stomach at the sweet expression on your face. You were clearly invested into the conversation and that made him take a few steps back and contemplate running out the door. 

As thought you had some kind of sixth sense for him, you looked up and locked eyes with him. His big, brown eyes softened but the expression on his face was nothing short of panic as you waved cheerily at him. He held up the flowers in return as your curiosity piqued - who were the flowers for? You, a part of your heart secretly wished. 

“Hi Steven!” you excused yourself from the other - a friend maybe? - and went over to him, “fancy meeting you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” he managed to tease in return, heart beating wildly inside his chest. You always managed to make him nervous, butterflies exploding in his stomach and heart practically stopping. He felt more like a boy rather than a grown man, but it was a feeling he still managed to love and crave. He looked down at the flowers in his hands and back at your inquisitive eyes before deciding to just do it. It was now or never, “t-these are for you.”

“For me?” and yeah. He instantly knew he’d made the right decision as soon as the simple question escaped your lips. He nodded shyly before handing them over to you, “oh my goodness. They’re daisies! I love them - Steven, I…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he stammered over his words and found it almost impossible to meet your eyes. He was sure he would have melted into a puddle then and there, “I should umm… I can see-”

“Come on,” you were almost pleading with him. And honestly, who was he to say no to you? You almost skipped behind the counter, grabbing a large pitch and filling it with cool water before putting your new flowers into it. Each step was done with gentle reference before you turned back to him, “what can I make you?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he leaned against the counter and tried to play you off, but you weren’t having it. You put your hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze, and his heart almost stopped.

“Don’t even try that on me, Steven,” you insisted and he just made a small sound in response, “your regular or can I try something new and surprise you?”

“Surprise me,” he squeaked as you busied yourself with making him something special. You continually surprised him and it was one of the things he was coming to adore about you. He decided to be bold and push his luck and see if he could get a little information about the man that you had been chatting to. Just you know…out of sheer curiosity. For science…or something like that,  “busy day?”

“Oh you know, just the usual,” you waved your hand around, brow furrowed in concentration and tongue peeking out of your mouth, “average weekend afternoon. Lots of tourists and all that. What about you?”

“There’s a new exhibit on the old kingdom of Egypt at the museum,” he tried to contain his excitement; he loved talking about his job and he knew you liked hearing about it but he didn’t want to bore you either. He was still trying to figure out where the line was, “so lots of crowds, but they all seemed excited, which makes it worthwhile.”

“That’s great,” you smiled at it, handing him the beverage you had made specially for him, “I’d love to see sometime! I’ll have to come by sometime when you’re working, and you can give me the tour. If you’d like…”

“I’d love that,” his entire face lit up as you made up your mind that you would see him as soon as got an afternoon off when he was working, “there’s so much I could show you.”

“I’m sure you could,” you agreed as you went to grab him a fresh pastry, “Steven, I-”

Before you could manage to say anything else, you heard your name being called from the back. You sighed softly and gave Steven an apologetic look before turning towards the kitchen, “sorry, duty calls - I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Of course, yes, definitely,” his entire face was falling as he watched you walk away. Realistically he knew that you were at work and had to attend to your job but it still wished you could stay. There was something so magnetic about you that continued to draw him in. You were like a warm, sweet hot chocolate on a rainy afternoon, or a gentle, soft breeze on a perfect spring day, “bye…”

Alright, he was really ging to need to do something and either ask you out finally or just let this all go and move on. But being stuck in this odd limbo of sorts was only to make things worse or continue to break his heart. And, he wagered with himself, if he asked you out and you said no, he’d know where he stood. But…it would still break his heart a little if you only wanted to be friends.

What a dilemma indeed. 

Marc was going to kick his ass later for not asking you out today when he had the perfect opportunity to say so. 

Heck.

-── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Steven kept his distance for a few days, which you definitely noticed. You were sure that he was busy with work and life and tried not to let it bother you but you definitely missed his presence. It was hard not to notice the absence of the sunshine he brought in all the time. 

Steven, meanwhile, had been trying to work up the nerve to come and see you. He had promised himself (and Marc) that the next time he saw you he was going to ask you out. There were no if ands or buts at this point. Unless, you know, there was an emergency or something…then it would just be rude. Anyway - 

He made his way to the cafe and came inside without allowing himself to have any second thoughts. To his dismay and chagrin, he found the same customer from the other day chatting you up again. Talk about bad timing. He waited until the man left and made a beeline over to you.

“Hey there!” you looked at him with starry eyes and a bright smile, “I’ve missed you!”

“Hi, I - wait. You’ve missed me?” he asked softly as you nodded, “it’s been a busy few days.”

“You don’t have to explain to me,” you insisted, “just know that whenever I get to see you I’m happy.”

“Will you go out with me?” he blurted his question out before he could take it back or have any second thoughts. You blinked at him owlishly a few times, trying to make sure that you’d heard him correctly. When you saw the pretty pink blush creeping into his neck and cheeks you were positive you’d heard him correctly.

“Like on a date?” you asked, you know, just to clarify. 

“Y-yeah,” he answered nervously as you inhaled sharply, a sound of excitement, “I-I am. Unless you’re dating someone already! Like-like that guy you were talking to earlier.”

“James?” you made a sound of amusement before waving off the idea that you had anything romantic with him, “he’s my cousin! He’s been here visiting, that’s all.”

“Oh,” his embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by his excitement and nerves. That meant…, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you teased lightly, “but umm…if the offer still stands, then I’d love to take you up on it.”

“You want to go on a date?” he pointed at himself as you giggled, unable to stop yourself from the incredulous look on his face, “with me?”

“Yes!” you hoped that he could understand just how much you wanted this too. The idea of asking him out had crossed your mind several times and you had almost done it yourself but the right situation just hadn’t come up, “I’d really like that.”

“Right, yeah, me too,” he seemed almost like he was incredibly surprised by your eagerness, “so then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirmed, a saccharine silence falling over the two of you. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, “how does tonight work? I’m off in about an hour.”

“Tonight?!” you hoped he wasn’t getting cold feet now that the reality of an actual date hit him. You shrugged sheepishly before nodding, “yeah…tonight works. That’d be…great.”

“Good,” you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, “do you want to wait or meet me back here later?”

“I’ll wait,” he touched the spot on his cheek that had been blessed by your lips, a starry look on his face, “maybe with a tea in the meantime?”

“I can do that,” yeah, you liked this guy a lot. And you were excited to see where it could all go, “that sounds perfect.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “perfect.”

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[minv97]

♡

Warning nsfw content Minors dni.

Contains unprotected sex, mentions of cum and overstimulation and everything else nasty.

Friends with benefits, fem reader and Felix bet that reader can't sleep with anyone else because according to him it's "my pussy".

+

Hii! So I found out I hate doing requests and I've been gone for a good week or 2 but I'm back! I'll be posting more often hopefully but I hope u guys enjoy this! Been an idea in my head for awhile now and I'm obsessed with Lee Felix these days but who isn't? TAKE CARE

You're not surprised to see Felix standing in your living room when you get home, he's got an annoying smirk on his pretty pink lips upon seeing your arrival and he's giving you a look that just screams I fucking told you so.

"I'm not in the mood Felix." You say before he can even start and he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

"Wasn't gonna say anything, sweetheart." He smiles at you innocently but you know Felix well enough to know he's just waiting to pour alcohol in your cut.

"I'm serious," you throw your purse down on the floor more aggressively than you had meant to. "I'll fucking kill you if you say it."

Felix can barely hold back a laugh, eyes squinting as he walks to you with open arms.

"Fine, I won't say I told you so," he says as he pulls you into his chest. "Want to tell me what happened?"

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut tight before hiding your face in his chest as the memories came flooding back to the surface of your brain. All you wanted to do was go on about your day and try to pretend it never happened.

"He couldn't get me to cum-" you groan again, feeling heat rushing to your face.

"Is that all?" You can feel Felix's chest begin to shake as he tries to contain his laughter only for your sake.

"-I had to fake an orgasm and he kinda caught on which resulted in me leaving and it was so awkward. I thought I was going to die."

"Wanna know why you couldn't cum?" Felix asks tauntingly, forcing your chin up to look him in his eyes and he places a peck on the tip of your nose. "It's 'cause he's not me."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the cocky motherfucker, hating the fact you knew deep down inside he was right, you were hooked to Felix.

"Lucky for you though, I'm here. What would you do without me?" He presses his lips against your cheek in a soft sweet peck.

"I'd have to start buying my brownies from the store." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean on your tippy toes to connect your lips with his in a kiss for a moment

"You know damn well I'm good for other things too but I see you've forgotten, must need a reminder hm love?"

And that's exactly how you ended up under Felix for the umpteenth time, Felix thinks it's where you should've been all along, under him with him between your legs and his cock stuffing your needy pussy to the brim. He loves this position just so he can see your face as he slides out of you only to slide right back in your velvety walls with a sqwelsh, loves seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head as your brain turns to mush all because of his cock.

"Look at that-" he has to hold the back of your neck up to get you to watch when he slides out of your pussy again, only to push right back in your pulsating count, watching the way your walls wrap around him so deliciously. "That's all mine baby, my pussy. Say it."

"Ahh fuck Felix..." You whine out, Felix knows your head is practically mush right now and it makes him chuckle but he's determined, slapping your pussy hard enough to see if that'll make you come back to your senses just enough.

"Say it, tell me who's pussy this is." He demands, rutting in to you at such a fast pace it's hard for you to form a coherent sentence.

"Yours." You breathe out, hands searching for something to grab onto and you opt for your bedsheets, fisting the fabric in your hands for deer life. "Yours, yours, yours. Ts'your pussy-"

"There you go, good girl." He watches the way your face scrunches up in pleasure as you cream all over his cock, lips parting and he can't help but to kiss your parted lips as he fucks you through your high till your thighs are shaking from the overstimulation.

"Too much- pleasee-" You beg, eyes beginning to gloss over with tears from how overstimulated your pussy feels but Felix isn't done yet.

"Give me one more baby, please? I know you can fucking take it." Felix continues thrusting in your pussy at his same fast pace, not bothering to wipe your mascara and tear covered face nor the drool spilling from the corner of your lips, sadistically basking at the sight of your fucked out state.

"fuck fuck fuck." You mumble repeatedly as you begin to feel that familiar knot forming again, Felix's thrusts get sloppier and he reaches his hand down to begin playing with your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Take that fucking dick, that's it, baby fuck." Felix can't help but ramble on as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his release, becoming drunk off your pussy and cumming instantly with you when he feels your pussy clenching around him like crazy as you reach your own orgasm, whole body shaking in pleasure as he fucks his white hot sticky fluids into you for good measure. "So next time you try and give my pussy away you'll remember this is mine." He pecks your lips a few times, patting your fucked out pussy a few times in the process and making you flinch with each pat.

<33

Can find all of my work under #minv97

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏𝟑   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   RENZO'S HOUSE, NAKAWE, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Leonor knew she was imposing. Although with permission, she let herself into the most private circle of Renzo’s life, one from which he had barred her for months. There hadn’t been any negotiating it, and she couldn’t say whether that made it better or worse. Rather, she hadn’t tried to go where he didn’t seem to want her. She also hadn’t tried to discover whether it was a matter of wanting at all. He did want her. He had, with clarity and audacity, from the day they met. She’d seen how he treated people that he didn’t want but had yet to experience that kind of terrible disregard from him.

❧ i don't recall when these ideas came to me and melded together but i'm glad they did also hopefully goes without saying but there's time weirdness that'll be addressed subsequently ! also 2x maybe i’m wrong but there aren’t enough bj fantasies given how much some enjoy giving them, idk idk

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Leonor knew she was imposing. Although with permission, she let herself into the most private circle of Renzo’s life, one from which he had barred her for months. There hadn’t been any negotiating it, and she couldn’t say whether that made it better or worse. Rather, she hadn’t tried to go where he didn’t seem to want her. She also hadn’t tried to discover whether it was a matter of wanting at all. He did want her. He had, with clarity and audacity, from the day they met. She’d seen how he treated people that he didn’t want but had yet to experience that kind of terrible disregard from him.

Still, for all they discussed, the red lines and boundaries of their own relationship went without remark—either unspeakable or so self-evident as to require no demarcation. Leonor believed most of the time that it was the latter. She knew that her life had steadily cohered around his. The rhythm of it attracted her, able to fill the grave-silent vacuum where her own had once been. Although it had, important distinctions remained. Now, waking up in his bed, surrounding by what looked to be all of his worldly possessions, knowing he allowed her to be there because she needed him that much, because he cared about her that much, she suspected at least one distinction had blurred irrevocably. 

Just as quick as the realization took hold, so too did the understanding that it didn’t bother her. She noted she was alone in the room. That meant something. She took in the sight of everything bathed in daylight, from the careless stacks of books to the rumpled clothes strewn on the floor to the overflowing boxes shoved into the small room’s corners. It had seemed peculiar to her that he lived in the guesthouse instead of the perfectly suitable villa to which it belonged. Looking around, she began to appreciate why he would make such a choice. For anyone else, it would have been silly or, worse, performative. Leonor, rolling over into the pillows that smelled like him, felt she now unlocked some deeper knowledge of everything he had ever told her about himself—like she could feel what he felt when he claimed to be so uncomfortable and discontent in places other people might kill to experience. In that, yet another distinction dissolved. 

Renzo hadn’t answered the phone when Leonor called, and his flippant prerecorded message sounded cruel as it played. Her hope had been reassurance—comfort, really—in the clarity he tended to offer. Instead, the sound of his voice disheartened her further. Her mind raced all night without guidance to quiet it. It chased away sleep, banging together gut-wrenching thoughts with insistence and urgency. The idea of her mother’s belongings cast out into the world, ripped away before she could claim them for her own sentimental needs, felt just as discordant as the haphazard crashing of cymbals. She had grasped onto half-formed notions of how to retrieve these mysterious belongings, but a plan refused to cohere. Even after crying as she hadn’t in weeks, the burden of emotional exhaustion didn’t slow down the pace of her thoughts.  

She slept much better in Renzo’s bed, even if it was the first time she’d ever been in it. 

He was a private person and, anyway, she had eagerly brought him into her house. His opinion mattered to her as soon as he set foot inside; he liked the artwork in her dining room so much that she'd immediately gifted him one of the large pieces, frame and all. It perplexed him, as if he wasn't sure what he would do with it. 'You don't collect it?' she asked him. He shrugged. 'That's what everyone asks. I should smarten up, huh?' Leonor had imagined his home full of art—obscure, iconoclastic finds, too, not the low-hanging fruit. That exchange and several others kept her curious about what his home looked like.

Luckily, she was the nosy kind of curious. She asked around without shame on a couple of occasions, wondering aloud where he lived and what his house was like. She did know his address. He’d given it to her driver, at the end of long nights or when he left her house in the afternoon. All it told her was that he lived in a quiet, star-studded neighborhood that was the new money equivalent of her own. That wasn’t surprising, even if she imagined him in a trendy downtown apartment rather than one of those high-walled coastal villas. His friends offered less-than-colorful descriptions of what was inside. They seemed confused by the question, even. ‘It’s just a house.’ He wasn’t much for decorating. They went over to drink and smoke and and gamble and watch films. She could imagine it well enough, a gaggle of off-duty actors squished together on a big couch. What kind of couch, though? That was the root of it—she could imagine Renzo’s eyes lighting up at the sight of an old, ugly sofa in a dusty secondhand store, but she couldn’t quite picture him bringing it home with any purpose or intent. In the same way she inherited a house designed for someone else, she supposed he simply occupied someone else’s dream home. 

As it turned out, that was the case. Imposing fences, dense foliage, and locked gates hid all the houses on the street from view. Leonor had initially noted the averageness of the house itself, but she soon found herself more intrigued by the discovery that he resided in the guesthouse instead. She'd cast a glance back at the main house looming large and empty, then laughed as she turned back to the little doll’s home Renzo preferred. Inside, Leonor flipped on every light she encountered as she wandered around. She had felt a strange, sheepish delight that he wasn’t present to observe the way her eyes lingered on every detail. It was greedy, but she wanted to see everything that was his. 

The guesthouse possessed a neutral, modern style that didn’t represent Renzo very well, but he had made it his own. His old shoes piled up in the entryway. The living room, small to her but an open cavern in reality, bore the colorful imprint of his time spent there. VHS tapes clustered around the television set. Evidence of card games past littered the coffee table, along with books, a full ashtray, abandoned bottles of lukewarm beer. Leonor smiled at the little potted cactus. In the music nook, a record collection sat with a couple of guitars. Leonor envisioned him stretched out on the solitary lounge chair, reading the book tossed at its foot, making use of the hard candy or rolling papers on the side table in between chapters. She took one of the candies as she passed by, leaving behind her wrapper with those already discarded. 

The staircase led directly to the single bedroom. Leonor had been able to see in the moonlight, and she soon felt a tug of unease.  Even more than downstairs, Renzo’s bedroom looked like the sanctuary she had suspected his home must be. It was cluttered and overflowed with belongings, some collecting dust and others arranged as if he would return to them any minute. His very life was here. It fit in a single room. Some of it spoke for itself, and others were inscrutable symbols of stories she had yet to hear. What was it like, she wondered, to both live with such sentimentality and to be so without roots? For a moment, she had wanted to turn around and leave, as if she hadn’t earned the right to such an intimate look at him. Instead, she pulled the door shut and crawled into the unmade bed. 

Walking into the house, the nostalgic scent of stale smoke sunk into fabric greeted her. A fleeting recollection of climbing into her mother's personal car sprung to mind in response. The same smell clung to the sheets and pillows, melded with the sweet, earthen scents Renzo wore. She could all but hear her grandmother’s voice ranting about the acerbic stench she loathed, for reasons both hygienic and spiteful, but Leonor found the familiarity comforting. It smelled like her mother’s embrace the morning after a big fight, when she came inside from the balcony with a tired, apologetic smile on her face and last night’s smoke still in her hair. An ocean breeze blew inside from the open doors, and it ruffled Leonor’s hair as she turned to face the view. The water was barely visible through the foliage, but its shimmering in the distance was unmistakable. She listened to the wind, and the quiet city whisperings it carried, and soon felt at home.

As Leonor descended the spiral staircase the next morning, the sound of voices alerted her yet again to the fact that she was imposing. Renzo’s plans for the weekend hadn’t included her. She was supposed to be away and, in any case, he had mentioned meeting a friend. It didn’t occur to her as she’d pulled on her underwear and selected a shirt from the floor to wear—and only that, crucially—that he could be meeting someone at home, right now, while she slept her way from morning to early afternoon. Possibilities flashed through her mind as her steps down the staircase slowed. It could be someone important, like his agent, who sounded dour even on the telephone. Or, it could be a familiar face who would see her bare legs and just laugh. She decided to risk it and managed to pad all the way over to the sunken sitting area before Renzo looked up at her. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as she regarded his guest, a stranger, with a quizzical look.

“Hard,” she replied. "Knocked out.” 

Renzo chuckled, and the man sat across from him piped up, “Hey. I don’t know if you remember me. Jim.”

Leonor stared at his face. He was possibly the most non-Uspanian looking man she had ever seen, and his accent supported that notion. Still, she couldn't remember where she might have seen him. His was a forgettable face, too. “I don’t, sorry. Nice to meet you—again.” 

“Jim’s a photographer,” Renzo added. 

Leonor nodded. He looked like a photographer, and he looked like the kind of photographer that Renzo would befriend. Nonetheless, she feigned dismay, announcing, “Oh, no, I better go hide, then—!”

“Editorial, mostly,” Jim clarified with a laugh. “Yeah, I dabble in photojournalism, but strictly the kind that’s, you know, real news.” 

The conversation lulled while Leonor turned her attention back to Renzo, nudging him with her toes until he reached up to help her climb down onto the couch. Although Jim watched them, he may as well have not been present at all. Leonor wished he wasn’t. Buoyed by the satisfaction of having achieved a new kind of intimacy, Leonor hoped to float down the stairs and right into Renzo’s arms. She wanted a tour of the house, and she wanted to take her time in every part of it. In a sense, the day was halfway over, and it could have progressed like all of the sleepovers before it, making up for lost morning hours with late night ones. Renzo maintained late-rising night owl's hours, and Leonor was happy to follow him into bed and out of it irrespective of where the sun might’ve been sitting in the sky. Today, he was awake early with a friend, and Leonor had to settle for conveying her disappointment through expression alone. He smirked at her while he squeezed her thigh, and she took that as a wordless promise. 

Nestled between him and the couch, Leonor turned her attention back to Jim. “Jim, have you done anything I would recognize?” 

“Maybe,” he began, “But—”

“And you’re from Simerica, too?”

Jim chuckled, and Leonor felt Renzo react to that with his own amused scoff. 

“I met Renzo at the Beverly Hills Hotel,” Jim explained. “He walked into my shot and then told me to go fuck myself. Southern charm, this guy.”

Although there was affection in Jim’s tone, Renzo protested this characterization while Leonor snickered. It was believable, but perhaps that was the problem. “He was being a bitch about it. I wandered by. So what?”

“It was my first Interview job! I can admit I was a teeny bit on edge,” Jim retorted.

Again, they fell quiet while Renzo tended to the cigarette he’d been holding and Leonor observed from where she lay against his chest. 

Jim looked on. His expression shifted into one of careful concentration. He asked without any prelude, “Can I photograph you?” 

It wasn’t a question she couldn’t have anticipated, but Leonor was still surprised. She wrinkled her brow and cast another glance to Renzo before trying to clarify what Jim wanted. “Me?”

“Both of you. Together.”

“Um … When?”

“Now? Today. I have my camera right here.”

“It’s up to you,” Renzo murmured to her.

Indeed, Jim’s camera sat on the coffee table, perched atop a stack of tapes leftover from whatever difficult movie-watching decision Renzo had last made. Leonor looked at it, imagining the shuttering of its lens as it pointed toward her. What kind of photographs did Jim have in mind? She didn’t know what his work looked like, although his association with Renzo offered clues. He wouldn’t have befriended someone whose art he didn’t respect, and Renzo was just as well-acquainted with posing for cameras as Leonor herself. Had Jim taken photographs of him before, aside from whatever unintentional cameo he’d made when they first met? Polaroid flashes went off constantly during their nights of partying, but that, much like the hounding flashes of paparazzi, differed from what Jim was proposing. He wanted to photograph them in Renzo’s home. He would want a performance of candidity, that elusive desire of everyone in his profession. They would be relaxed, together, his object being their relationship, not either of the two individuals that formed it. It wasn't lost on her that he asked for a photo shoot while they ignored him in favor of each other.

Jim’s question, with Renzo’s gentle and immediate yielding, brought yet another once-sharp distinction into soft focus. 

“Well …” Leonor meant to forestall announcing a decision, but her tone gave it away. Jim smiled as she said to Renzo, “We do look good together. Not too many good quality daytime pictures, are there? Hm.”

Jim was eager to seal the deal. “Just a casual offer,” he insisted. “Just for fun. Perk of having interesting friends.”

Leonor nodded. He must have taken pictures of Renzo before. He acted like a bashful schoolboy with a surprising report card whenever she found photos of him to coo over. 'Put it away! It's embarrassing.' Those photographers had success with him, managing to coax out the version that played well with others and didn't resent his blessings. Fancy pictures taken by a friend would be something different. Perhaps Jim's photos had been monochrome closeups that turned his large, green eyes into a soft, warm gray and made even more pronounced the sharp lines of his face. Although she had seen countless photos of herself, she couldn’t fully see how she would fit into that frame—what they would look like together, through Jim’s mechanical eyes. 

“No publication? Nowhere?” she asked, forcing herself back to the concrete specifics. 

Jim shook his head. “I’ll give you prints to keep, and you can do whatever with them.” 

She felt a flutter. It was the kind of ingenuous excitement that always appeared with embarrassment nipping at its heels. What would she do, frame one and put it on her bedside table—stick it to her refrigerator with a cute magnet, tuck it into the sun visor of her car, keep it in her purse alongside her credit cards and notes-to-self? Even if they felt silly, there was nothing ridiculous in those suggestions. Her desire for what Jim offered was sincere. That, coupled with the subtle feeling of Renzo nuzzling his cheek against her hair, confirmed the suspicion she had awoken with less than an hour ago. Somehow, today was different. Every day after would have to be as well.

Surprised by the softness of her own words when she spoke, Leonor affirmed, “Okay, then. Sounds like fun.”

TRANSCRIPT:

[Leonor murmurs]

[Camera shutters, indistinct voices]

RENZO (O.S.) | Open your mouth—

[Birds chirping, Leonor laughs]

RENZO | How’d you sleep? LEONOR | Hard. Knocked out. [Renzo chuckles]

JIM | Hey. I don’t know if you remember me. Jim. LEONOR | I don’t, sorry. Nice to meet you—again.

RENZO | Jim’s a photographer. LEONOR | Oh, no, I better go hide, then— JIM | [laughs] Editorial, mostly. Yeah, I dabble in photojournalism, but strictly the kind that’s, you know, real news.

LEONOR | Jim, have you done anything I would recognize?

JIM | Maybe, but— LEONOR | And you’re from Simerica, too? JIM | I met Renzo at the Beverly Hills Hotel. He walked into my shot and then told me to go fuck myself. Southern charm, this guy. [Leonor snickers]

RENZO | He was being a bitch about it. I wandered by. So what? JIM | It was my first Interview job! I can admit I was a teeny bit on edge. [Laughter]

JIM | Can I photograph you?

LEONOR | Me? JIM | Both of you. Together. LEONOR | Um … When? JIM | Now? Today. I have my camera right here. RENZO | It’s up to you. LEONOR | Well … We do look good together. Not too many good quality daytime pictures, are there? Hm.

JIM | Just a casual offer. Just for fun. Perk of having interesting friends. LEONOR | No publication? Nowhere? JIM | I’ll give you prints to keep, and you can do whatever with them.

LEONOR | Okay, then. Sounds like fun.

[thedeathdoctor]

Won’t Let You Get Away (1/?)

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN! Reader

Summary: Ghost falls hard for one of 141′s new recruits

Warnings: there’s no smut in this one it’s just fluff and exposition

A/N: Just sat down and wrote this because i need to get back into writing again. Gonna be a possessive Ghost x reader fic hopefully because that’s like crack to me rn. Will probably get pretty dark & into some trauma in later chapters so heads up now if you aren’t into that. May or not edit this later for coherency but I am not doing it now. :)

From the day Ghost first met you, he knew you were going to be his undoing. Happy, bright eyes looked directly at his own, unafraid to see the person underneath the skull mask and fearsome reputation. Ghost no longer kept up with the mythology surrounding himself as doing so would take entirely too much time away from him, time that he preferred to spend training instead. Even after working with him for some time, most soldiers still preferred to train their eyes to the bottom of his mask, unable to fully meet the cold gaze of their Lieutenant.

You had to have heard the stories. There was no way that you’d make it all the way to 141 without being told at least one about its shadowy Lt. Sometimes, during R&R at base, Ghost could hear some of the grunts whisper incredulously about him and still, when he turned to face them, hardly anyone would allow themselves to be caught staring at him.

Given the way that most tended to leave him alone as if he were an apex predator, your kindness surprised him. A high level of respect accompanied the title of Lieutenant, and you managed to inject a sense of warmth into your conversations with him. While he was used to being feared, he felt genuine admiration from you, something that he hardly received from anyone else in 141.

You had asked him to help you train, and your willingness to admit your own weaknesses impressed him. You were an excellent sharpshooter, but when the enemy was up close, you struggled at hand to hand combat. It especially didn’t help that you simply weren’t as big as many other soldiers. As huge as your spirit felt in your body, it just didn’t have the mass that you felt you had. So, in order to improve, you asked the largest guy in 141 to practice with you, the Lieutenant.

The two of you trained hard, sometimes at odd hours, but you wanted to feel competent in any situation. Defending yourself, even in the depths of fatigue was worth being awoken at 2 or 3 am for impromptu training. Despite feeling groggy and discombobulated, you put all the effort you could give into all of your sparring sessions. Slipping out of holds became easier, and you learned that with the right timing, you could use his mass to your own advantage in a fight. Even when you failed and ended up with a face full of dirt, you got up and brushed yourself off, sometimes even cracking a joke before trying to analyze where you could’ve done better.

He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, and this scared him deeply.

[fjorests-of-wildemount]

I have talked quite a bit about this in the past, but given where we are in the campaign now and what has just happened, I wanted to put down some thoughts in a maybe, hopefully coherent kind of way. Mostly the thoughts chase each other around in my head going “brrrrr” so here’s hoping they cooperate.

Since we have known him, Orym has been on a Mission. When he first linked up with the Crown Keepers he had been on the road, presumably on his own, for at least four years, possibly five. At some time during those years, Keyleth charged him with finding out information on the attack that killed Will and Derrig to make sense of what happened that day. Early on he’s quiet, thoughtful, reluctant to take the lead, and honorable to a fault. Even as he opens himself up to create connections with this motley crew, he still guards part of himself. In fact, in the time we see them together he never tells the Crown Keepers about his family. The only mention we get is when he is asked by the Wildmother if he will continue on and Orym says, “For him, I will.”

None of this is to say he doesn’t feel connected to his friends, who manage to take him on a journey away from his primary directive, and–given the fact that Orym was alone at the beginning of ExU–it’s safe to say these are the first people he’s connected with in a long time. It was while he was with them that he started practicing the Zeph’aeratam again. Being part of the group with Opal and Dariax and Fearne and Dorian and Fy’ra showed Orym that the world was bigger than his grief.

But still, he kept it to himself.

After the events of ExU Prime, Orym and his two best friends from the Crown Keepers, Dorian and Fearne, went back to Zephrah. A place that I would argue Orym probably had returned to seldom, if not never, since Will and Derrig’s deaths. It was sometime during this journey that Orym told them both about his family, likely the first people from outside of Zephrah to know their names and what they meant to him. These friends went with him to continue his Mission, to try to help him get closure. And when Dorian left, Orym kept hold of the means to keep in touch, because Orym had gotten closer to Fearne and Dorian than he had gotten to anyone since he lost his family.

I would love to know what, if any, kind of conversations Orym had with Dorian and Fearne about Will and Derrig, especially Will. Because as the weeks went on, Orym did forge bonds with Bell’s Hells, he did start to tell more people about the ones he’d lost, but always at a distance. He kept the memories of who Will and Derrig were to himself, even as he was honest about how much he missed them. Did Orym take the chance to tell Dorian and Fearne about what they were like when they were alive? Because it’s clear that Orym is bereft, and angry, and lonely, and goes to sleep every night with them in his thoughts. Is there anyone else alive who knows the secrets of what Will and Orym were like when they were together, just the two of them?

There is nothing secret about the pain and anger he feels, but what about the joy?

The Mission as it was originally put to Orym is over now. They know everything about how and why Zephrah was attacked. That doesn’t mean Orym is stopping, because Orym isn’t the kind of person who could stop when someone is in danger. But the single-minded drive toward Otohan, toward answers and justice or whatever Orym thinks Will and Derrig would have wanted from him in this, was the mortar Orym used to build up his walls. He’s standing on a precipice of a vast future and he’s alone because he has made himself alone. His grief has made him alone. And there are so many complicated reasons why Dorian is the one he is finally, actually reaching out to now that there is no more path to shuffle down. 

I’m not sure if Orym even knows who he is anymore without this grief, without this Mission. In his mid-thirties his whole adult life has been spent married to Will, or grieving Will, or searching for answers for Will’s death. In the middle of the world ending, how do you decide what comes next?

A million episodes ago Orym offered to be the one Imogen could lean on, and then, after she walked away, he reached out to Dorian on the Sending Stone. I think Dorian has been the one Orym thought that he could lean on for a long while now. And I think that is intrinsically tied to his Mission, this journey, and his grief.

[basedonwha6]

I've never made an au before but heres a concept for one! Basic story line below the cut

In an ancient city, sun and moon were made by the gods to warn humans of famine, giving them a chance to prepare and prevent. Due to confusion and fear however, the people mistake sun and moon for spirits that bring famine, and they're cast away into a deep pit of ruins, where they are bound to stay for eternity.

In the modern time, Y/N is a college student who happened upon an opportunity to travel - which came with the promise that when they arrived, they'd be given a tour of a faraway ancient city. During the tour of the city, however, a siren call of sorts beckons them away from their tour group, appealing to their curiosity. Following the call, they slip away from the group and fall down into a deep pit, where they're met by what they could only call a monster. Barely slipping out of it's clutches in a stroke of luck, they run, being driven deeper and deeper into the pit - which turns to ruins as they run - by their assailent. Eventually, they reach an opening, an area from where the sunlight shines through a hole far above, and the beast stops it's pursuit and reluctantly turns away.

Confused but grateful for their safety, Y/N realizes they're lost and panics. They shout for help, try to get service on their phone, or even try to start a fire to alert someone with smoke, but nothing works. Totally lost and inexperienced with the wilderness, and after many fruitless attempts to get help, they allow themselves to curl into a ball and cry. They can't retrace their steps for fear of the monster, and they might be able to go deeper when they're stronger and ready to fight, but they need an emotional release - plus the sunlight was nice. The ruins were so dark everywhere else, and at least here felt friendly. They'd decide what to do once they'd gotten themselves together, but for now they needed to rest from the chase and release tension as much as possible...all while completely unaware of the gaze that had tracked them from the moment they'd entered the clearing.

Sun and moon, although having a relatively strong distaste for humans, have been bored and lonely for a thousands of years, where their only company was food and prey. Few sentient beings found themselves in the ruins, and even fewer made it to their clearing - now, the first human in centuries, was sitting and crying at the center of their territory. They decide to put aside their dislike for mankind and approach.

Beyond this point, Sun, Moon and Y/N meet. Y/N is initially scared and Sun and Moon are unimpressed, but press on due to lack of connection outside of themselves for years. Eventually, they gain Y/N's trust and they become their roommate of sorts.

Sun and Moon help show Y/N how to grow food with the limited resources in the clearing and Y/N tells them about the modern world. They find each other's company enriching, and that enrichment turns into a bond.

This is all mostly just 1 am word vomit and general ideas, so the whole story is very underdeveloped, but I wanted to put it out there in case anyone was interested in reading! It was really fun to type out lol regardless of grammatical mistakes (I wrote it on the Tumblr app and have not proof read it...hopefully it's coherent lmao)

If you made it this far, tysm for reading!! Hopefully you enjoyed the concept :)

[analogwriting]

Childhood Crush

Chapter 20: Adamantium

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.2k a/n: this is completely different than anything i've published so far so hopefully it's okay ;a; next

Captain…where was the captain? Was he okay? He doubted so, that blast had been insane. Even with Killer moving in front to protect his captain - he didn’t stand any kind of chance. Shanks was just too powerful.

On his back, breathing heavy, staring at the sky above. He's praying to whatever deity, or maybe the universe, that this isn’t the end but he's pretty sure it might be. He tries to think of how he got here; all the events that led up to this moment but he can't even form a coherent thought right now. He can’t even move to see if he can find his captain; hell, he can hardly keep his eyes open. They slowly flutter shut as the world around him goes black.

His heart feels like it's beating out of his chest. He never thought...he couldn't believe that he'd go out like this. Not this soon. He thought there'd be more of some kind of a fight; not being annihilated by a single blow. He’s searching for a lifeline he just can’t reach. His vision starts blurring as the light starts to fade. Water suddenly surrounds his body - did he fall into the ocean? He can’t even swim now, so he’ll probably end up sinking. He slowly falls unconscious once more.

Inhale. Exhale.

Looks like someone fished him out of the water, he can breathe but not easily. With each inhale followed by its exhale, he swears his ribs are breaking. It wouldn't surprise him if they punctured his lungs soon. The pain, it’s unrelenting. He’s ready for the end if that means all of this would end… Going out at twenty-seven? He supposed he made it further than most pirates, but he still feels like he could’ve gone further. Voices can be heard, but he can’t make anything out. Again, his world goes black. 

Suddenly, his life is flashing before his eyes like some kind of movie. The highs, the lows, his accomplishments, and everything that never happened; most of them are memories of you. There was so much that was unsaid - so much that he wanted to tell you. He had told himself he would finally tell you everything when you returned from Wano, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen now.

Naturally, the first memory to surface was when he had met you. The captain and him had just gotten their asses handed to them by Victoria for laughing at her when she spilled brown curry all over herself. They had retreated to the captain’s house. Eustass had burst into his sibling’s room to declare not to come into his room, which, of course, would arouse suspicion for anyone. Not moments later, you had burst into the captain's room with such a confident look on your face that you had caught your brother doing something devious. You immediately swept him off his feet; had taken his breath away. It was love at first sight. He was certain he’d never seen anyone so radiant; his world had grown a little brighter that day.

It only grew from there. Seeing the way you cared for the captain and everyone else, it was admirable. You were patient with them; caring and kind. You never once complained about having everyone over or having so many mouths to feed. After all, it was only you providing for the lot of you for a long time. You had dropped out of school just to take care of the captain and you didn’t even bat an eye. You didn’t even hesitate to do what you needed to make sure that Eustass had everything he could ever need. You never once seemed to regret it. You were so strong in more ways than one.

The scene shifted to the first time you taught him how to cook. You taught him how to make spaghetti from scratch. You could've just bought box noodles, but you had gone the extra mile to really show off your own skills and show him how to really cook. You were patient with him despite him being really bad in the beginning. You never once lost your temper with him or raised your voice. Honestly, it's probably why spaghetti ended up being his favorite food - because it reminded him of you. Of the warmth you made him feel that day. 

Each and every time you saved their asses from their own dumb decisions, it only solidified his love for you. You displayed such strength and grace when you fought, never once becoming overwhelmed, no matter how many opponents stood in your way. You always came out on top without hardly breaking a sweat. He admired you for that. You never hesitated in your actions. All they had to say was that someone was in trouble and you jumped into action with no questions asked; no complaints. Sure, there was teasing, but it was light hearted and you never meant it.

Eustass noticed Killer’s crush on you back on the island. He had been staring just a little too long one day and as Eustass had put it, “You just had a look on your face.” He had teased him relentlessly about it, but also kept pushing him to confess. Killer kept coming up with excuses as to why he couldn't. You probably only saw him as a brother as you did the others. The captain tried to argue that point; saying that the both of you acted more like a domestic couple than anything else. You both were practically parents of the other three. 

The captain was actually the one who had given him the photo of you. It had been as a joke at first. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." It was a photo of you stitching up one of them, but you had been laughing at something that someone had said. Seeing you like that had taken his breath away. He loved it when you laughed, it was the most beautiful thing to him. He was so in love with you that it hurt.

Little did the captain know that Killer did end up keeping that photo. It stayed in his helmet - it was his treasure.

Heat and Wire caught on not long after and the teasing only grew worse from there. They had noticed when he started developing the habit of holding on to your hips whenever you would patch him up. Even still, he never said anything. He just thought you were out of his league, too good for him; much to everyone else’s dismay. They just wanted him to confess, but they weren’t about to do it for him.

When he had seen you near death in that alleyway - that was the first time Killer had experienced true anger. Someone pulling dirty tricks to get to you - you didn't deserve that. You never attacked out of turn, you had only ever attacked as defense. Never started a fight, just ended it. You were always just playing clean up. Cleaning up their messes and it had gotten you hurt. You were his ray of sunshine and he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone take that away from him. He felt like he had failed you that day somehow - like it was his fault you had ended up that way. He made a silent vow to make sure no one ever hurt you like that ever again.

After the attack, you weren’t the same. You were more skittish, had lost your sparkle and shine. All that confidence you had was gone. You did your best to pretend it didn't bother you, but he could see right through you. Aside from Eustass, no one could read you better than Killer. He still loved you with every ounce of his being, no matter what happened. He just wanted to hold you close and tell you that everything was alright, that he’d protect you from harm. Though, he still blamed himself somewhat for what happened, so he kept his distance.

Then he saw a shift in your personality out at sea. You had been growing your confidence back. You were happy and full of life again. You would cook with him, help your brother with some projects, even taught Heat and Wire how to smith. You still had your moments, but you seemed happy. You had your groove back for the most part. He was happy to see you in your element once more.

When you opened up to him on the island, his heart ached for you. Seeing you talk about yourself in such a manner, he couldn’t understand why you had thought that way. Everyone cherished you so much. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t fight anymore because you did everything in your power to help out wherever you could. He was determined to help you see just how much you meant to everyone; and for a moment, he thought it worked.

Something happened that created that drastic shift in your mood. Later, it was to be shown it was Kese, but at the time he couldn't understand. You started really pulling away and it had concerned everyone. No one knew what was going on. Everyone tried talking to you at one point or another, but you shut everyone out. 

Then you announced you were going to leave the crew. It wasn't forever, but it ended up feeling like it. He had been upset just as Eustass had been, but he knew you had your reasons and he respected that. If this would help you, then he’d gladly let you take some time. After all, he said he’d never make you do something that you didn’t want to do.

It was during your departure that the terrible news came. The news that you had been taken from them far too soon. He was absolutely devastated just as the captain had been - everyone was. He felt like his world was crumbling. He did some stupid things - things he knew you would never have approved of - right along with the captain. The both of them held little value of their own lives, growing reckless in their actions.

The events of Wano then happened. He didn't recall too much of what happened in the snowfield. He wasn't fully himself when that happened and you were covered head to toe in robes. 

But when you showed up, saving their asses just like you used to? Looking radiant and fantastic? He was pretty sure he had died and went to whatever heaven right then and there. He figured it had been a mix up cause there's no way he'd end up there, but as long as you were there, he didn't care. You looked like the guardian angel you had always been. The confidence you once held was back and he fell in love with you all over again. That shine, that sparkle, your shit eating grin, and cocky way you spoke - he had missed it so much. 

He could hardly speak let alone move, he had been so glad he wore a helmet because he wouldn’t have been able to keep anything hidden. His heart would’ve been on his sleeve at that moment.

Both him and Eustass had honestly thought you were a hallucination after you left once again. They assumed they had just had a close run in with death and wanted to see you one more time so they both imagined you. Or your spirit had swooped down to save their asses one last time before ascending back to the heavens. There was just no way that they were that lucky - that the universe would bring you back to them just because.

Only to their surprise when you showed up with the rest of the crew. You were actually there - alive. You were smiling, laughing, and arguing with Eustass. Everything was right again. They both tried not to dwell on it too much because they both knew they wouldn’t be able to hold it together in the slightest.

He had wanted so badly to tell you how much he loved you - how much he always loved you. But, with what happened with the SMILE fruit, he just felt like he wasn't worthy of your love. Whatever confidence he had somehow gotten had been shattered because of the damn fruit. Insecurity took over, he felt like a monster. A monster you could never love.

Though, you never once showed an ounce of fear or disgust. Not even in the snowfields. That much he remembered. From the moment you had seen him both as Kamazo and as himself, both times he had only seen sympathy in your eyes. You saw right through his smile, you knew there was nothing but pain and sadness behind it. Even when you heard his hideous and terrible laugh, it didn’t seem to phase you in the slightest.

He had almost confessed to you that night in the kitchen. However, with everything else that happened and your welcoming aura, just you being back and in his arms, the miracle of you being alive, he broke down. You didn't judge him though, you didn't make him feel weak for doing so. It felt like the most natural thing, like it was okay for him to not be strong all the time, like he could finally let go. He felt he could relax again. You were there in his arms and safe. You held on to him in a way that gave him the resolve to keep going. He knew as long as you were around - things would be right. He could be content with just being by your side.

Then you dropped the bomb that you were staying behind again. The amount of anxiety he had felt when he first heard this was astronomical. Who was going to protect you? Why were you staying? Did you get into a fight with Eustass? He couldn't see why you'd want to stay. Especially not after what had happened last time. The excuse you gave the crew, he saw right through it. There was a reason you were staying but you weren’t telling anyone. Why?

It didn't help that you wouldn't tell him the truth either. What could it have been that you couldn't even tell him? You two had always been transparent with each other. The both of you always went to each other for everything. There were no secrets between the two of you. Well, except for his massive secret of being in love with you all this time. 

Seeing the determination in your eyes, you had your heart set on it; and who was he to stop you from achieving whatever it was you had your heart set on? He knew it had to be important if it meant you'd be leaving the crew again. Eustass seemed to know why you were staying, but he also wouldn't tell anyone. It must have been a very good reason considering that the captain was a blabbermouth and couldn’t hardly keep any form of secret to himself. It also must have been a very good reason for him to allow you to stay behind.

Killer had tried to get the information out of him. And he almost did. 

"I'll tell you, but only if you finally tell them how you feel." 

That's what he had said and, dammit, he tried. Killer had never been one to convey his feelings in the least. He just wasn't good at it - especially when it came to you. You were just so perfect and so out of reach to him that when he tried any kind of confession, he ended up tongue tied. How could he admit his feelings for someone that he held so dear? What if everything went south? He couldn’t stand to lose you in any capacity - he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

The night of the festival, he had taken the biggest risk he'd ever had. Sure, it started out of genuine concern. You were spiraling and he could tell - it had kind of been his fault for reopening such a fresh wound. He reached out, putting his hand on your thigh in an attempt to ground you. You seemed to come back and even welcome the touch. You visibly relaxed to his touch and he couldn’t help but…keep it there.

So, he decided to keep his hand there and you didn't push him away. That told him everything he needed to know. That little bit of contact that you allowed, and even seemed to enjoy, was more telling than words could give him. The both of you had always been able to communicate more silently. You were connected in that way. Words weren’t really needed.

Again, he didn't say anything. He didn't feel it was the right time. He didn't want you to feel like it was some last ditch effort to keep you on the ship. He decided that he'd finally say something whenever he saw you again - much to the captain's dismay. Eustass just wanted him to stop overthinking everything and get it out. Though, there seemed to be a silent agreement between you and Killer after that night. One that said there was going to be some kind of conversation when you were reunited.

And now, he'd never get the chance. You were in Wano, probably seeing the vivre card slowly burning, not knowing what to do. You told them not to go and get themselves killed, yet here he was, more than likely dying. Right along with his captain - your brother.

In the haze of his subconscious, he saw a face. Your face. You were leaning over him, saying something in a panic. Did you find him? Did whatever celestial being that's out there decide to give him mercy and bring you to him? Or was this all a dream? 

Maybe this was a second chance, another life to live. No, he couldn't be that lucky. He was surprised he was still alive - was he alive? Or was he in limbo right now? He had no idea.

He did notice that your blurry face was crying. Why, in his last moments, would he imagine you crying? Was it because of the guilt he was currently feeling? You were going to be left all alone. Well, he wasn’t even sure how much of the other crew had survived if at all. 

He knew that he probably wouldn’t survive, probably not the captain either. He had no idea where the rest of the crew was. He felt like a failure. He had failed to protect the grew, failed to keep his promise to you, failed you.

How could you forgive him? He wouldn't blame you if you were mad at him for the rest of your life. There were so many things left unsaid between the both of you. He felt you pull his head against your chest. Was this real? Or still the last ditch attempt to feel you in some way before he died?

"Everything's alright. Don't be afraid. Close your eyes - rest." 

Those words rang through clear as day before he finally let go of consciousness once more.

[heartilywrites]

The fic of reader being varrick’s actress was so good i loved it so much!! Now i was thinking what about a korra fic with an earthbender reader who claims to be the best earthbender? And because she thinks shes the best she tends to act recklessly during missions but gets upset and overprotective when korra gets into even a little bit of danger 😋 when korra tries to get to the bottom of why reader is so reckless she finds out reader is just used to no one caring about her and during a really risky mission reader tries to sacrifice herself and tells korra “take my heart—take everything i have” angst to comfort plsplspls

Sorry if this is a weirdly specific request its just been on my mind for so long😔😔 LOVE U HAVE A GREAT DAY🩷🩷🩷

،، 𝓔verything I Didn't Say ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where your overprotectiveness for Korra takes a dark turn.

content warning: comfort ; angst ; gore explaining situation (wounds and blood descriptions) ; dysfunctional family descriptions ; korra x fem and earthbender!reader ; eye color description ; no use of y/n

wc: 3.1k

a/n: hello gorgeous!!!! im so glad you loved the actress fic <33 this one took me a bit 'cause i needed to add coherence to my own plot for the attacks, but hopefully i met your expectations!! LOVE U TOO, ENJOY :D

“ As long as I got you, I'm gonna be alright. As long as I got you, I'm not afraid to die.

Sounds of chunks of earth crashing against the floor while grunts, electric shocks, fire roaring and metal cutting air was everything anyone could hear from meters away.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where the fuck is she!?” the firebender's voice asked with desperation while defending himself from the attacks of the enemy group. “Who was the last one to see Korra!?”

A loud bang was heard from behind followed with a couple of curses and a stumbling silhouette of you walking to them was seen. With the metal strips that you always attached to your arms waiting to be used you got the last opponents making your friends turn back to you amazed with how easy you made it look. A quick move of your hand pinned the three benders to the floor.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I had him.” Mako said, you chuckle nodding with a sarcastic face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “'Course you did,” you looked around and frowned when only three heads were counted. “Where's Korra?”

Everyone opened their mouths only to be interrupted by a suden lightning. From the three, you were the quickest one to react and look for the source.

When arriving to the scene, Korra's image was quickly followed by a bender shooting lightnings at her, you felt your blood boil and were fast to act. The avatar stopped surprised seeing a piece of rock bigger than her being thrown at her attacker, not fast enough to hit them, but it made them run to dodge it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this!” you screamed running beside her and being quick to attack again both with earth and metal.

Korra looked at your way of attacking, impressed with the boldness and agility of your movements, almost hypnotized until she forced herself to land back and help you. Not even five minutes after, every single person in the criminal group was captured and were being handed to the police officers. You were taking your metal strips to have them put back in place when everyone reunited.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You were amazing... As always.” the waterbender began.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Told you, the best earthbender this city has ever seen.” you shrugged with a proud smile, arranging the pieces of metal.

She smiled while shaking her head. “Yeah, but that was stupid. You could have ended up hurt.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “But I didn’t,” your eyes looked up to hers. “I'm the best at what I do, stop worrying about me.” the last part came out in a soft tone, Korra sighed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, but we are a team! That's why we fight together, so we can have each other's back.” she argued again.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Drop it, Korra, I'm fine.” you finished.

Before the girl could even continue with her lecture, you changed the subject to something else, getting your friends to join and talk as a whole. The avatar had a little bit of a bad mouth taste after that little confrontation, but paid no attention to it.

On your next fight, it almost seemed as if two of the attackers were targeting you. With a big cut on your leg you were still fighting with everything you had, once again the whole team was victorious. While you were doing a tourniquet on your –not that deep, in your words– cut, Korra walked to you furious with a frown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you fucking serious!?” she started, you were way too calm. “I told you we are a team! You don't need to fight alone!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't know if you saw what I saw, but they attacked me first.” you shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And why did you stopped us from helping?” now her arms were crossed on her chest.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Because I got them!” with a little bit of difficulty, you stood back up. “Stop babying me around! I know how to fight and defend myself! I don't need you to be all on me everytime we fight.” limping, you got closer to her. “If you wanted me in the team it was because you knew what I was capable of, you need to understand that I don’t need anyone to look out for me, I'm fine.”

Her ice blue gaze fought for a couple of seconds with your emerald eyes before you walked pass her. Korra sighed frustrated while pulling her face a little bit with her hands.

She didn’t understand your obstinacy, Asami had said you were a little bit of a stubborn when she introduced you to the team, but also said how you were such a good fighter and... That was it! Asami! She had to help Korra on her try to understand you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What do you mean?” the inventor asked, taking a sip from her cup of tea. Korra had asked her to speak in private, while everyone else was practicing outside.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know,” she looked for you to name you. “She's... Something.”

In the distance your scream of victory was heard while Mako whined for a rematch.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you she was hot-headed, didn't I?” Asami answered with a giggle.

You and Asami had known each other for quite some time now. She met you in the beginning of your teenage years while you were still perfecting your metalbending and she was the first friendly face you have trusted in so long.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, I know, but why?” Korra frowned a little bit. “There's no way she's like this just because.”

The non–bender licked her lips with a thinking face, she didn’t how to explain you. Her amber eyes looked at you beating the brothers and smiled a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Her parents,” she began, not looking away. “She had them in the house, but they never wanted to be parents, so they never took care of her.”

Now Korra looked at you, even if the scene of you sitting on top of Bolin's back while having Mako suspended in the air with a metal piece in his wrists was funny, she made a grimace with her lips. Frowning them a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “For what I know she was on her own pretty much since she can remember... Both parents didn’t care if she lived or not, they would scream at her for literally anything and everything,” Asami shifted a little in her seat. “That's... uhm, that's why she is so good at attacking and defending, daughter of two earthbenders.”

Korra looked at Asami, flabbergasted to what she was implying. Golden eyes met her with concern.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They made her feel like she was on her own for so long that is merely impossible for her to ask for help, she has always been either invisible or a perfect blank for them.” the engineer's voice sounded soft. “There was a time she lived in the streets too when all her parents wanted was to fight with her. They never looked for her either, not even now.”

The avatar blinked slowly, her friend shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That is also why she is so overprotective of us... Of you, specially.” now the southerner had a confused look. “She wants to give people what she didn’t have for so long: a protector.” she explained and Korra took a deep breath in.

If Korra was about to be honest, the talk did helped her to understand you better, but not enough to get why even if she assured with everything she had that you could trust her and the team, you just didn’t see to believe her.

The next days she stopped picking up fights with you and concentrate more in making you trust her fully, it did make some difference, not the biggest changes she expected, but little steps were better than anything. And then, the attacks became more often; one followed by another until the group knew what was happening: a new affiliation of benders trying to take out the avatar because of the whole spirit situation, they wanted to "make the world back to what it was".

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We need to be careful,” Korra was saying on the passenger seat while Asami was driving. “We don't know what they are capable of just to win.”

You felt the blue eyes look at you. You knew what she tried to say, 'be careful, don't do anything stupid, that's why we are going as a team', your shoulders shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They can try.” you murmured, smiling.

Not even going as a surprise the group was able to have advantage over the association. In a matter of minutes they had you cornered in a hiding spot, defending yourselves as much as you could.

A grunt came from the avatar at your side and your reflexes were quick to catch her in time before her body could hit the floor. A clean cut on her arm bleeding was more than visible, you looked to the other side were the two brothers were already looking tired while throwing rocks and flames over to the attacker while covering the inventor who couldn’t help as such distance. Bitting your bottom lip you looked back to Korra who had a grimace of pain, tearing a bit of your shirt you tied it up over her wound.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You have to trust me.” you said out of nowhere while doing the knot, she frowned confused and nervous emerald orbs looked at her. “You do trust me, right?”

Her head nodded, still confused. “I do, but what–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you, Korra.” the interruption made her forget her words. “I know Asami told you about me, please know that all I want is to protect you, I want you to be safe even if that means I need to give myself up.”

Her sky colored eyes were looking for an answer in yours, but you were occupied trying to burn the memory of her face in your brain.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I trust you more than anyone else, I want to give you... I want you to take my heart,” you corrected yourself, shaking your head. “I want you to take everything I have, everything I own, because I know you will treat me like I need to be treated.”

A tiny whisper of your name fell from her mouth. “I know what you're trying to do, don't.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Guys! They're near!” Bolin's scream got in the way, Asami and him were covering Mako who got hit by a lightning on his shoulder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this.” you said in a chuckle, before taking a deep breath in. “I'm sorry.”

Without having the southerner notice, you had imprisoned her hands in one of your metal pieces. When she tried to stop you and realized her hands were tied, a scream of your name in such an angry and worry tone came from behind you.

Almost tripping on her own feet, she got to the other side with her friends and asked with desperation to Bolin to get the metal strip off of her with his lavabending and while the guy was working her eyes looked for you only to see you already bleeding and getting hit with rocks, but never giving up.

Even with blood and bruises, you were able to take down a big number of them. Some ran to hide to catch their breath leaving you with just another metalbender who was giving you a good fight. Looking to the ceiling, a plan was fast thought and giving everything you had to them you were able to make them step back down over a construction made of metal. A couple of metal strips were thrown their way to distract and after that, you tried to bring down the whole thing on them.

Even if it was working, they were able to take the metal strips off and shoot them back at you; since your arms were already occupied, you weren't fast enough to stop them and two of the metal pieces inserted into your abdomen.

Two voices mixed up in a scream, yours in pain and Korra's calling for you. A tired Bolin worked as fast as he could to get his friend out of the imprisonment.

Your opponent smiled with satisfaction and walked a couple of steps, having the metal deeper in the cut, with a little bit of momentum and all your strength left, you were able to tear down the construction on them; killing them or just making them unconscious it didn’t matter, the metal was way deep in your muscles that you couldn't feel any pain, just the way your hot blood was dripping down to your inferior part, soaking your shirt and part of your pants.

Once the avatar was freed, she got into the avatar state to finish the job of taking down the rest who was just appearing or got back into the field.

Too weak to take the metal out of you by bending or just pulling, you fell to your knees coughing blood. Your eyes were shifting, trying to focus on anything, scared that it could mean your last moments. You felt warm arms wrap around you, preventing your body from touching the cold floor. The southerner screamed for someone to get water.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, hey, stay with me, don't you dare close your eyes.” Korra said in such desperate manner, you were way too weak to say anything back. “Why doesn't anyone has water when I need it!?” she screamed while her friends were running to get water. “You're not alone, I'm with you.”

Unintelligibles whispers sounded on your mouth in such a soft manner that Korra thought at first you were only moving your mouth. Blood stained, a weak smile was painted in your lips and the avatar's eyes began to tear down.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't leave me, please, just hang on a little more.” she pleaded with shaky voice, slowly your hand was raised to brush her cheek, she didn’t matter the stain.

Your eyelids felt heavy, even if you could show much emotion, Korra could feel how scared you were. She was too, she didn’t want to lose you this way, not when she was able to stop it.

In a matter of moments, Bolin and Asami appear with a little bucket of water each just in case. The avatar felt a little bit more relieved and looked back at you, your eyes were fixated on the ceiling while they blinked in a dreamy way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry, it's going to hurt.” she said to you, you slowly got your eyes to focus on her and not even a second before, Korra bended the metal out of you having a high pitched scream as a response.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, I feel sick... I'll go see Mako.” Bolin said after witnessing everything.

With fast hands she waterbended over your wound while mumbling, your eyes closed suddenly and both girls feared for the worst. Korra couldn't feel your pulse for what it felt an eternity, she kept bending while tears built on her eyes and when she felt life signals from you and heard how you took a breath in, she relaxed herself and giggle a little bit.

After Korra stopped healing you when she knew it was okay to do so, everyone went to the Air Temple Island where Korra left you in her room. She had bandaged your whole torso and kept healing you every once in a while.

You woke up a whole two days after the events, your whole body felt like it was ran over and not to speak about your torso. Disoriented, you looked around, you were alone. With a bit of struggle you tried to sit yourself up between grunts and moans, letting your back rest in the headboard for a couple of seconds.

You were ready to stand up completely when the avatar's voice scolding you stopped any further movement.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” she asked, your eyes looked up at her and discover a frown. Her hands left the tray of water and bandage she was carrying on the nightstand. “Lay back down if you don't want another wound on you.”

She helped you get back in bed and was quick to take the water bowl. You looked at her hands moving over your bandages.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Korra...” you called hoarsely, she was way too fixated in what she was doing. “Korra!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you you didn’t have to fight alone!” she exclaimed back at you, shutting you up. When she looked back at you, she was teary-eyed. “You have no idea how scared I was when... when you didn’t respond.”

You stood in silence for a moment before speaking again. “I'm sorry... I just wanted to protect you.” she sniffed, taking one of your hands in hers.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And I just want to protect you.” she said back, your heart skipped a beat. “You have to be the most important thing I have right now, I love you in such a way that all I want to do is protect you from anything and anyone.”

For the first time in a long time, you were at a loss of words. Smiling in such a ephemeral way, a small grip was given to her hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Well, that means we have something in common.” you tried to joke with her, when trying to laugh it ended in a complaint because of the pain.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't think you're safe from any punishment.” your smile dropped, making Korra smile herself with malicious. “You're to stay resting for at least a whole month and no missions for two.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What!?” your eyes widened. “That's just playing cruel with me now.”

The southerner kneeled beside you and left a soft and shy kiss on your lips. Your hand cupped her face, when trying to deepen the gesture and have her nearer to you, Korra distanced herself.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “If I get to have more of those I can stay a whole year resting.” you said smiling again, Korra laughed before going for a second kiss, forgetting completely any fear or anger in her, opening the way for the love she started to accept for you.

[sparring-spirals]

hello. to the person who sent me the ask about how to navigate fandom being kind of Blegh especially after. Exciting (contentious) moments like these. hello i am. Incredibly tired and the quick answer I wanted to give has ballooned intonlike 15 paragraphs i am not coherent enough to edit down rn so. instead. my Most Critical TL;DR so i can edit and post the ask tmr.

FUCK this still got long. putting a readmore in sorry.

- Do not feel bad about curating your fandom experience! Seriously. Blocking people or even not acknowledging certain people's posts does not have to be like. A moral judgement or anything. Follow people who you want to follow. Get friends who you can yell privately with.

- Do not feel bad about stepping away if seeing discussion and discourse is making you feel objectively Worse. Fandom is not a moral obligation, and you dont do yourself or anyone else a favor by continuing to look at things that upset you and making yourself feel worse. I cannot emphasize this enough. If looking at fandom stuff is exclusively making you feel worse, do yourself a kind gesture and. stop looking. u can leave. hit da bricks. etc.

- like related to the above, unfortunately there will always be some people who are just. Wrong On The Internet. You will not convince or correct them all. Nor can you stop them from posting. This is kind of something you just need to live with. Discussion and exploration of various views can be very beneficial! Just like. Yknow. Pick your battles.

- IMO People get really weird about character conflict and it gets quickly into Morally Right Vs Morally Wrong territory PLUS weird projections onto the cast. I have lots of opinions about this but i need to sleep so lets just say. People get weird. Emotions run high. feel free to disengage.

- There's been a lot of Events in the campaign recently, and being disappointed one way or another is understandable. There are different ways to approsch that particular sensation/feeling, but I'd say the biggest thing thats helped me is generally steering away from assuming malice or ill intent from the cast, as well as avoiding getting too caught up in assuming the story I am expecting is the only good iteration that can be told.

oh god this got so long. anyway sorry to the asker ill post the answer maybe tomorrow once ive slept and like. can edit. hopefully this is helpful in the meantime. to folks following me who did Not ask for me on a soapbox. i am very sorry. there will be more.

[sortasirius]

I...have some (a whole fucking lot) of thoughts (this will be messy an hopefully I'll be more coherent later)

Firstly...that was just an insane amount of buddie content, I actually think i might rewatch both episodes tomorrow just because I feel like i missed things and I Love Angst.

Let's start with the shooting itself, beyond the fact that it was so shocking to the audience (me)...how shocking it was to Buck. How the blood splattered all over him, how they looked at each other before Eddie fell. Eddie...reaching for Buck? (I'm not sure if 'm hallucinating this or that really happened).

And then, how Buck crawled under the rig in the gunfire to get to him, drag him with him, make sure that he wasn't going to be left behind. Getting him in the rig, telling him to hold on, just hold on, hold on for me, please. The way he's left behind as Eddie is taken into the ER, how someone asks him if he's okay and he just sort of whispers "no" to himself.

Buck having to tell Chris, the way he's shaking when Taylor finds him, how he breaks down in front of Chris, how he starts sobbing, how he breaks into pieces even when he's trying so hard to hold it together.

And the clear way he wants to die, how he wishes it was him, how he tempts fate climbing that crane because he wants to die. Sure, part of it's a guilt thing, and I think some of what he said to Bobby was true (the idea that he couldn't bear to have anyone else in the house hurt, so he did it himself), but I genuinely felt like part of it was a "If I couldn't save you, I'd rather die. If you go, I go. I can't live without you, and I'll just take myself off the board, because it would be better that way."

He says some of this to Eddie, how it would have been better if he had gotten shot, and I think that's a huge part of his whole character. He's just lucky that he's so likeable because otherwise no one would ever want him. He's useless, and Eddie? To Buck, Eddie is everything. His best friend, a great father, a great person, there aren't enough words to describe what Eddie means to him. Why would he live if Eddie couldn't. the world would be better off.

And you can see Eddie want to say something about it, but he's likely (understandably) too tired and they could be interrupted so he doesn't get his chance and just has to sit with this idea that Buck thinks everyone would be better off if he died.

Then...that last conversation in the hospital, of Eddie telling Buck that he'd be Chris' guardian if something happened to him. Not his parents, not Shannon's, not their other family...Buck. Because to Chris (and to Eddie), Buck is worth more than his weight in gold. They love him both so much, he is not replaceable. The way Eddie tells him that, the force of it, like he's trying to make Buck hear it, really really hear it.

"You're not replaceable, how could you ever be replaceable? Look where you sit in our lives, how you slot comfortably in a place you always should have been."

He can't say that, but it really feels like that's what he means. It feels like there's so much left hanging in the air, unsaid, a sort of "truth we both know" situation.

I'll have more to say, I need to rewatch them both, but that was the most intense hour I've experienced in a long time, it is insane how much I have come to love each and every character in this show.