#how much goods can be found in any ration card
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gguk-n · 2 months ago
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if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??
She doesn’t like cars
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{Reader’s POV}
I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.
I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing milk at the grocery store when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” he quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.
We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.
We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby, I know this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with more races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.
Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver?” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?
Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.
My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco; I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.
“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you are, now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss
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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 3 months ago
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ੈ✩‧₊“ 𝙨𝙤 𝙞'𝙢𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 ”✧.*
“ i’d wanna hold you, just for a while ”
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↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace zayne x reader centric fic based on 4* doomsday card— early birthday piece!❞
﹥*:ꔫ:*+゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤
zayne was ever the nonchalant person.
even after hearing about the potential doomsday, he continued as if it were business as usual. something about his ability to keep his cool, perhaps it was tied to his evol.
you on the other hand, were not as composed no matter how much zayne seemed to tease.
“you really believe that an article can predict such an event with no substantial proof?” he would chuckle as he threw in another pastry into your shared shopping cart
of course you knew better, but the seeds of doubt and anxiety had already been planted in your mind. rationally speaking there would be more articles about it, more media coverage— but you couldn’t help but feel like the post landed on your feed for a reason. after all if it wasn’t true why did you have to see it?
you continued to chastise zayne who was careless about his sugar intake, as if he didn’t just recently recover from a toothache. at the very least he could’ve waited until it was his birthday where he could have his mandatory sugar.
his birthday.
if the world was set to end today, if a meteor was meant to wipe them and the rest of the world out…
then zayne wouldn’t see his 28th birthday.
the thought was a permanent damper on your mood as you continued to shop for snacks and ingredients for dinner.
it didn’t go unnoticed by him, even as the day dragged on and the two of you were in his home cooking up dinner. it was obvious you were distracted, bumbling about in his kitchen.
“your food’s burning.” he’d murmur as he took the spatula from your hand
“hey..! how can i show off my awesome cooking skills if you don’t let me cook..!” you couldn’t help but huff
“if we keep this up we’d be wasting our last moments cleaning up the kitchen.” he tried to poke fun at the situation but winced when he noticed how you just deflated even more
“i recently bought some new games if you’d like to see..?”
you perked up slightly at the mention of a distraction, giving him a weak smile.
“i’ll give them a look.”
as soon as you left the kitchen and made yourself comfortable on the soft plush of the carpet to look through his video game collection, you couldn’t help but regret leaving his side. perhaps with the impending feeling of doom you couldn’t help but feel clingy.
you looked through the games, some seeming familiar and others not so much. you’d hope looking through the collection would ease your mind or at the very least distract you but you found yourself missing him even more.
what if the meteor hit right this moment and you two were apart—
“you don’t recognize that game because the last time you played you fell asleep.”
his words snapped you from your thoughts as he emerged from the kitchen, carrying two plates. he set the steaming food onto the tabletop as he got comfortable on the couch.
“girl who saves the world is a new one, we can play that one after we eat.” he motioned for you to sit next to him
so that’s what you did, enjoying your (potentially last) meal in his company at peace save for a bit of small talk here and there before the two of you decided to pick up the new game. but even he could tell your typically competitive demeanor was dampened, if anything as time went on— you were more focused on the clock rather than the screen.
each tick of the clock was deafening to you as the uneasy feeling continued to pool in your stomach.
“you’re not exactly any good at this game, not to mention your lack of concentration.” his words pulled your head back up for air
caught off guard you couldn’t help but splutter out in protest, wanting to call him all sorts of ridiculous but you just… couldn’t.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you simply state
“so we’re lying as well?”
you couldn’t help but huff in defeat as you set your controller aside.
“and you’re giving up?”
you scrunch up your face at his words before taking his controller away as well.
“as if you were any better than me— i’m giving up for your sake..! you should just do the same!” you scoff before tossing the two controllers away
zayne could sense your agitation, or rather the anxious feeling that was gnawing at your stomach.
“i’d appreciate it if we avoided breaking my things—”
“how are you so calm?!” you cut him off, finally breaking the tension that was clearly in the air
you felt like your world was in shambles yet he didn’t bat an eye, you didn’t know if you were angry or jealous of his calm demeanor.
“whatever do you mean?”
“don’t be coy with me..!” you poked at his face
“the world’s literally gonna end in like what..? four? five minutes..? and you’re just… okay with it?” his lack of fear was mind boggling to you
he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as his hand enveloped your wrist to prevent any more poking.
“ah, so that’s what’s been bothering you?” he shook his head in amusement
“it’s not funny..! it’s like you’re not nervous in the slightest!” you protest like it wasn’t fair
“what’s there to be nervous about?” he couldn’t kick the hint of amusement in his tone
“we’ve had our dinner which was plenty filling, speaking of— we should probably clean up…”
his nonchalance was pushing you to your breaking point.
“so what? you’re just okay with this? we could literally die and you’re just worried about cleaning up? do you even care?” you couldn’t hide the frustration and snark in your tone before shrinking back, you didn’t even know why this was effecting you so much and why you were taking it out on him of all people. for all you know, it most likely wasn’t real.
but what if it was?
zayne’s expression couldn’t help but soften as he pulled you closer into his arms.
“so it’s like that hm?”
your throat tightens as you bury your head against his chest.
“it’s stupid… it’s probably not even real… but i’m scared zayne.” you grumble
he runs a hand through your hair in a soothing manner.
“okay, how about this…”
he pulled away slightly to reveal two pieces of the chocolate cake he snuck in the shopping cart earlier, you couldn’t help but tilt your head at him in confusion.
“we can make a wish.”
you immediately think of the birthday he won’t make it to.
“you make a wish… it’s your birthday that’s almost soon anyways.” you grumble burying your head back into his chest
“ah, so that is true.”
he began to ponder quietly.
“i don’t think i have any specific wishes, if anything… i’d say they all came true if i’m being honest.” he hums softly
you couldn’t help but look up at him, your nose scrunched in confusion.
“all we did was shop for groceries and cook… we didn’t even play video games all that much and i got on you for having sweets when you’re not supposed to.” you frown
“what? is that not exciting enough for you?” he couldn’t help but chuckle
“it’s not exciting for anyone! it’s just normal stuff..” you sulk a bit
his hand that was typically cold held a unusual warmth as he placed it on your cheek, guiding your eyes to his.
“sometimes the most mundane things become ever the more precious.” he chuckles softly
“frankly, if a meteor really did hit the earth today… i’d be the happiest man alive because i got to spend it with you.”
you couldn’t help but bury your head into his chest once more.
“don’t say stuff like that, you’re gonna make me cry..!” you huff out
he let out an airy laugh.
“well, we can’t have that— not when there’s just a mere few seconds before doomsday.”
your eyes widened as you immediately take his wrist into your hands to look at his watch, the seconds counting down.
you couldn’t help but panic as you frantically figure out what to do, but big warm hands keep your face in place.
“perhaps maybe there’s one more agent of normalcy we could have before our final moments.” he murmurs softly as he rests his forehead against yours
“i’m afraid.” you mumble out, you wanted to close your eyes but the warmth from his calmed you ever so slightly
“i’ve got you.” the weight of his words hushed the storm in your head before he pulled you close, his lips finding yours
the kiss was a light, fleeting moment— yet it felt like it lasted a million lifetimes.
then he pulled you tight to his chest.
——————————————
it had been almost two hours since the time the alleged meteor was supposed to hit.
zayne stayed awake as he continued to stroke the back of your head as you now laid on top of him against his chest. he didn’t have the heart to pull you from him after the first few minutes and even now, only feeling your grip loosen when he realized you had fallen asleep.
perhaps the stress of it all really did exhaust you.
he couldn’t help but let out a quiet humorous chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you were warm, you were alive. he was alive.
and he’d love you every time like it was the last time.
❀° ┄───╮
a/n: omg does anyone else remember back in 2012 when they said december 12th was gonna be the end of the world? something to do with the mayan calendar ending or something I don’t remember but eight year old me was in SHAMBLES like even the news put fucking meteors in the weather forecast that day it was SICK omg like when i tell you i snitched on myself and then told everyone i loved them before hiding under a table… not my best moment tbh
anywhozies i wanted to capture that emotion because im obviously projecting LMAO, no but seriously you cannot speak to me about the world ending or like apocalyptic events like i’d become inconsolable
also… this is lowkey my contribution to zanye aka love of my life’s birthday! my favorite virgo i love him so much it’s not even funny—
yall school is starting up soon im so cooked but like live laugh love i guess
i’ll see you next time loves 🫶🏾
╰───┄ °❀
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nikki-is-a-nerd · 1 year ago
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Karma is my Boyfriend
Synopsis:
You may not have any plans on exacting revenge to those who've wronged you, but when karma hits them it's no mystical thing, It's just your boyfriend who remembers everything.
Note: NO CURSE AU, Gojo x AFAB!reader, Freelancer!Gojo x College student! Reader
___________________________________
College isn't as easy going as your parents told you, neither was it your most memorable time. It was school, and like all things it had its ups and downs. For a person studying Clinical Psychology, you found that learning to read people and constantly being surrounded by them, wasn't a good mix. Yes, you have bullies, though you are annoyed by their actions your rational mind knows that the only reason they pick on you is because they either feel powerless towards the adult figures in their life or they point out your flaws that they too see in themselves in hopes of transferring their insecurities. Pitiful actions really. Satoru believed you were a saint because of it. How could you, an angel (in his very humble and true opinion, as he once so kindly exclaimed) be so understanding to the slimy, filth of the earth kind of people. Good question.
"Look at her, how can her boyfriend stand to look at her face all day? She looks like a corpse reanimated." A voice cackled.
"I'm surprised you even know what that word means. Let me guess, it was the word for the day?" You said off handedly.
Her friends or posse, glared at you. Like you cared. They snickered to themselves as you suddenly felt a warm liquid cascade down your body.
"Oops, now you look exactly like you should." Their leader laughs, a shrill sound really.
You didn't really care but this was a very expensive sweater that Satoru bought you with his first paycheck for one of his gigs. You sighed, sure he would say something along the lines of 'its alright, I can buy you fifteen more of those' or 'that sweater was so last season, now I can buy you something new' but this was your favorite. You wordlessly took off your now ruined sweater and walked away. A ruined sweater wasn't worth getting called to the dean's office.
Now Satoru was a lot of things, model, gamer, streamer, dance choreographer, substitute teacher for a high school (you don't really get how he keeps getting that), and in his words your loving rich boyfriend. But what you didn't know is that he's petty and vengeful to a fault. He believes that if you wouldn't do it, might as well he does because you are too empathetic for your own good (thank God you were studying to be a therapist). Now you may not tell Satoru about the bullies but Suguru does. You didn't know that Suguru was in the same university taking his Master's degree in business, and coincidentally just taking a video of the entire exchange to send to your lovely boyfriend. Yes, weird but in Satoru's defense his friends like you more than they like him (he's not entirely wrong).
Satoru received a message from Suguru, minutes after you walked away from your bullies. This day was his Streaming day, so mid stream his fans would say that it was the first time they've seen him frown. He kindly apologized to his fans and ended the stream early that day. He knew you weren't one to complain, or to tell him what happened. So he wordlessly shops online to get you a better and cheap (in his opinion cheap means something your bullies can't afford even if they used their daddies black card) sweater that you were sure to love.
"Toru I'm home." he hears your voice call out.
He smooths out his features, and smiles when he sees you enter your shared room. He also takes note that you probably used the university shower since you're wearing a different blouse and cardigan (both bought by him on your twenty-first birthday).
"Sweetie! Your home!" He lunges at you, long limbs and all.
"Toru, you're heavy and tall!" You whined.
"You left me all alone here in our home and when I show you how much I miss you, you complain." He sulks in a corner, making you laugh lightly.
"Not what I meant and I had to go to school." You reasoned.
"Take me with you." He whined even more, somehow reminding you of a kicked puppy.
"Tried that and do you remember what happened?" You asked.
"Not really, I just knew that I was ripped away from my darling baby!" He exclaimed as he walked towards the bed and flopped on it.
You shook your head as you opted to cuddle close to your boyfriend. You were exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically. Satoru was more than happy to provide you comfort. As you slept, he checked out the people in the video that Suguru sent him. He remembers their faces, their leader, he remembers is also a model for the same brand he models with. She would brag about getting the job because of her father. He was close friends with the brand owner, after all she was his senior.
"Mei-mei, remember that one really annoying model of yours?" He messaged.
"Yeah, what about her?" She replied.
"Can you just terminate her contract and fire her?" He asked.
"Sure. I'd let Utahime deal with the rest. Plus she barely does shit. I didn't even hire her, I specifically said no, and her god father who works in the stupid casting still got her. Fired him too. But why do you want her gone?" She texted back.
"Bullied my girlfriend." Was all he replied. Mei-mei only sent him a thumbs up. Next were her friends, which was way easier. They were rich kids, just staying in the school because their parents were paying for them to be there, even with all the violations they had. Did it help that he was from a distinguished family and that Suguru was willing to play a part as well? Yes. Suguru's family and his family all petitioned for all four of your bullies to be expelled from the University and any of its sister schools, they complained that scandals like these were not worth protecting.
When you went to uni next week, you were surprised to see all four of your bullies having their things and themselves removed from the premises. You eyed them curiously and went about your day. You thought that maybe they were found doing something they shouldn't but they were rich, don't rich people buy their way out of their problems? Nonetheless you were kind of glad.
When you returned home, you found Satoru cooking in the kitchen. He's been proud of his skill as well after he took some classes since he felt bad having to make you cook dinner after your uni and your part time job.
"Welcome back? How was your day?" Satoru asked.
"Work was fine, the cafe was packed today. School was also fine. Saw some people get escorted out of uni." You said.
"Ooh, tell me all about it." He said as if he wasn't the reason.
"Well, the ones who were escorted out were notorious bullies. I mean who remains a bully well into college? Like what fucked up psyche must you have to do that? But they were also my bullies so a part of me was glad." You said the last part softly.
"Did you say they were bullying you? Baby you should've told me. I would've given them a piece of my mind." He cooed. He should really get an award for how well he's acting right now.
"Yeah but it's nothing." You said as you clung to him.
"Well at least they won't bother you anymore." He said truthfully.
"Yeah. Karma really got them in the end." You said as you looked up at him with a small grin.
"Yeah, I told you so, Miss Taylor Swift is correct." He said playfully.
"Now let's eat dinner and watch the really cute anime we found." He added as he sat you down.
Yes, karma really got them in the end but just like what Taylor Swift also sang about. Karma is your Boyfriend, and he truly will do anything to keep you happy. Even if he seems petty.
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sixhours · 9 months ago
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Chapter 2 - The Ghosts of Babylon
Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete
Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3
~*~
Boston QZ March 2024
You were one of the lucky ones.
After the initial outbreak and the chaos that followed, you were protected, ushered into a covered military caravan and housed in relative safety. You were only a resident, but your medical experience made you valuable. Most doctors had been infected in the early hours.
Most of them hadn’t run.
If you had been anyone else, you think you would have been shot. Instead, the military sent you to the quarantine zone in Boston, and you were drafted into FEDRA without ever having signed your name on the line.
Your cowardice in the face of danger was your saving grace, and you will never let yourself forget it.
You’re six years into the pandemic when you’re summoned to the colonel’s office for a special request. FEDRA wants you to travel to a sparsely populated territory outside the QZ and embed yourself there, do threat assessments, and send the intel back to your higher-ups. They frame it as an outreach program for recruitment and a means to get ahead of terrorist threats, but you understand the unspoken implications.
They want you to be a spy.
You protest, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. You know they aren’t offering you a choice.
You train for combat and survival. You learn how to shoot, how to run, how to fight, and how to hide. And then FEDRA packs you up and sends you off into the wilderness of what used to be Pennsylvania, joining a small outpost east of Pittsburgh. There are no terrorist threats to be found, only starving, freezing civilians, hordes of infected, and so much desperation.
You return, six months older and with only a few bruises, so they send you out again. And again. And again.
As it turns out, you make a good soldier. You don’t ask what FEDRA does with the information you find, and they don’t tell you.
On your fourth mission, you come back with more than bruises. The burgh of Everglade, forty miles north of a ruined Jacksonville, Florida, wasn’t as welcoming as you would have hoped. You’d been savagely beaten and sent back to Boston, less weapons and supplies, a walking warning.
Don’t fuck with us, FEDRA.
But there’s a hard seed of grit in you that felt fair was fair, that you deserved whatever punishment you got. You sutured your gashes, reset your broken nose, and took your next assignment.
~*~
By the time Joel Miller and Ellie Williams are staggering across the Jackson threshold for the second time, in the spring of 2024, you’re opening the door of your Boston QZ apartment to a man in weathered FEDRA fatigues.
“Hey,” he says, barely meeting your eyes. “Waller wants to see you.”
“When?”
“0800 hours.”
“Fine,” you say. He doesn’t respond, lingering in the doorway until you’re forced to ask, “Anything else?”
He ducks his head. “Got any plans tonight?”
“I do if you have the money.”
Unsurprisingly, FEDRA doesn’t pay well–doctor, spy, or shit-shoveler. But you’ve found other ways to get by.
The man– a boy, really , you think–reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled stack of ration cards. You take your time counting them before pocketing the payment and stepping aside to let him enter.
His hands are on you before you can finish closing the door, greedy and wanting. You let him push you up against the wall, tipping your head to give him access to your neck, already tuning out his gasps and moans and clumsy thrusts.
~*~
Afterward, he’s panting on your mattress, and you’re fumbling on the nightstand for a lighter.
“You know those things’ll kill you,” he mumbles.
“Fascinating,” you respond dryly, finding the lighter and putting the cigarette to your lips. You allow yourself one long, slow inhale. You hold the smoky air in your lungs as long as you can, savoring that first and only hit, before tamping the cigarette out and rolling it up in a piece of foil for later. “You can go.”
You feel his hand slide over your ass and you flinch away, standing and gathering your clothes from the floor.
“C’mon, baby. I gave you extra.”
“Yeah, and you shorted me five last time. Go.”
He growls. “Fuckin’ bitch.”
You ignore this, slipping a clean-enough tank top over your head, pulling on your jeans, and heading for the kitchen. You’re putting a kettle of water on the hot plate when you hear the metallic snick of a blade behind you.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
You tense, listening, waiting, until you feel the hint of a blade at the side of your throat.
“How about you suck me off next time and we’ll call it even,” he whispers, breath hot in your ear.
You dive to one side, wrapping the man’s arm with your own, knocking the knife away. It skitters across the floor, lost under the radiator. Your left hand grips the man’s wrist and pulls it back as you slam your right hand into his shoulder, forcing him down against the counter. You twist his arm until you imagine you can hear the tendons creaking.
The man screams in pain and surprise. “Whoa no shit I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m fucking sorry don’t–”
You slam your full body weight against him and twist his arm back and up with a sharp snap , his wrist giving under your practiced hands. Another scream, this one feral, as you release the man’s arm.
“You broke my fucking wrist you fucking cunt!”
“Fuck off or I’ll break the other one,” you pant, shoving him toward the door.
“You’ll fucking hang for this!”
“Yeah?” you spit. “You say one word and I’ll make sure your dick never touches another girl in this QZ because it’ll be sitting in a jar on my fucking desk.”
He sneers, but there’s no threat in it. He slouches backward with an angry sob, cradling his broken hand and fumbling with the door, all the while trying to keep his eyes trained on you.
You lock the door behind him and slide the deadbolt home with unnecessary force. 
Fuck.
~*~
Colonel Waller doesn’t look up at you when you enter his office, his greeting just a single word.
“Wyoming.”
You frown. You’ve never been west of Ohio.
“We lost an asset in Utah. Fireflies.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. ‘Shit’ is about the shape of it,” he sighs, finally looking up from his paperwork. “We had someone in KC but they’ve gone radio silent. We assume the worst.”
“So…I take it the target’s in Wyoming?”
He nods. “We suspect several Fireflies are holed up in a town called Jackson. It’s big,” he continues, sliding you a sheaf of folded maps across the desk. “Our scouts…haven’t made out so well.”
“How many came back?”
He looks at you blankly.
None.
“We need to know how many warm bodies, how much firepower, do they have patrols and when, are they collaborating with anyone else in the area. We need–”
“I got it,” you say, pocketing the map, an aching exhaustion deep in your gut. “When?”
“There’s a supply run headed west tomorrow. You’ll camp with them until KC, then make your way in on foot. We expect radio contact every six weeks; if we don’t hear anything by then–”
“You’ll assume I’m dead,” you finish.
He interlocks his fingers. “Any questions?”
You shake your head.
He nods and goes back to his work. “Dismissed.”
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libraryofneith · 2 years ago
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Out of Mind Chapter 1 (Joel Miller x Reader)
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Chapter 2
This is my first The Last of Us fanfic : D This is based on the HBO show, not the video game - i don’t know how to video game. I’m also still getting to grips with how Tumblr works so if my fanfics don’t look as swish as some other fics do, bear that in mind. If you have any tips let me know! I’m also on AO3 under the same username and I tend to update that first. You can check out this fic and my others here.  
Summary:  You're a pickpocket trying to make a living in the Boston QZ, what happens when you cross two of the most dangerous smugglers in the city? 
Well if you've read any TLOU self-inserts, or any self inserts at all for that matter, you can probably guess : )This is probably gonna be a long one, we're talking some serious slow cooking here. But I promise you it will be worth it. There is gonna be some serious lemony goodness when it comes, like really really lemony, so look away ye minors or people of delicate sensibilities (no seriously i mean it).Until that comes we're gonna have it all - morally ambiguous characters, angst, more trauma than you can shake an hbo show at, hurt and comfort, maybe a little fluff if you ask nicely and so. much. pining!!!!!
Preview:  You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ.
Warnings/Tags: [18+ minors DNI], Boston QZ era Joel, Pre-Ellie, not Tess slander, reader and Tess are friends, slow burn, like really slow burn, slow roast cooker here, mutual pining, age gap - reader is 27 and Joel is 50, he’s my depiction of a fictional character and I’ll thirst if I want to, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma, attempts at healing, not everything about these characters and their relationships is healthy but it’s an apocalypse so sue me. 
Joel
Today was not a good day.
The sun was beating down unrelenting on Joel as he stalked through the streets of Boston trying to get as far away from the unconscious FEDRA soldier as humanly possible. Apparently that little shit thought that five ration cards for a bag of anti-depressants actually meant three ration cards and a gun in his face. The only thing Joel had taken away from that trade was the look on the guard's face when his fist connected with his jaw. At least he'd gotten the drugs back. If he'd come back to the apartment with ration cards and the stash gone Tess would've been pissed - or more pissed than she was already going to be. Maybe if he stopped by the courtyard he could trade with...
Oof!!!
Joel cursed as he crashed headlong into some stupid girl.
"Oh shit sorry."
He gave no response to her apology except a grunt.
"Oh... shit, sorry," she repeated, the words now laced with innuendo. "Wouldn't want to harm a hair on your lil' head." Who's that short-ass calling little'?
"Don't sweat it. Takes more than a bump to bring me down."
"Oo I bet it does." She was standing toe-to-toe with him now, eyes glinting, her hand stroking up and down his arm. "I wonder what it takes to bring you down." Her hand lingered and her smile threatened to draw him in and for a moment, he almost found himself leaning towards her. Then he snapped back to reality and brushed her off.
"Sorry. Not interested." Last thing he needed today was Tess giving him the cold shoulder all night. Still, he let his eyes follow her a little. She was too young for him by half but no harm in looking. Just looking. She wasn't unattractive, not unattractive at all. Like almost everyone in the QZ she looked like she'd seen better days but there was something in the way she walked, bounced almost, like she was ready to take on every fucker who tried her. And her eyes... shit. Her eyes had caught him staring. She flashed him another smile but he tore himself away, already burning her image out of his mind. A cold shower, a few pills, and a glass of whisky and it'd be gone.
"Took you long enough." Tess was already nursing a bottle when he got home.
"Hello to you too."
"What happened?" Joel sighed. He could never keep anything from her.
"Stupid fuckin' kid wouldn't pay up. Things turned ugly."
"You ok?"
"Yeah, but if that FEDRA bastard wakes up he's gonna have one hell of a headache." Tess grinned.
"So you got the stash back?"
"Yup. Gottit right he-" Tess's face fell and Joel's stomach sank as he pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with marbles, not pills.
"Joel what the fuck?!"
"Someone must've switched the bags."
"Without you noticing, how?"
"I don't know." His entire body was quivering with rage.
"Maybe it was that stupid FEDRA kid..."
"No. He's not that smart." The apartment was filled with a stony silence as he tracked back everything that had happened after the deal had gone south. He knew he had the bag after. Then he'd gone straight home, he hadn't seen or spoken to anyone after. Well, except...
"Oh." Then it dawned on him.
"What?"
"That fucker."
"What Joel. Who was it??"
He could picture her now. The glint in her eyes, that confident stride as she walked away from him, that smile, that damn smile.
"I'm gonna kill her."
---
You
You grinned as you examined the bag. One week's worth of happy pills. And after you met with Robert that bag would be seven ration cards.
You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ. You'd still have to lay low for the next few weeks until Tess and Joel gave up on finding you. From what you'd heard these people were not to be fucked with. Of course you had anyway but after tomorrow you'd be able to kick back and relax until your supplies ran out. Tiny Dancer blasted through your walkman as you laid back on your mattress surrounded by books, sweets, cigarettes and everything else that almost no one but you had.
Things were finally looking up.
Hope you enjoy, more to come. Like and reblog if you enjoyed, if you didn’t send it to your enemies.
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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year ago
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Hello!!! I hope you're well. I want to ask you if I'm the only one who thinks that Víctor wasn't his mom's priority... I don't want to upset anyone, but I feel like his mom abandoned him a bit when she went to Paris, and she didn't care much about what will happen with little Vic, as at one point we are even told "Although I don't understand why Mommy had to go so far to work as a teacher, she had been visibly grumpy for a while (...) But luckily, ever since she went to France, I've seen smiles on her face again." I feel like the lady prioritizes herself, and she won't care how much Victor needed her. Sorry for such a long comment LOL. And again, I know many revere the lady, and I don't want to offend anyone, I just want to know if anyone else saw this.
hello! I’ve been doing much better lately, thank you! hope you’re doing well too~ ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ಡ
there’s no need to walk on eggshells, haha. and to be very honest with you, no you’re not the only one. i’ve had similar conversations with other players both on global and CN before (even had one yesterday with @/thedummysdummy after seeing your ask), and have read the CN players’ different analyses on it before too.
if you want my personal take on the matter, it’s one of those moments as the omniscient audience, y'know? and precisely because we’re shown the entire picture, it becomes harder to decide whether you want to be rational about it or be driven by human emotions. but one thing I would say first, regardless of what went down, it’s a wonder that he was so mature beyond his years since childhood and grew up to be the wonderful man he is today, given that when you really think about it just how easily he could’ve grown up with traumas/ or some form of abandonment issues considering his childhood experiences and how deeply sentimental he is. to borrow MC’s words, the grand miracle indeed.
��
✦ regarding Victor’s mom and her moving to Paris permanently:
from Victor’s contents throughout the years, we know that Victor’s mom and dad would talk on the phone for hours on end (3rd birthday story), his dad would still call his mom’s number after she had passed away (4th birthday story, and just like how Victor used to as we found out in the Rooftop Date story), he would send her gifts and stuffs when little Victor went to visit his mom (Sea-circle event story) etc., indicating they had a good relationship. Victor’s mom had her ring on in his 3rd birthday card, which meant they were still together. And despite all this, you can feel that cord of dissonance between them— we never got any mentions of Victor’s dad visiting her, and Victor’s mom moving away from her beloved and child permanently like that really doesn’t sing harmony either. but then again, we can’t make any assumptions given that we don’t know what really went down between them.
another point to note, Victor had spent a good share of his early childhood in Èze, France at his maternal grandparents’ (S1 CH 37 R&S, Passing the Winter ASMR). Later on, his mom permanently moved to France when he was 7 years old (or rather moved back), and even her cemetery is in France. This makes you wonder if she never got over her homesickness/ adapted to this country? What exactly was her illness, especially since there’s no details on that end?
again, his mother loved him, like you expect a mother to love their kids, undoubtedly. But it’s the harsh reality when you have working parents, who also happen to have their own ambitions to chase after.
✦ and that brings us to how this affected little Victor:
y'know his maturity beyond his years is both a blessing and a curse. I can vouch for that from my personal experiences too, haha :> anyway,
« it’s a curse, because » when I was going through the sea-circle event you quoted from, all I could think about was just how deep his selflessness is rooted in. he was a 7 year old for god’s sake— but all he wanted was for his parents to be happy, no matter how much it pained him. and you know what happens as a result? people take you for granted. his parents loved him dearly, yes, but they were absent for most of his life.
he mastered the French cuisine when he was only 11-12 years old (S2 30-33 R&S), because his mom was already settled in Paris and his dad could never be home. he never told anyone about his Evol, never told anyone about the orphanage kidnapping incident and losing MC in that horrific situation. and he kept searching for her in however ways a little kid could without ever telling anyone, until he grew up and built his piller himself for more effective and thorough approach e.g., appointing a detective etc.
he learned stock market handlings when he was only 14 years old to earn for himself and bear his responsibilities (e.g., paying for Yan Yan and the kid), so that he could grow up fast. because he did not want to be a burden nor did he want to rely on anyone for what he wanted to do (4th birthday story).
human emotions are very fragile and delicate. once smashed, they are nearly impossible to piece together, just like broken shards. tbh, the gradual negligence and feeling of loneliness can leave scars even deeper than a traumatic event. wonder why he built that armor for himself and the writers emphasize how he’d have succumbed to that life of loneliness and solitude had it not been for MC stepping into his barren desert? and not to mention, his Evol itself is the biggest curse on him, paving the road to perpetual loneliness and solitude.
────
« it’s a blessing, because » again, what comes under the light here is just how mature he’s always been. you can see how despite his obvious disappointment, loneliness, pains — he never once let himself “feel”/ ponder the direction that he was being left behind. even when he felt too worn down to bear, he directed his thoughts to his parents’ happiness. and when you think about how throughout the years, we’ve seen him clinging onto every little shard of his mom he could find — you can see the budding of negative impacts were right there on the other side of the threshold, but he never allowed himself to cross that door. *points wildly at Winter World Victor and S2 CH 46 amnesia Victor*
as he grew up, he split his attention to different plates, kept himself busy and occupied to never allow that seed to be sprouted. he let himself be content and never expected anything more (flashbacks to his 5th birthday date).
and you see this coming into the surface in his relationship with MC— how despite his suffocating schedule with all the responsibilities he has— he still manages to rip out even a little bit of time for only MC, his most precious lover, out of his daily schedule and makes the effort to make every moment count, proves to her how he takes each of her words, however big and small, to heart and puts them into action.
ever wonder why “quality time” is one of his primary love languages? there’s your answer on a silver platter. (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠)
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windvexer · 2 years ago
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Thanks for answering my last ask, because well… I’ve been going by the book for literally EVERY CARD, pulling muddled readings 60% and then pulling more cards when cards don’t make sense to me, and I’ve been wondering where I went wrong. *obviously I know the whole “your personal method works best” but in this case it’s not working for me* But yeah, thank you chicken, it was really helpful bc I’ve been hitting a wall for a while and I think I needed to hear this.
Here is one way of reading tarot as a simple oracle which does not use spreads.
As far as I'm aware this is my original system. For me, it provides sterling omens that can be arrived at simply enough (once you are used to it) without using the book meanings.
The problem with book definitions is that sometimes they are very difficult to associate to any specific problem, and not everyone can read intuitively.
So perhaps you'd like to try elemental dignities. First, assign each card one of the four Western elements (earth/air/fire/water). This is easily done for the suits. The task is more difficult for major arcana. Lists of major arcana elements can be found.
Or, simply take all the major arcana out of the deck.
Next, assign a few qualities to each element. These qualities may be ones that also make sense for spellwork or other rituals, but remember that here our goal is divination, and it's fine to assign qualities that only make sense for divination.
Here is a starter list if you'd like to use my qualities:
Fire (wands): Very fast (the fastest). Passion and desire (carnal and otherwise). Intensity. Aligns with questions of want, creativity, and fulfillment. The spark of life and what makes us "glow." Force to get the job done quickly.
Air (swords): Fast. The mind and intellectual pursuits. Knowledge, rationality, objective truth. Matters of learning, education, and skills. Aligns with questions of knowledge, truth. Deceit and betrayal. Cleverness to get the job done precisely.
Water (cups): Slow. The heart, subconscious, and the current that runs underneath things. Feelings, poetry, and subjective truth. Matters of emotions, relationships, and bonds that tie. Aligns with questions of motivation, feeling, and wellbeing. Wisdom to get the job done best.
Earth (pentacles): Very slow. The physical bodies of things, and the institutions and structures that we use to care for and manage bodies, and create physical things. Labor, money, wealth, debt. Matters of physicality (a friend being present in body, versus in spirit). Discipline to get the job done completely.
Alright. Now, if you don't work with elements very much, you may actually need to spend some time getting on the same page with them. That's alright - it's part of the fun! (and good exercise if you want to expand your elemental sorcery)
Because next, what you've got to do is assign an element to your question.
I can't remember if you said or not what your original spell was about, that you were reading on.
But let's say that it was a job spell. To me, that would be an Earth question. If it was about a person discovering a career path that they're passionate about, maybe that would be a Fire question. If it was about discovering a career path that is best for their wellbeing, perhaps that would be a Water question.
There is a lot of ambiguity here (is a question about a friend who is a suspected backstabber in the workplace an earth, water, or air question?) but all you've got to do is pick the element you think works best for your question.
Alrighty. So we've cast a Fire spell, let's say, and we need to know how it will go. All the major arcana have been taken out of the deck. Now, find the Wheel of Fortune and shuffle it back into the deck.
Shuffle shuffle shuffle.
Hold the deck face-up, so the pictures are facing you. Pick up cards one at a time and set them aside until you find the wheel of fortune.
The card on top of the wheel of fortune is the best possible outcome for the spell.
The card beneath the wheel of fortune is the worst possible outcome for the spell.
Here is how you judge the omen:
A card that matches your question's element is a very good omen.
If my top and bottom cards are both Fire cards, that is great for my Fire question.
A card that opposes your question's element is a very bad omen.
Earth and air oppose each other
fire and water oppose each other
If my bottom card is Water, that means the worst possible outcome for my Fire question is very bad indeed.
A card that neither matches nor opposes your element is a decent omen.
Earth and water are good friends with each other
Earth and fire are just buddies
Air and fire are good friends with each other
Air and water are just buddies
Suppose my question is will this business deal go well? Which I have chosen to be an earth question.
I shuffle. The cards are as follows:
On top of the Wheel of Fortune (best possible outcome): Cups card
Beneath the Wheel of Fortune (worst possible outcome): Swords card
Now I can see that the watery cups card is good friends with my earthy question, and the best possible outcome is just fine - not perfect, but a good deal.
Unfortunately, the airy swords card opposes my earthy question - the worst possible outcome is very bad indeed.
Perhaps now I'd like to know how to prevent against this worst outcome - I may perform the operation over again, this time instead of the Wheel of Fortune using a card related to victory or protection (perhaps for a business deal I'd choose the Emperor or the Chariot), and choosing new meanings for my top and bottom cards. Perhaps this time the top card will be "best thing I can do to prevent a bad business deal" and the bottom card will be "worst thing I can do."
Because if you'd like a little more detail, you can start accounting for the elemental meanings and the card numbers.
Now, here is a note - if you are just asking for outcomes, it is easy to apply the "opposite element = bad outcome" rule. But if you are asking for guidance, opposing elements can begin to function more as warning signs than bad omens. Let's see this in action below:
Now I ask an airy question - what is the best way to stop this business deal going bad?
And instead of the WoF I choose to use the exact same swords card that was my bad omen the first time around.
I shuffle the deck and find that swords card.
On top of the swords card (best action to take to prevent a bad deal): Page of Pentacles
Underneath the swords card (worst thing I could do; would make the situation worse): Nine of Cups
Well heck! My most positive card is enemies with my question's element. How may this be resolved? To answer that, let's take a look at what to do with the card's position in the suit.
I guess you can use numerology if you want, but we're after something a lot more simple.
Aces may be high or low (that is, an ace card may be weaker than the 2 or stronger than the 10 -- choose for yourself)
Cards gain intensity as their numbers go up (the 6 card is twice as intense as the 3 card)
Furthermore, the court cards gain the following attributes (courts can be tricky, so feel free to remove them from your deck entirely):
Pages function as novices, learners, observers, students, and apprentices; lowest on the social ladder; outsiders looking in
Knights function as competent workers, people who get the job done, the person who goes out and does things; middling on the social ladder; involved in the situation
Queens function as leaders, middle managers, and delegators. The person to talk to in order to get the go-ahead. The person with many answers. Higher on the social ladder; managing the situation.
Kings function as bosses, executives, and rulers. The person who sets the game plan that the queens abide by. May be out of touch or even have fewer pragmatic answers than the queen. The person with the vision. Highest on the social ladder; controls the situation.
Let's mash a couple of things here together to try and understand why being a Page of Pentacles will help stop this Airy situation from going bad.
Because of the element traits of earth (discipline, jobs) and the significance of the page (novice, learner, low on the social ladder), I can determine that in this situation, the Page of Pentacles represents as behaving as a humble student of business is a great outcome for me.
Because of the element traits of water (feelings, connection, emotion) and the high intensity of the number nine card, I can determine that in this situation, the Nine of Cups represents me behaving in an intensely subjectively emotional way, perhaps to try and force a friendship with that business person.
I know that the Page of Pentacles card must reflect something positive and helpful (it is the best thing for me to do!) and that is how I derive the more helpful meaning.
I know that the Nine of Cups must be something unhelpful and perilous, which is how I derive the less helpful meaning.
How do I resolve the Page of Pentacles as being the opposite element of my airy question?
Here, I determine that my ideas of what it takes to succeed are backwards. The way I am seeing this situation is upside-down - by behaving as if I am so friendly to this business person, I would ruin the deal. What they want to see is that I am ready to learn the ropes and be easy to work with.
Well, anyway. I could go on and on as there are many nuances to this method.
If you've made it all the way to the end, now you can have an extra tip! If assigning an element to your own question is too difficult at this time, make the oracle even more simple. Fire is the best possible outcome, air is a good outcome, water is a fine outcome, and earth is the worst outcome.
Interpret only one card - either on top of, or beneath the Wheel of Fortune (as this variation is so simple that drawing 2 cards often doesn't make sense).
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cryoculus · 2 years ago
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— guard dog 11 ⟢
pairing: thoma x assassin!reader
summary: setting foot in your home village after years of running away is as daunting as it sounds. good thing you have a trusty chief retainer by your side.
word count: 4.8k words
notable characters: thoma
tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut
warnings: intimacy issues, allusions to past trauma
header art cr: kanishiima on twt
masterlist
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The first thing your mind registered was the sound of an engine whirring.
You wrenched your eyes open, squinting at the harsh sunlight as you wrangled in your disoriented mind. But when you realized your head was resting against a warm, firm surface that suspiciously felt like someone’s shoulder, you jolted away—bumping your head on the low ceiling in the process.
“Ow…”
“Good morning to you, too.”
A frown etched itself on your face when you found Thoma seated behind the wheel—green eyes glued straight ahead. When you followed his line of sight, an endless ocean was spread out before the two of you, stretching farther than the eye could see. It’s only then that you realized you were on a waverider.
“How long was I out?” you sighed, scooting away from him as far as you could. Gods. You fell asleep on his shoulder?
“About thirty minutes,” Thoma responded before tinkering with the switches and buttons that controlled the boat. Even when he took his hands off the ship’s wheel, the waverider remained in motion. “Which is way too little, if you ask me.You can nap some more if you’re tired. Yashiori’s still two hours away.”
You shook your head. “I’m…good. I’m surprised you know your way around the sea.”
“I actually don’t, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“What?” You scowled. “How’d you know we’re two hours away then?”
He flashed you a questionable smile. “Gut feeling.”
You weren’t very keen with the idea of boarding a faux-sailor’s ship, but it wasn’t like you had many cards on your deck right now. Besides, the journey at sea would prove to be the much faster route. It took you three days to get to the capital on foot all those years ago, and from how dire the situation was, you didn’t exactly have that much time to squander either.
“Here.”
Shooting Thoma a bewildered look, your eyes flickered from his face to the neatly wrapped onigiri in his hand—one he was openly offering to you. 
“When did you even sneak the time to make that?” you asked. “Everyone was either sick or injured when Sayu and I got back to the estate.”
“These are yesterday’s leftovers,” Thoma explained, depositing the rice ball on your lap before procuring another from a rucksack at his side. “It’s a good thing we stocked up the pantry recently. We have enough rations to keep everyone well-fed for a few days.”
“A few days?” you echoed. 
The chief retainer let out a brisk sigh as he munched on his onigiri. “Lord Ayato likes to plan for the worst in any given scenario. He expected that finding a cure won’t be as easy as we hoped. That’s why he’s locking everyone in even if it’ll take us a week to come back.”
Well… That was true. You’d commented on Ayato’s undisputed foresight yourself. Though you’ve only met the person beyond his mask of distrust last night, everything he’d done so far ultimately changed the way you saw him entirely. Ayato was the one who sought you out in Chinju Forest, the one who convinced Sayu to track down Itsuki, and the one who ruthlessly negotiated your fate with Kujou Sara herself. He managed all those things on top of the threat of a biological hazard that’s infesting the estate right this second. 
Ayato was someone tactical enough to have planned this far, and someone who shared his sister’s empathy towards others. It’s no wonder he was hailed as the Yashiro Commissioner. 
When you finally finished your rice ball, Thoma was back to manually steering the waverider. For someone you suspected was also afflicted by the Tatarigami, he was awfully relaxed.
“Are you okay?” you wondered.
Thoma hummed curiously, eyes darting your way. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Now don’t act all cool with me. You caught the Tatarigami too, didn’t you?”
“I was informed that those infected can survive for years after transmission,” he said. “Even if I was afflicted with the curse, I don’t think there’s any cause for panic.”
You frowned. “Did Ayato tell you?” 
“He told all of us,” Thoma replied. “Why else would our people be so willing to lock themselves in for an indefinite amount of time?”
“But…” You bit your lip, staring out at the ocean. “I’m not sure if what I said to him was true.”
 He cocked his head. “Why not?”
“I’m not a doctor , Thoma. I’m just…someone who observed from the sidelines,” you murmured. “I don’t want dozens of lives to be weighted against a claim I’m not a hundred percent sure about.”
You remembered how Ayato stared at you last night when you told him about the curse. The near-frantic look in his eyes when he considered the possibility of his family being exposed to such a thing. Yet he took your words at face value and trusted them without a shred of doubt.
You didn’t want that trust to amount to nothing in the end… 
“Your word has more weight than anyone else’s though.”
When you glanced back at Thoma, the beginnings of a smile played on his lips. You asked, “What if I was lying? What if I’m still in cahoots with the Tenryou Commission and this was our plan all along?” 
Your heart ached with each word, already against the mere idea of betraying the man before you again. Thoma’s hair seemed more golden in the daylight—eyes never leaving the boundless sea before him. 
And when those green irises riveted back to you, your breath nearly hitched in your throat.
“No one who breaks down on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night because they’re torn up about their own loyalties can hold out for that long,” he chuckled. “Not even you, the so-called best mercenary in the Inazuman underground.”
Had he told you those words a few weeks prior, your first instinct would have been to spit out a biting retort of your own. How dare he assume things about your life so casually? 
But… You were tired. Tired of having to put on a brave face. Tired of having to choke on your own pride. 
Tired of running away from the good things people willingly gave to you.
Thoma didn’t even act surprised when you inched back closer to his side. You leaned your head against his shoulder—letting the tension in your body dissipate at the close proximity. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.
“Wake me up before we arrive?” 
His laughter reverberated low in his chest—a sound you found almost comforting amidst the screech of the waverider’s engine. You could feel him shift slightly beside you, and when you felt his lips against your hair, you were too exhausted to tell him off.
“I will.”
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Yashiori Island was exactly as you remembered it.
The moment you and Thoma got off the waverider, the familiar gales of an ever-present storm greeted you at the shore. Orobashi’s skeleton protruded menacingly over the cliff he’d expired on and after all this time, the sight still didn’t fail to send a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help but feel like those hollow eyes were watching you from afar as Thoma unloaded the supplies he’d stuffed into the trunk. 
“You’re going to catch a cold out there.”
When you stared at him again, you’re surprised to see the chief retainer with a large bag strapped behind both his shoulders—holding an umbrella over both of your heads. “What are you—”
“Oh! Your sword’s here by the way.” 
Thoma tilted his hip a little, and you saw that your unsheathed katana was dangling freely at his side. One wrong move and he might stab himself in the foot. You groaned as you took it from him, remembering that Ayato tossed the scabbard carelessly during last night’s altercation in Chinju Forest. 
“Do I want to know why you look like a mother that’s way too ready for her son’s school trip?” 
The blond hollered aloud, one eye dropping into a wink. “I’m the Kamisato housekeeper, remember?”
Unbelievable. 
This was, by no means, your first time back on the island since you’d left it. Your freelance work often brought you from one strange place to another, and Yashiori wasn’t always out of the equation. But even if potential employers offered you double the amount the Tenryou Commission had promised for Ayaka’s murder, you’d never accept a job that required you to set foot in Higi Village.
Taking care of some rebels from Sangonomiya? Sure. Sabotaging operations at Jakotsu Mine? That’s right up your alley. But despite your entire repertoire, going back to your hometown was something completely unnegotiable for you.
Yet here you were, acting as Thoma’s pseudo-bodyguard because the bastard was carrying way too much stuff to help fight off the ronin and treasure hoarders crawling all over the island.
“It still doesn’t make sense to me how you managed to prepare for this so quickly,” you panted, running your fingers through your rain soaked hair before you shot him a disgruntled look. “Housekeeper or not, no sane person brings that much to a scavenger hunt.”
“You’ll be grateful for my foresight in due time, Miss Kira,” he chuckled from under the safety of his umbrella as he followed you up the hill. “Dying of hunger sounds much more troublesome than dying of blood loss.”
“When I get my hands on the cure, you’re the last one who’ll be given a dose.”
“Now you’re just being mean!”
The rest of the trek uphill was just as troublesome as it sounded. You eventually stopped seeking shelter from the rain underneath Thoma’s umbrella—trading the momentary solace for keeping your eyes peeled for any assholes who wanted to ambush you out of nowhere.
Although, when the two of you ran into a kairagi, you knew you were at a bit of a disadvantage this time. He loomed over you menacingly—tongues of fire imbuing his sword even under the curtain of rain. You grit your teeth, wondering if you could best him if you were agile enough. The kairagi was of a much larger stature than yourself. Surely someone built like that wasn’t fast enough to—
He lunged at you like a hurtling meteor before you could even finish the thought.
You couldn’t move. It’s like your feet were rooted to the spot even in the face of imminent death. The samurai’s fiery katana blazed as he raised it above his head, and you wondered if this was truly the end of the road for you.
“Hey! Snap out of it!” 
You’d only realized your eyes were screwed shut when you opened them again—only to see Thoma intercepting the kairagi’s sword with his own polearm. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel the cold rain beating against your skin anymore. All that’s left was the warmth of the translucent shield emanating from the man that just saved your life.
Wait a minute. How’d he cast a damn shield?
Thoma cried out as he shoved the samurai away—the shield, which you now realized was made of pure Pyro energy, pulsated with his every move. He didn’t dare wait for your opponent to recover. Thoma grabbed your wrist before sprinting away, and you noticed he’d left his umbrella behind in haste, too.
“I was just kidding when I told you to guard me with your life,” he sighed, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
Behind him, you watched as the protective barrier flickered around his person before seemingly evaporating in the rain. But even though the Pyro shield had gone, you could still feel the warmth of his fingertips on your wet skin.
It felt…nice.
You didn’t know how long you’ve been running, but by the time yours and Thoma’s sprints came to a halt, you could see the serpent’s head even more clearly. 
Orobashi’s skull was startlingly close now—so close that you could see the inside of its mouth. Patches of undergrowth and moss have begun to sprout in the cavern, and you pondered about the years you’ve been gone for them to propagate this wildly. 
“Huh. So a single Orobashi tooth is bigger than an entire person.”
Thoma marveled at the scenery with caution still—his grip on his spear unwavering even if he’d long let go of your wrist. To your disappointment, he promptly met your gaze when he noticed you staring. 
“You lived here for at least…what, fifteen years?” he estimated. “How’d you manage? Just standing here is giving me the creeps.”
You laughed, eyes darting to your feet as you shuffled awkwardly under the rain. “I left, didn’t I?”
“Right. And you’re back to the place where it all began.” 
Thoma sighed wistfully, and you jumped a little when you felt him reach for your hand. You didn���t protest against the gesture, but you couldn’t help the wealth of endearment that filled you once he squeezed it softly, reassuringly. In the distance, you could see the abandoned archon statue—one of Higi Village’s only landmarks. You thought you’d be filled with dread with each step closer you made but… 
The feel of Thoma’s fingers interlaced with yours managed to quell your fears. Even just a little.
“Come on,” he said, tugging you along with that bright, bright smile. “We’ve got some scavenging to do.”
You managed a laugh, even if the rain was dampening your mood. Even as you held a bloodstained sword in the hand that wasn’t holding his. 
For the first time in years, the sun was shining on Yashiori Island.
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After chasing all the ronin and kairagi out of the village together, you and Thoma practically stumbled into Doctor Naoko’s old house when you finally made it. But even if your first thought was to crawl to the spare room and pass out for the rest of the day, nostalgia struck you like an impending tidal wave. 
The air inside was stale—like time stood completely still. If you looked hard enough, you could still see the bloodstains you were sure you’d scrubbed away on the floorboards before you left. Dust covered every bit of furniture that was yet to be sacked by trespassers, looking so old and worn, you feared one wrong step would make them all crumble before your eyes.
Thoma unlatched his bag of supplies, laying it on the floor as the two of you dripped rain water all over. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thanks,” you responded gruffly, laying your katana on the dinner table as you looked around your semi-childhood home. Despite the obvious signs of being ransacked over the years—the doctor’s first-aid kit was gone, so were the medical supplies he’d stockpiled in the back—it still looked relatively liveable. 
But even if you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand (A.K.A. finding any clues pertaining to a cure), you couldn’t help it. Every step you took, every corner you checked—each turn made your mind flash back to the brief time you’d spent living here. Two months wasn’t a lot, but living with Doctor Naoko had been one of the few moments in your life that you actually treasured.
And now he’s gone. Because he’d been too busy using his experimental cure on you, when he should’ve been curing himself. No one was going to mourn the death of an orphan from Yashiori. But Doctor Naoko obviously didn’t harbor the same sentiments.
You’re only roused from your bitter reminiscing when you felt something warm being draped across your shoulders.
“I found some towels in the room over there,” Thoma informed you as he took off his headband and dried his hair. “Who knows how long they’ve been gathering dust, but… It’s better than getting sick from the cold.”
You chuckled, moving to pat down your soaked clothes regardless. “You know you can get sick from dust exposure too, right?”
“I’m already cursed with the Tatarigami. What’s the worst that could happen?”
The rest of your day went a little more smoothly after that. It just so happened that Thoma discovered the water was still running through the pipes, and you figured it was because of the rain that the nearby reservoir would be filled to the brim. As he prepared lunch by the fireplace, you decided to take a quick shower. 
Of course, the bath was overrun by muck and insects that have accumulated over the years. You wrinkled your nose the entire time as you attempted to splash water all over the dirty surfaces. You also weren’t afforded the leisure of the Kamisato estate’s fragrant shampoos and herbal soap either so the best you could do was to wash off the grime on your body without much scrubbing. But this wasn’t the worst of living conditions you’ve been forced to deal with, so you managed in the end. 
However, another pressing issue presented itself in the fact that your clothes were yet to dry. This homecoming trip had come up last-minute so you hadn’t exactly gotten to pack a few extras with you. Going naked was out of your options, too. You’d rather get struck by lightning first before you pranced around Thoma like that.
In that regard though, it only meant you’d underestimated the chief retainer’s ability to plan ahead yet again. 
Your mouth hung agape when you found Thoma tending to a pot of boiling water at the fireplace. His uniform was splayed neatly across a nearby rack together with his Vision, and you observed that he’d changed into the same black kimono he often wears to bed. When he noticed you emerging from the bath, the chief retainer grinned.
“You’re looking a bit uncomfortable, aren’t you, Miss Kira?” he spoke patronizingly. 
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, you simply put your hand out. “Alright, Mister Plans-a-Lot, give me my clothes.”
“Your clothes?” 
For a moment, you’re convinced that the puzzled look on his face was nothing but an act. But as the awkward air spread around you thicker, you began to consider that maybe Thoma wasn’t an all-knowing, all-planning overlord like Ayato after all. 
“God, how did I do laundry in this place again?” you grumbled, plopping yourself on one of the intact wooden chairs before dragging it closer to the fire.
Thoma let out a laugh that only served to annoy you. “Okay, I didn’t pack any of your clothes because that would mean I’d have to take stuff out of your locker. Though you left us a few days ago, I’m still against invasion of privacy.”
“Aren’t you already invading my privacy whenever you leave those trinkets inside, though?” you pointed out. 
“ …Anyways, so I have a spare kimono in the bag.”
A few minutes of back-and-forth negotiation later, Thoma managed to convince you to change into his clothes in the spare room. 
Your face was practically burning the entire time as you stripped yourself off your wet clothes. The idea of wearing someone else’s kimono mortified you. If this was a normal thing to do for the people in Narukami, you didn’t want any part of it after this entire ordeal.
But as you pushed your arms through the large sleeves of Thoma’s nightwear, the smooth glide of fabric against your skin was surprisingly pleasant. As expected, his clothes smelled exactly like him, and you didn’t know what to think of it when you caught yourself lifting one of the lapels to your nose for a quick whiff. 
Musk and aralia trees. You were sure you couldn’t forget his scent even if you wanted to.
Once you’d managed to put on his clothes, you stretched your arms somewhat awkwardly as the sleeves billowed lower than what you’re used to. You and Thoma weren’t exactly far apart in the height department, but he was still built bigger than you. It would make sense for his clothes to be a bit loose. When you tried walking around, the hem even dragged around the floorboards.
Well. Beggars can’t be choosers. 
“So do you have any clue what we’re looking for exactly?”
The two of you were currently helping yourselves to the seagrass stew that Thoma brewed as you both settled in. Your clothes dried by the rack next to his. For a while, you contemplated an answer to his query as you took small sips of broth.
“Doctor Naoko used to keep a journal,” you said. “I haven’t seen what’s inside it, but… I’m sure he wrote down his notes there. He doesn’t use anything else to record his research findings.” 
“Research findings?” Thoma repeated, and you couldn’t quite take him seriously when he had his hair down like that. The sight almost flustered you… He looked so different without that stupid headband. “So the cure was only in its trial stages?”
You shook your head. “Well, yes. But it worked. He put me on that medication for at least a month, and I continued taking it until I left and made it to the capital. I was already cured before I realized it.”
He nodded in understanding, dipping his spoon in and out of his bowl like he didn’t quite have the appetite for his own dish. “I see. Do you remember what it looks like at least?”
“The medicine he gave was a bit pinkish. Kind of tasted like salt water,” you described.
“Hmm… Pink and tastes like salt water. Now what ingredients do you throw in together to concoct a miracle potion like that?” Thoma sighed. “Do you remember where he put that journal in question?”
“I…”
Well, the short answer was no. You didn’t. 
Even after you’ve given the doctor a proper burial, you couldn’t find the journal no matter how hard you looked. You left no cabinet unchecked, no piece of furniture unturned. In the end, you accepted that whatever he’d written in that notebook would remain a mystery until you caught up to him in the afterlife. That the only reminder of your time together would be the sword you’d used to slaughter countless innocents.
Huh. What would he think about the person you’d become now, you wondered… 
“You know, for someone who’s been alone all this time, you sure cry a lot, Miss Kira.”
You blinked in surprise when Thoma reached out to wipe the tears off your face. His gentle hands were devoid of his gloves—calloused from all those years of manual labor. He cast you a kind smile, thumb tracing circles across the high of your cheekbone. The chief retainer was so close, you could make out flecks of gold swimming in the green of his eyes. 
“How about we head to bed? It’s been a long day,” he murmured, still not pulling away.
Your brows knitted. “But isn't it like…just an hour past noon or something?”
“You can tell?” Thoma laughed softly, and you immediately felt something shift in the air between you—a tint of emotions that hadn’t been there before. “If it’s raining all day like this in Narukami Island, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was evening all the time.”
“You get used to it, I guess,” you replied, sniffling a little. “Are you tired?”
“Downright exhausted.”
With each word exchanged, you noticed that your faces have been drawing closer and closer together. Your heart was stuttering uncontrollably in your chest—unable to make sense of what was happening. The rain outside was loud enough to drown out the sound of your own pulse racing, but you couldn’t really do anything about how Thoma’s warm breath fanned your face. For some, archons damned reason, you’re awfully compelled to lean in and just close the distance for good.
You’ve…felt this way before. During the night of the fireworks show. When you saw how his lush, green eyes darted to your lips like he wanted to sample a taste.
The hand on your face moved to cup your jaw, tilting your chin up so that you couldn’t escape the endless emerald of his eyes. Your body felt hot all of a sudden—hitting a fever pitch you hadn’t even known existed. Thoma’s hair splayed around him like a golden halo, and you watched how the crackling fire behind him seemed to make the tresses glow. 
You’re no idiot. You knew what he wanted. 
But…you’re not used to being looked at with so much hunger, so much desire in someone else’s eyes. It made you feel small. Vulnerable. Nearly claustrophobic. And even if you wanted nothing but to finally leap over the edge of…whatever it was that’s been brewing between the two of you—
You couldn’t. 
“I’m sorry.”
Thoma’s face didn’t betray any sort of emotion when you pulled away—putting down your bowl of cold stew as you got back to your feet. Your chest burned, throat closing up with another threat of tears. But you refused to fall apart in front of him again. 
“S-Sleeping by the fireplace is more comfortable,” you stammered, forcing your voice not to break as you rushed to the spare room. “Just tell me if you need anything, okay? We can look for clues once you’re well-rested.” 
You didn’t even wait for his answer before shutting the door—letting your back slide against the rotting wood. It took a lot of willpower not to curl yourself into a ball, but in return, your entire body trembled with agitation. 
…You just rejected his advances.   
What if he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?
What if he thought you were a freak for freezing up like that? Most of all… 
How could Thoma want someone like you?
.
.
.
But then, you hear him calling your name—your real name—from the other side.
You hated how the sound of his voice was enough to melt away your fears. How easily you got up and opened the door for him even if your face was a total wreck. Thoma gazed at you with that same, unyielding concern characteristic of a retainer of the Kamisato clan, and your heart could no longer take it.
“I’m sorry for coming onto you like that,” he said, loudly, clearly—leaving no room for hesitation. “I shouldn’t have done that. And I know you probably won’t forgive me for it, but…”
No. Why was he asking for your forgiveness? You’re the one who panicked and ran away. You’re the fucking freak who couldn’t stomach the idea of being intimate with someone else—
“If we’re going to bed early, can you sleep where I can watch you?”
You stared at him with parted lips, like you didn’t quite know how to respond. Instead, you wiped your tears with the sleeves of his kimono, finding momentary comfort in the scent of him on the fabric.
“Why?” you asked, voice raspy. 
Thoma’s eyes softened, and you didn’t miss how his arms moved at his sides for a moment before he forced them back in place. It’s as if he wanted to reach out and embrace you, but restrained himself for the sake of your comfort. 
“The nightmares,” he replied. “I don’t want you to deal with them alone when I’m right here.”
You wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous. You’ve handled all the bad dreams on your own swimmingly. But something about the genuine concern lining his gaze, and the fact that the dynamic of your relationship had definitely shifted just now made you reconsider.
The next thing you knew, you’re pulling Thoma outside by the wrist. 
There wasn’t anywhere comfortable to sleep on anymore. The beddings you’d left behind had long been stolen by some run-of-the-mill thief, probably. But that didn’t deter you as much as you thought it would.
Slowly, you sat beside one of the aged wooden walls, leaning against the vertical surface as Thoma followed suit. He watched every move you made, never initiating any of his own. And when you let yourself curl around his chest, he didn’t dare move an inch.
The fire crackled in the hearth far away, but the warmth of Thoma’s body was more than enough to salvage you from Yashiori’s unforgiving climate. You breathed in deep, drowning yourself in his scent until you couldn’t make sense of anything else.
“I can’t give you that. Not yet,” you murmured into his chest. “But I can give you this.”
Thoma let out a long sigh, and you felt his heart rate pick up the pace. You wondered what he looked like right now. Did he turn red like normal people do when they’re embarrassed? You were curious, but you didn’t have the heart to pull away from the lull of his warmth. 
“Anything you’re willing to spare,” he murmured so quietly, you barely heard him, “is more than enough for me.”
Yashiori was a place devoid of pretense. No titles to uphold, no responsibilities to consider. You wished you could stay here forever—caged in the heat of his strong embrace, falling asleep to the rhythm of the rain. 
Maybe the rest of the world could wait. Just a bit longer…
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"Creative" Miniseries
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Warnings and Information: Because some of these get suggestive, we're gonna say Minors DNI.
I went down a list of creative hobbies at random, so some of these may not necessarily "fit" our Bad Batch and Wolfpack boys. This is more a creative writing exercise than a serious list of headcanons.
If I miss someone from a certain unit, or you want to see so-and-so with a different creative hobby than the one I went with at random, let me know and I can do another part just for them. It doesn't have to be in the form of a request, but you're welcome to make one (it'll be easier to keep track of that way/guarantee I'll see it)!
Word count: 2,010
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The Bad Batch 
Crosshair 
His cyare writes him poetry, short stories, and fake scripts. Wordsmithy about purple mountains crowned in silver snow. His retellings of how he wiped out fifteen battle droids in one shot becomes fit for the silver screen when you present him with the scene. He's thought about carefully etching your poetry about him into the stock of his gun. But he couldn't decide on just one line; how could he pick just one when they were all so good? He's thought about the filthy praise you've written for him on strips of filmsi when he misses you most. He's memorized every word before he discreetly drops the strip into a puddle on the landing pad, or some water cupped in the palm of his hand, to let the evidence dissolve and melt away. He knows you keep your records if you ever wanted to do a reading while you ravish him; just like you promise on paper while maybe being too timid to tell him out loud. No two lines have ever been quite the same. It never fails to make him feel so loved when every word you write is chosen with utmost care. Even the parts about himself he despises he's found himself slowly coming to love. You've been wonderful for his self-image, in many ways. And you constantly surprise him. He's never imagined you could be so crass when you write how much you want to ruin him in bed. Him. Hunter asked if Crosshair had gotten some bad news because he could hear the sniper's heart racing wildly, once. "No… everything's fine." Crosshair insisted in a way that didn't quite convince Hunter, but he thankfully let it go.
Wrecker
His cyare spoils him with home cooking. Absolutely spoils him. Sweets and breads and stews. Meat so mouthwatering and tender it falls off the bone. And the best part is you make enough so he can eat until he's had his fill. He's full for one rare moment in his life. No bland ration bars. No under-seasoned food from the mess. You always make it just how he likes it, and some extras that he takes home with him for his brothers, made how they like it, too. He's not sure he's ever seen a single recipe card. He's pretty sure you have a flawless memory. He offhandedly mentioned it had been a while since he'd had something once, and the next day, you whipped up exactly what he'd been craving. Right down to the spices and the drinks you paired with the meal the first time. So when he jokes that the two of you could really give him a case of deja vu by engaging in a certain "after-activity" once you've had some time to digest, he finds that's exactly what you had in mind. Mornings after he spends the night, he's made breakfast in bed. You might find yourself engaged if you do that enough times! He might not even have a ring or any sort of commemorative accessory ready for the moment, but he's so swept up in feeling so loved by you that he wants to feel like that forever. What better way than to ask to be yours?
Hunter
His cyare has the greenest of green thumbs he's ever seen in this galaxy. You can tell what the soil needs from feeling it between your fingers. You can deduce what ails your plants with startling accuracy before ever consulting the Holonet. Your garden thrives with life in such a small space; unlike anything he's ever seen. Herb and flower and produce. You have an idea for a hydroponic garden that you've been flirting with the idea of; something you can propagate here that you could let him keep on Kamino. A little secret piece of greenery to break up all that sterility of white and silver. He loves to spend time with his hands in the dirt with you, watching you prune and weed with precision. He may not understand how you keep all the seasons of planting and blooming and harvesting straight in your head, but he appreciates your brilliance and your knack for filling your garden with so much growing in tandem. You invited him once to do a little late night planting in the new flower beds, but the two of you ended up fooling around so much that the beautiful seedlings from the nursery remained untouched until sunrise. (It took Hunter three days to get all the dirt from his hair.) Eventually he can tell what section of your garden you spent the most amount of time in by the way you smell at the end of the day. "You've been in the herbs again. Maker, I love it when you smell like this…" You laugh softly, feeling your skin tingle pleasantly wherever his hands begin to roam. "Good. Because tomorrow I plan to fertilize the new patch I made, and we both know you're not a fan of the fertilizer. But I need to get things ready for you to choose your own little things you want to learn to grow."
Tech
His cyare shares an interest in puzzles and programming. Logic puzzles, jigsaw, sudoku, crossword, word searches, mazes, memory and recall, you name it. Anything that tests your reasoning and intelligence. You've slipped so many little ciphers into your messages together, and sent him many tasteful images. He needs to crack three layers of unique encryption to get to it. Were the files in his datapad not so important in order to perform his part in the Grand Army of the Republic, you'd gladly give into the idea of sending him a virus that would do something harmless, or cause a minor nuisance like changing his primary language from Basic to Shyriiwook to Huttese to Dathomiri to Rodian all at random. "It would be fascinating, not knowing what language you're going to get the next time you pick up your datapad," you tell him, trying to explain why you hesitate to entertain this fantasy, "but what if you needed to show something to Commander Cody and he doesn't speak Kel Dor?" You have a point, he concedes, but he files this odd fantasy away for another time. Maybe when the war is over. Letting his exceptional mind go to waste would be an utter shame. Letting an opportunity to be involved with you in this mutual hobby going to waste would be criminal.
Wolfpack
Commander Wolffe
His cyare's poor hands are full of splinters all hours of the day. "I wish you'd wear gloves, or something…" he grumbles worriedly as he assists you in working a particularly nasty splinter free. It's in there deep… and he's this close to taking you to one of the medics on board to make sure it's out before infection sets in. "But it's just not the same without the feel of the wood in my hands if I wore gloves." you tell him. You don't mean it to be dismissive of his feelings. You know he's only thinking of your best interests and your safety in mind. He always is. The idea of woodworking, something that could be very demanding on your hands, something that could too-easily go wrong if you didn't mind the blade of your whittling knife didn't scare Wolffe, but it didn't comfort him either. "I see enough hurt to last a lifetime when I accompany General Plo Koon on relief efforts. The thought of you… Please promise me you'll be careful." You nod softly. Promising that you're doing your best. You're always doing your best. "I'll be careful. I have to be if I want this to look good." He's never asked his cyare what they make. Not because he doesn't care, but because he's so preoccupied that he doesn't get to see anything while it's still being worked on; he's only seen the finished results. All of them are so beautiful. But for once, since he knows this one is still in progress, he wants to know what you've spent the better part of the month working on. What you're so determined not to screw up. "It's you. And your men. As a whole pack of loth-wolves." you tell him. "I just finished Comet today. Would you like to see?" 
Comet
Mapmaking for fun was his cyare's hobby. Maps and diagrams of anything, really. Phony star charts filled with made-up constellations that were named after him and his brothers and the General. What an underground wolf den would look like if it was large enough to host the entire Wolfpack. You even made maps of some of his dreams. Sprawling cities where people could have enough space to dance in the street. You tried making a diagram of the time Comet had assisted General Windu from the precarious wreckage of a Venator-class ship that had been reportedly sabotaged, but it was ultimately abandoned. Something about that incident was spoken of so quietly by the Clones. "General Plo says the one responsible was just a kid…?" The diagram was trashed and instead you worked on something related to the Aleena people. 
Boost
His cyare promises him when they first get together that the gifts of soap are not a jab at his hygiene, or rather, lack of it since he only bathes with regularity when he's on leave. "I-I just make so much soap… And I'm always trying new things. Fragrances, I mean! If you don't like any of them, you can give them to your brothers or throw them away and I swear I won't be mad." you tell him when you give him a mesh sachet of travel-sized soap bars when he asks what you've been up to since your last date together, in the beginning of your relationship. You had picked up soap making as a hobby in the three months you've been apart. His brothers certainly think they all smell nice, and they feel cleaner when they can smell something they haven't gone nose-blind to after nothing but regulation cleaners and soaps for years on Kamino. "Hey, Boost! Tell your sweetheart I really liked the thing they called lavender! I love the way that stuff smells. Do you think you could get some more of it for me?" He feels a little bad that when he goes to visit, he comes with what's for all intents and purposes a list of soap orders. "They're offering to pay if it means they don't have to use the communal body wash dispensers." 
Sinker
Leatherwork became his cyare's hobby of choice after Sinker had an opportunity to finally take care of a few things he hadn't had the time for in a while. Cleaning out his footlocker, being at the top of his list. You'd offered to help, curious to see what you'd find, partly, but mostly just glad to spend a little time with him. "Huh. Don't remember this… Why'd I keep a roll of plain leather? Oh: you know what, this must have been from that one planet back in the-" he stops himself, laughing. "Eh, the sector's not important. It was a thank you gift from the locals of the planet after we delivered relief supplies to them once we took care of a Separatist blockade. The General said it would have been impolite to refuse. I don't really have a use for it, or the time to make anything with it… But if you like it," he tells you, seeing the way you smooth your hands over the rich leather again and again, "I'm sure you'll find a better use than just sitting in my footlocker for it." He never thought you would have taken the suggestion to heart, but he's glad to see you've found something you enjoy and can pass the time with. When you present him with a small leather bag embossed with the image of the Wolfpack, he asks if you wouldn't mind making the same for his brothers out of their rolls. You'd be happy to.
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[Masterlist] [501st Edition] [212th Edition]
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highertides · 4 days ago
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(   mackenyu  .  cis male  .  he/him  )   —   blasting  crest of the wave  by  foals  down  main  street  we’ve  spotted  RUI  AQUINO  sporting  their  beaded bracelet.  the  seventy-four (appears twenty-seven)  year  old  MERMAN  who’s  been  in  town  for  six years  often  can  be  seen  reading on his sailing boat, cheating at cards, hosting a really good party,  or  working  as  a  MUSIC TEACHER  at  HELEN  ALDERSLEY  SCHOOL .  people  say  they  display  adaptable  and  dishonest  traits,  but  we  rather  trust  their  vibes:  standing in chest-high cold water, the sound of hard soled shoes on stone, paperwork turned in ahead of time, a falcon spotting prey, a lighthouse’s guiding beam in a storm.  also,  we’ve  heard  they  love  TO LEARN !   aren’t  they  fascinating ?
background
rui thinks he was born in 1950, but it was actually at the tail end of december 1949 that he first opened his eyes in the cold water of the northern sea of japan. it was just him and his mum; the temperatures were so frigid that she left him underwater instead of bringing him up to the surface.
he'll never know what happened, but he does know that, in summer, he's found by a group of mermen on their whale sightseeing trip northwards. his mother is nowhere in sight, and they don't find any traces of her even when they look. rui honestly doesn't care to find out whether she died or abandoned him.
he's got a really happy childhood after that! he's treated as more of an (annoying) little brother by his found family, which leads to a whole lot of schenanigans. rui learns to read and write in small coastal villages, makes friends with dolphins and octopi and lies to strangers about where his mum is when they ask. the guys who found him are the equivalent of college boys; it's all in good fun.
when he's 18, he decides to go on a merman backpacking trip and swims south. and then, off the coast of melbourne... he meets kiki (@halfmyth) and falls in love.
personality
okay, let's be honest here. what do we expect from a guy who was essentially raised by an underwater frat...? rui is sociable, charming, confident, decisive and demanding. he can be a bit difficult to truly get close to - he keeps his cards close to his chest and is quick to deflect attention, which has worked out decently well in his prior experience. he's the kind of man you can spend hours talking to only to later realise he hasn't told you much about himself. part of which is because he just likes getting to know people! he's curious and likes learning how things work, figuring out what makes someone tick. as a teacher, he can be strict sometimes - but he's easygoing enough not to put his foot down all too often. mostly, he just wants to enjoy life - and that shows in how much he enjoys drinking and making decisions he's not thinking long enough about. but generally he comes across as a pretty calm and rational guy!
bits & pieces
he's been with kiki for about 50 years and married to him since 2004. they lived in portum for a brief stint in the 80s but dipped to travel some more after a while.
rui's teaching because he genuinely enjoys the work and because he doesn't need to worry about money, but it's not a career path he'll stick to forever. before this, he was working in finance!
likes to party and host dinner. the aquinos have get-togethers at their place pretty frequently.
he's got a bunch of younger niblings now that his (adoptive) brothers are having babies. don't tell them that he once put his baby nephew in the fishtank while babysitting. (no babies were harmed! can't say the same about the fish though.)
night owl. when he's able, he'll sleep right through the morning until lunch.
the beads on his bracelet are all handmade by various family members, mostly out of sea glass, driftwood and other such treasures. it's really important to him.
more tba!
plotting
i love love love to brainstorm and am open to all sorts of ideas! wanted plots will be added once he and i have properly moved into portum and unpacked all our boxes : )
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merakiui · 2 years ago
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Hello, first I have real deep respect of your grasp over the characters, having not been active on anime for years I got to know twisted wonderland through your work.
So I was just wondering if you can possibly potray the relationship of Riddle and a reader who's queen of hearts and took a notice of him because of his diligence, overtime Riddle he turns yandere over her and she found it a good relationship dynamic and decided to try work it out, she ends up getting ohbsessed herself, she just don't let it show much even if privately due to her royal education and wanting some kind of grasp over her partner by being the one who seems to love less but still do more (she's a super rational yandere and would only truly snap if Riddle leaves her), she lets him get away with a lot as her ways of spoiling him but reprimand him privately when she feels he's on verge of going too far with the influence his yandtere nature has over his actions.
I quote for reader : When you're staring at the abyss, the abyss is staring back at you. Don't battle the devil within you, play with them as if it's your mischievous twin, that's how you gain absolute control over it _By being three beings, the devil, the angel and the judge.
Oh, your concept gave me an idea of Riddle who is a loyal card soldier devoted to his Queen of Hearts (you)! Riddle really admires the way your regal presence demands respect, and the way you enforce the laws of the land with such passionate strength is truly inspiring. It's been his dream to serve you ever since he was little and the two of were growing up together as childhood friends, with you being trained to take on the throne and Riddle being trained in both academics and war. Ever since he promised you that he'd defend you with his life, he's been training and studying every day in preparation for the moment when he can kneel before you and have you recognize him as a real card soldier. You've always reminded him that he's your friend before any of that, but Riddle can't possibly be satisfied with just that.
Despite your fierce nature, you are a very caring ruler. It's obvious you want the best for all of your subjects, including those who serve you. Riddle's honored to devote himself to such a steadfast, kind queen, and he's even more pleased to know that the two of you have remained friends in spite of the troubling burdens that come with the crown. Even if such a friendship must be kept secret to avoid criticisms and contempt from those within and outside of the royal court.
He's always admired you from afar, but when his mother caught onto his growing adoration she was quick to snuff it. "We are not royalty," she would snap at him, snatching and crumpling poetry he had written with you as his muse. "You are to be the Queen's sword and shield, not her lover or her companion. You are disposable. A mere card solider. So stop this frivolous daydreaming and start acting like the card solider you're meant to be."
For a while his feelings remained buried. But when it was announced that suitors from all over would come seeking your hand in marriage, each competing for your love, Riddle realizes none of them will ever cherish you in the way he does. He's never known of your true feelings, and if they aren't a reciprocation of his then he fears learning of them. But he knows he must prevent these suitors from potentially winning your heart. After all, as disposable as his mother claims he is, he wishes for a place within your heart as well. He wishes to wed you and stand at your side, as both the shield and sword and as your lover. And he'll do whatever it takes to get that. After all, he's a determined man. He won't let a few troublesome variables come between him and his queen.
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mayzi33 · 1 year ago
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TMM FANDOM
You know how each of the misfits (well, except for Olly and Izzy ig-) represent one playing cards' suits?
In case you don't know, Carter is Diamonds, Leila is Clubs, Theo is Hearts, and Ridley is Spades. Each of their books not only have these suits in their covers, but those symbols also appear at some point in each of their stories.
So- I'm not sure if everyone knows that already, but I did some researsh on those symbols, and apparently they all represent MANY different things, and most of them fit each of the misfits! So here's a RESUME of some stuff I found:
♢ Carter - Diamonds ♢
The Diamonds suit (also called: Gold, Star or Coin in different places) represents the element of earth. Back in middle ages, this symbol used to represent the Clergy. So, it is often associated with wealth, jewels and business.
Overall, Diamonds suit represents effort, realism, result of action. In someone's personality, it describes the person as sensitive, realistic, operative and enduring. However, it can have both a bright side and dark side to it.
Bright side: "The Good Parent". Protective, kind, strong, caring, that forgives and offers protection.
Dark side: "The Step Parent". Strict, possesive, seductive, destructive, that prevents any development.
♧ Leila - Clubs ♧
The Clubs suit (also called stick, wand, clover) represents the element of fire. In the midddle ages, it represented the peasants. Being associated with hard work, humility and spirit.
Clubs usually represent willpower, inspiration and enthusiasm. In terms of personality, it also has a bright and a dark side.
Bright side: "The Hero". Dynamic, self confident, brave, independent, willing to take risks.
Dark side: "The Mercenary". Brutal, hunter, insentive, power-hungry, that enjoys to influence and put people down.
♡ Theo - Hearts ♡
The Hearts suit ( Cups, amphora) represents the element of water. In the middle ages, it would represent the bourgeoisie. Being associated with art, creation and divinity.
Hearts represent emotion, love and ideas. Again, bright and dark sides.
Bright side: "The Prophet". Sentimental, wise, inspiring, the warm assistant in life.
Dark side: "The Doormat". Seducible, vain, fanatical, prossesed by the thrist of power.
♤ Ridley - Spades ♤
Last but not least, the Spades suit (gladius, axe, spear) represents the element of air. In middle ages, it represented the military. Being associated with intelligence, power and action.
Spades represent maturity, balance and strenght. Once again, bright and dark side.
Bright side: "The Intelectual". Pratical, shrewd, rational, the one that enchants.
Dark side: "The Pretentious". Cold, ruthless, cynical, the eternal adolescent.
Now, I don't know about you guys, but I think all of these fit the misfits really well. I'm not gonna elaborate so the text won't get too long, but if you have any questions on why I think so I'd be happy to discuss it!!
Neil Patrick really doesn't miss a single opportunity for detail. I bet he also did a research before adding those suits to the misfits' stories knowing that they fit them so well. Just another proof of how much of a well written and well thought story The Magic Misfits is!
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triedxtrue · 4 months ago
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Tumblr media Tumblr media
amanda fix) [THE UNJUSTIFIED]. Please welcome [ELIZA ARMSTRONG(she/her)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [22]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [THE COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [CASHIER AT THE FOOD MARKET]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.
Full Name: Eliza Cade Armstrong Nicknames: Liza, Liz, El. She's not picky nor cares much Occupation: Cashier at the food market Living situation: Commune Status-Resident Eliza Armstrong was born in Huntsville and has grown up in the town since birth. Her parents were two very anxious first time parents who had never planned on kids and yet ended up with kids. Her parents, however, were a bit naive and tended to fumble when it came to parenting. She was taken care of to the best of their ability but it still meant some things weren't done tradionally.
A lot of Eliza's learning came from the neighborhood grandma's who contributed to her giving nature and her need to help others. They taught her spelling and letters. They taught her compassion and love. All things her patents could do but not in full with them still day dreaming of forming that rock band of theirs.
She moved through school simply enough. She was social and made friends. She was active in basketball to start but then turned to wanting to learn to shoot guns and be outdoors. She got great grades when she was there but with a rocky situation in town school wasn't always her focus. When she was old enough she moved herself into the commune to start to make her own life. She fully believes in the commune and for what it stands for. Those people were her second family and that girl will be there for them if they need it.
Eliza loves to go out hunting for supplies and venturing into the woods. She's fearless in that regard and loves a good thrill seeking adventure. She also goes out of her way to help others. Meaning sometimes if people were low on ration cards she spares hers and go without a meal or two. She says it's fine. She can be found engaging with the kiddos showing them new games or helping with studies. At work she's a hard worker willing to put in her share and more.
During the earthquake situation, however, Eliza did lose her parents. The two fumbling fools managed to get themselves killed and swallowed up when the ground split. She didn't witness it but some towns folk told her about it and she wasn't sure how to feel. She loves her parents but that maternal connection was never really established. They were more like good friends trying to raise a kid. She only took a few days before going back to work and back to her usual upbeat nature.
The girl loves her trinkets too. Old music boxes, things that get brought in like old cassette players and cd players and things of another time. She collects them even if they aren't of any use and sometimes she's good for tearing things apart to rebuild them and see if they can function in a new way.
Some of Eliza's favorite things are thunderstorms, shooting her gun/hunting, reading, painting if she can find any paint to do so but she isn't opposed to using some dirt and calling it a painting, volunteering, teaching, and collecting items. While she has a lot of great qualities about her there are the lesser of course.
The lesser being that she does dive headfirst into a situation without much consideration for danger. She sees the need to help and goes. She also tends to be too kind and people can take advantage of that at times. Her level of trust is mild. She will open up but don't cross her as she does have a temper once triggered. She also is one to not always feed herself or get enough sleep. Bubbly she may be she is also chronically exhausted and sometimes that is a risk.
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sixhours · 9 months ago
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Chapter 8 - The Ghosts of Babylon
Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete
Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3
~*~
By Thanksgiving, you and Theresa have amicably parted ways. Occasionally you see her around town with the twenty-something from the dance, and you silently wish them well.
You’ve fed all the information she gave you back to FEDRA in your late-night broadcasts, although there’s been no feedback from your superiors, save for an acknowledgment of receipt. Thoughts of being extracted before winter have gone by the wayside, and when the first snow falls, you decide a few more months with regular access to food isn’t a terrible thing.
You’ve also told FEDRA about Ellie’s origins in Boston, knowing they’ll have access to her records from her time in the military school. They tell you to keep an eye on her but give you no further direction.
And so you find yourself in a holding pattern when the winter solstice arrives, crystal clear and brutally cold. You aren’t sure what to expect from the holiday season in Jackson, but somehow you’re not surprised when a giant spruce tree goes up in the middle of Main Street. There are lights strung around windows, plastic snowmen and reindeer on their lawns, and handmade wreaths on the doors. Some of your neighbors have found old decorations hiding in their basements, attics, and crawl spaces.
If your house has any hidden treasures like these you don’t know about them, because you’re too busy at the clinic. Eric tells you that’s common during the holidays. More merriment means more acts of drunken stupidity means more injuries, so you’re grateful when Maria Miller brings her infant daughter to the clinic for a routine checkup; something that isn’t a sprained ankle or hot oil burn makes for a nice change of pace.
Babies were a rarity for you in the QZ. There should have been no lack of new life with reliable birth control being so scarce, but that wasn’t the case in your experience. You tried not to think too hard about why. In Jackson, you’re treating more pregnancies than ever. Shelter, food, and long, cold winters are the magic formula for baby-making.
Six-month-old Gwen is bright-eyed and solemn; she doesn’t fuss when you lay her on the paper-covered table, prodding gently at her belly, checking her muscle tone, the soft spot at the crown of her head.
“She’s perfect,” you pronounce as Gwen demonstrates her rolling skills by trying to wriggle off the exam table, looking up at you with wide brown eyes. You pick her up, hefting the flour-sack weight of her in your arms, and resist the urge to bury your nose in the girl’s curly hair. “Getting any sleep, mom?”
Maria shakes her head and smiles wanly. “No. She’s teething.”
“Do you have help?”
“Tommy’s great. And we have family…Joel’s good with her. Ellie, too.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, handing the baby back to Maria, trying to keep your voice light. “Glad to hear it.”
“Are you coming to the tree lighting tonight?”
“Mmm, not sure,” you murmur, turning away, jotting down the baby’s measurements in her chart. “I’m kind of a Grinch.”
“Not much for Christmas, huh? We get a lot of new folks like that,” she says, wrestling the baby into a thick winter coat and slipping leather moccasins on her tiny socked feet.
“Uh-huh. Holidays in the QZ weren’t a thing. We might get an extra ration card, but there was never enough food to make a difference,” you say tightly. “Guess I’m just not used to this…abundance.”
Maria nods, swaying gently on her feet to soothe the baby. “And how are you settling in otherwise? I heard Joel was working on your house?”
You have to force yourself to keep working. “Something like that, yeah. We’re–he’s done.”
“Hmm. He’s a bit of a prickly pear, that one.”
He’s a bit of a prick, you mean .
“You don’t say,” you murmur, keeping your tone even. Gwen begins to fuss in earnest, and you silently thank her for the diversion.
Maria gives you a knowing smile. “I know you may not be feeling it, but the tree lighting starts at nine if you change your mind. I think folks are planning live music,” she says, pulling a diaper bag over her shoulder. Then, after a pause: “Anyway, there’s plenty to go around. We’re glad you’re here. ”
~*~
That evening, you step out of the clinic to the sound of music playing down the street. You consider going home, but something urges you in the opposite direction, toward the gathering of people in the square.
The atmosphere reminds you of a county fair, with booths set up around the big tree, trading homemade gifts and food. The smell of frying oil and cinnamon sugar permeates the air. You help yourself to a cup of powdered hot cocoa–a rare delicacy–and walk the perimeter, skirting the crowd.
In the early days, large groups meant more opportunities for infection to spread, and raucous noise was a magnet for trouble. Later, gatherings in the QZ meant riots, protests, and violence. You can’t help it; you imagine the hell just one infected could wreak inside the walls of this community and your chest tightens.
Children chase each other around the tree, dodging oblivious grown-ups, laughing over cups of cocoa. The band–just a couple of singers accompanied by guitars and a drum set–begins a new song, a carol you haven’t heard since you were a child.
You can’t remember the last time you saw this many people in one place at one time when there wasn’t blood on the ground.
There’s a feedback whine from the speakers next to the stage. You hear a faint scream but can’t pinpoint the source. Suddenly the lights are too bright, the music too loud, and you shrink back toward a storefront, keenly aware of the thudding of your heart in your throat.
“Hey.”
His low voice over your shoulder startles you and you jump, spilling hot chocolate on your hand.
“Fuck!”
You look over to see Joel leaning up against the building behind you. You almost backed into him in the grip of your fear.
“What are you doing here?” you snap, grimacing as you inspect your hand, the pinkened skin of a faint burn. The stinging brings you back to the moment; the vise in your chest loosens and you take a deep breath. “This doesn’t seem like your thing.”
“S’not,” he nods toward the crowd. You follow his gaze and see Maria, Tommy…and Ellie. The girl is holding Gwen, bouncing her, spinning them both in circles until the baby cackles.
“Ah, I see.”
“I told her if you’ve seen one big tree you’ve seen ‘em all, but she didn’t buy it,” he says, eyes trained on his daughter. “Too many people for my tastes.”
“On that, we agree,” you mutter.
“Yeah, you had that look about you.”
You arch an eyebrow. “You watching me, Miller?”
“Nah. I just know panic when I see it.”
You duck your head, hoping he doesn’t see the blush in your cheeks. “Sometimes I feel like a war veteran,” you mutter.
“You are,” he says, his voice dropping. “We all are.”
“Joel!” Ellie is running up to him now, Gwen still bouncing in her arms. “Can you take her? Maria’s gonna let me plug in the tree.”
“Where’s Tommy?” he frowns.
“Dunno, I gotta go,” she pushes the baby into his chest and runs off before he can protest.
“Now what am I s’posed do with you?” he murmurs, ducking his head to meet his niece’s eyes. She reaches up and grabs at his nose. He scrunches his face in an exaggerated frown and the baby squeals, pleased.
“So is your, uh, girlfriend here somewhere? Theresa?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. I mean, she might be here. But she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Ellie said she saw you two at the dance a while back–”
“Yeah, that’s…done.”
He nods, distracted by Gwen, trying to keep an eye out for Ellie at the same time. You wonder if he realizes he’s rocking lightly on his feet, swaying the same way Maria had in the clinic a few hours ago, the universal dance of a parent.
A countdown rises from the crowd.
“Five…four…three…two…”
You turn your attention back to the square as the tree is lit. A cheer goes up and the band begins to play. You wait to feel the spark of joy you remember from childhood when there was the promise of magic.
It doesn’t come.
Joel turns Gwen in his arms to face the lights, points, murmurs something you can’t hear. She appears to be more fascinated with pulling at the scruff on his chin.
“It gets easier.” He’s looking at Gwen when he says it, but you know it’s meant for you.
A longing tugs at your heart. You try to imagine a world where you don’t have to fight and lie and fuck to get by, but the lights and music and laughter mere feet away seem so distant. The thought feels impossible, paper thin, too fragile to bear.
“Baby looks good on you, Miller,” you say, clearing your throat.
He shoots you a look over the top of Gwen’s dark, curly head, then nods toward Ellie, who is standing with her aunt and uncle, looking up at the tree in awe. “Got my hands full already.”
“I believe it,” you say. “What’s her story, anyway?”
You feel him withdraw into himself. Even the baby seems to sense it, squirming in his arms. “Who? Ellie?”
“She lived in the Boston QZ?”
He shrugs. “She found me. We…got along. Not much to tell.”
Somehow you know that’s a lie. You know it by the way his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd for any sign of her, the way his shoulders naturally relax when she pops back into view. You imagine this gruff, stony man and the spitfire that he calls his daughter, making their way through the broken world, and you find yourself genuinely curious, without ulterior motive.
The baby begins to fuss, arching her back, flailing her arms, and Joel bounces her uncomfortably. He takes a cautious sniff of Gwen’s diapered bottom, makes a face.
“That’s my cue,” he says. “I don’t do diapers. See ya around, doc.”
~*~
Christmas morning dawns as you trudge home from a late shift, ready to fall into bed and sleep the day away. 
There’s a small box sitting on your porch with a note tacked to the top.
“Don’t get your hopes up. -JM”
You let out a soft breath, filling the air around you with vapor. What a cheerful sentiment. No “Merry Christmas”, no “Happy Holidays”, not even his full name, just this cryptic note and Joel’s initials scrawled in messy capital letters.
You tuck the note in your jacket pocket and open the box. Sitting inside is an orange. It’s tiny–no, it’s puny , probably grown in the community greenhouse, and probably sour as fuck–but it’s not a mealy apple. A truce, perhaps.
You scratch at the rind, lift it to your nose, and inhale the citrusy scent of a real, honest-to-god orange, surprised at the tears welling in your eyes.
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m34gs · 1 year ago
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how do you think kalim and idia would spend halloween together?
Hello! Thank you for this ask, I'm very excited to answer!!
As I've mentioned in my horror movie post for Housewardens (based on the ask from @kimium; link here), I think Idia would really like horror movies (which is based on his R Halloween costume card vignette), but I feel like Kalim would not really enjoy all things horror and creepy. He'd like the more fun, light-horror aspects of Halloween. That being said, I think they can find middle ground to enjoy the holiday together!
Decorations are a Must. Kalim may not want the spookiest decorations, but he loves parties and themes. He'd choose some of the cute-looking ghost and witch window-clings, there'd be garlands of bats, Halloween themed plates and napkins, goblets shaped to look like skulls, and, of course, jack-o-lanterns which they carved together! Their pumpkins are displayed proudly, front and center, even if Idia is a little shy about sharing his. It's ok, because Kalim encourages him that it's really good!
For costumes, they spend weeks working together to make a couple's costume. Idia models it after one of his favourite anime. Kalim may not know the show's title, but he's watched a bit of it with Idia and he had fun watching his boyfriend enjoy it so much. He also thinks a couple costume is a great way to make sure everyone can see he's dating Idia. I think Kalim would be really into doing couple activities because 1. he loves spending time with Idia, and 2. he loves showing everyone how much he loves his partner! Also, he finds it fun to make the costume; I think Kalim would enjoy crafts like that. Idia is a stickler for details, but I think Kalim gets him to also let loose a little and remember that everything doesn't have to be 100% perfect. Knowing Idia's perfectionism when it comes to cosplay and his love of anime, he's definitely the one that keeps them on-track so the costumes are actually ready for Halloween...lol :)
When it comes to snacks and candies...well, I think Jamil and Ortho have now put in place a rule that Idia and Kalim *cannot* go to the grocery store unsupervised. The pantry was full with nothing but candy, the closet had bags upon bags of chips and popcorn. Jamil found skull-shaped chocolates in the freezer. Ortho discovered Idia sleeping curled up in a ball on his bed because Idia's bed was full of bags upon bags of sour candies. And they weren't planning on sharing with anyone. Idia and Kalim bought all those snacks entirely in preparation for Halloween Date Night so they could eat them all while watching movies together. They both got the scolding of a lifetime and then received a rationed portion of treats they were allowed to have for Halloween. I guess it's 'the couple that gets in trouble together stays together'?...lol. Not an ounce of impulse control between the two of them when it comes to the snacks haha.
When they finally get to have their Halloween date, I do believe they would spend it watching cheesy, not-overly-scary, Halloween movies and munching on snacks. They're definitely cuddling on the couch (Idia made sure they chose costumes that would allow for this) and they're laughing at the movie together. They marathon so many movies that they fall asleep on the couch like that, and there's spilled popcorn on the floor and half-drunk cans of pop on the coffee table and empty chocolate wrappers scattered about like confetti...
So, yeah, that's how I think the two of them would spend Halloween! Hope you enjoyed my answer 💜 Thank you so much for the ask, and feel free to ask if you want more details or have any questions!
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virdemption · 2 years ago
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A-90 Headcanons Rewrite :3
I just wanted to rewrite all of my doors headcanons and thought I'd start with A-90 bc I am the one and only :3
He/Him - Trans Man :]
He looks like a knight. He even has a sword and shield and everything. But it's an act. He is really bad at using his arsenal and would rip off the armor in a moment's notice for attacking more up close.
His sort of "Species" of entity is that who can switch between functioning more like humans or acting more feral (re: getting on all fours, purring, etc.) Unfortunately he fucked up somewhere in childhood and doesn't have a proper balance between the two like most of his kind. He's very clumsy and it's partly why he only does 90 damage when "Humanlike".
Sometimes (Usually when very stressed or hungry, can be anything really) he will go through what he just calls "Reversion" in which he'll flip into his feral state and how he acts depends on the severity of the cause. (Sometimes he can still rationally think, sometimes you need keep an eye on him, other times he'll probably go nuts, etc.) and during this timeframe he tends to get memory issues and will be extremely wobbly when he's "normal" again. He calls being traditionally functional "Suppression".
He has retractable claws and blades yes exactly like the razor stp
His armor makes him heavier than any other entity but he's very underweight without it and almost one of the lightest. When he's not wearing his armor, he's most likely wearing some generic tank top and shorts lawl.
Hates noises. Primary reason he attacks is to JUST STOP THE NOISE. Especially the sounds of ringing phones.
Well, he's neutral-ish of a guy. His biggest reasons for aggression are his feral nature, annoyances, and fear that someone will hurt Curious Light. He does snap at people often though.
Found Curious Light roaming the rooms when she had first gotten lost and pretty much serves as her father figure. A-120 looks after CL when A-90 is busy. He eventually reunites her with her mom (GL).
Was the last of the rooms entities to show up in the hotel before their banishment, he went there in order to figure his life shit out. Obviously short lived cause El Goblino fucked everything up and banished them.
He does not like that red fucker. But do you wanna know who he does like!?!?!?!?
"Is it Seek-" yeah it's Seek <3. He loves them too much. They're both doomed by the narrative. Oops.
Struggles a lot to clear his head when stressed. Is also quite introverted and can't really communicate anger, he will start speaking in gibberish when aggravated. Guiding Light, Ambush, and A-120 are the only people who can translate it (Though A-120 can only translate if it's written down).
Collects skin conditions like pokemon cards sparkle emoji "dude can you take your lotions and stop having acne and eczema and sjs for five seconds" -GL
Hoarder but not to Ambush's degree. Collects things from intruders albeit pointless bc A-120's contracts can bring just about anything into the rooms lawl. Still nice for him. He carries a duffel bag full of goodies.
HUMAN FLESH HEART EYES EMOJI <3 <3 <3 He will tear up corpses and eat them right then and there if his head is feral enough. He usually leaves the bones for A-60 though.
Depending on his mood, his blood will turn red/yellow/green/etc. Yellow is the default but he's almost never in a good mood so he's usually the classic red. Hardly anyone has ever seen him green.
BLOOD STAINS EVERYTHING LITERALLY NOBODY CAN CLEAN IT D:
Eyes appear as just a dark void but his pupils will show up when he feels strong emotion. Shape and size depends on intensity.
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