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rafyki · 3 months

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[Valgrace fanfic]

First Valgrace fanfic!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Inspired by @neo-kid-funk's beautiful art and by our constant talking about angsty Leo finding comfort in Jason's arms :')

So, here it is!! Hope you like it~

You can also read it on AO3!

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If you asked anyone, they would probably say that Leo is loud and talkative, sometimes too silly and unserious, and most of the times a little annoying too.

Anyone else might get offended by something like this, but truth be told, Leo is fine with it - more than fine, actually, he likes it. He has worked hard to craft such an image for himself, after all, to make so that the people around him would see him like the funny friend who always makes jokes even in the most dire situations, the one friend who you could always count on to make you laugh.

It feels safe, being perceived like this. An easy way to hide.

Leo has learned during the year, that if you are annoying enough almost no one would bother to check if your smile is an honest one or not; almost no one would care enough to dig and find out what is hidden under it.

It hurt at first.

Leo has smiled and laughed and made jokes while screaming inside fake, fake, fake, how can you not see it's all fake! ; holding his tears until he was alone, letting it all out only in the safety of an empty room.

It has gotten easier, with time, so much that sometimes he isn’t sure himself how much of his smile is true or fake, how much of his personality is honest and how much is just his carefully crafted mask.

Maybe he is too good at building things, and that is why no one has been able to see the cracks all over his bubbly and annoying armor.

It’s easier, thinking like this rather than thinking that perhaps, simply no one cares enough to take a closer look.

And so he smiles, he cracks jokes, and he laughs.

And no one notices when his smile turns forced, or when the light in his eyes dims and his stare gets lost far away for a long moment.

Leo is good at pretending, and so no one notices.

He wonders now if, perhaps, he has been so busy building his armor and thinking that no one would ever bother to see past it that he himself failed to look around and check if, after all, at some point, someone arrived that has been watching more closely than he believed.

It feels weird, raising his eyes after a moment of weakness and meeting Jason's concerned ones.

“Leo, are you okay?”

The first time it happens, it takes Leo a long moment to really register Jason's words. They sound foreign, like they shouldn't be directed at him.

“Huh, yeah, man, sure I'm okay!”

Smile, fake, pretend. He could feel something cracking underneath. And, judging by the look in Jason's eyes, perhaps he heard that too.

Jason notices. Jason looks more closely. Jason cares enough to do so.

It is subtle, at first. Subtle to anyone else's eyes, at least, but it still feels huge to Leo.

It is a simple ‘are you alright?’ when Leo gets too lost in his own head, a concerned look thrown his way when no one else seems to notice that there is something wrong with him, a shoulder bumping into his in support.

It is little, but it is there.

It is there when Leo doesn’t know he needs it, in those moments he is so used to hiding alone somewhere and just dealing with whatever it is that was pulling him down - Jason is there and, honestly, Leo doesn’t know what to do with that realization.

Sometimes Leo needs to hide, sometimes he can’t bring himself to crack a joke and force a smile and keep the facade up, and the only thing he can do is hide.

“Are you okay?”, Jason asks, because of course he does, he always does.

Leo nods, wears his signature smile and waves a hand to dismiss the question.

“Sure am”, he says. “I just need to go to the engine room and check some things - Festus doesn't sound too good right now”.

That's his best excuse when they're on the Argo II; no one can say anything to that, because no one understands, and it's his work to check that everything is perfect with the ship. So they don't bother him, they let him go. Easily, always so easily dismissed.

“Do you want some company?”

Leo feels a little unstable on his feet. This isn't how it's supposed to go - Jason should wave him goodbye and let him go, and then Leo could hide in his safe space and just let the mask fall for a little while.

He really doesn't have the strength to keep it up right now, it's starting to feel a little too heavy.

“Huh, you'll get bored, man”, he replies. “I'm not really all that entertaining while I work”.

Jason shrugs.

“I'm just going to keep you company, you can do your work as you always do”.

It's hard, being on the Argo. For the obvious reasons (quest to save the world, constant monsters attacks), and also for the ‘only related to Leo' issues; it's hard not to feel alone, it's hard not to feel like you could easily be replaced, like no one would even notice you're gone if you threw yourself overboard. It feels unfair, thinking of his friends like that, but the knowledge doesn't make it easier to keep the thoughts away.

It's never been easy to feel like he really belongs. He's not sure anymore he knows what it means, and he's not sure if he'll ever find out.

Jason is looking at him, and Leo wonders how many of the cracks in his armor he can see.

Leo doesn't want company.

Leo desperately needs company.

He's so used to being alone in moments like this he's not sure what he wants anymore.

But Jason is there.

And Leo nods.

Jason isn't the first one to ask, of course. But he is the first one who doesn't seem to believe Leo when he nods and replies that yeah, of course he's okay why wouldn't he be; he's the first one who seem to realize that the smile carefully plastered on Leo's lips is as fake as the belief that the Greek gods have never existed. He's the first one to take a second, closer look, and he's the first one who keeps asking.

And Leo, well, Leo is getting used to it. And maybe he likes it a little too much.

He shouldn't, knows he shouldn't, knows Jason is just that kind with everyone, that he cares for everyone, that the way he cares for Leo is no different from how he cares for any of his other friends.

He knows.

It doesn't really make it any easier.

Jason asks and, usually, Leo lies.

The lies always feel familiar on Leo's tongue, so much that he's not sure he would be able to be honest even if he wanted to.

It's so much easier to laugh it away and pretend it's nothing, rather than trying to explain to someone everything that's wrong with you. What even is wrong with him? It's been so long he doesn't even know anymore. He wouldn't know where to start in telling anyone (in telling Jason, because there's really no one else. He can be that honest with himself, at least).

So, Jason asks, and Leo smiles, and lies.

And Jason doesn't believe him.

Leo starts to lean on it. To lean on the soft words of concern, on the feeling of a solid shoulder pressed against his, on the comfort of a pair of blue eyes looking concerned at him.

He’s not sure when, but at some point lying to Jason starts to feel wrong.

It takes Leo a while to recognize the feeling - he hasn’t been feeling like this for a long while, he’s pretty sure the last person who has ever made him feel this way is his mother; it feels so weird now, but Leo finds himself wanting to be honest.

“Ehi”, Jason says. “Are you okay?”

It’s become such a familiar question now, as long as it’s coming from Jason’s lips, accompanied with Jason’s thoughtful eyes scrutinizing him.

“Yeah, sure”. It’s a reflex, replying like this. Leo regrets the words as soon as he’s done speaking them.

They’re sitting near the canoe lake, and the Camp it’s weirdly quiet.

The war is over, they’re both alive, and Leo should feel better. He does, in some ways - it’s easier to tell himself he’s enough, it’s easier to show a smile that is a little less fake than usual.

Still, sometimes, he doesn’t, and he’s not sure why.

There are those moments when he simply deflates. Once, he would have said he needs to be alone in such moments; now, he’s not so sure.

“You don’t really look okay, Leo”.

Leo looks at him, and Jason looks back at him. It’s doing something to Leo’s heart - Leo is a little afraid it’s going to set itself on fire any time now.

It’s the first time Jason calls him out on his blatant lie.

“I…”, he starts. He’s not sure how to be honest anymore, how to take off the mask completely. “I… will be?”

It’s true, he always does feel better in the end. It still sounds like a question more than anything else.

Jason touches his shoulder to Leo’s, and this time he doesn’t move back after a few moments; he stays there, shoulder pressed against Leo’s, a solid and real comfort. Leo leans into the contact, he can’t really help it. It feels nice, like he could allow himself to fall, because Jason would be there to hold him and help him back up.

“You know, you don't have to smile if you don't feel like it”.

It hits Leo like a truck. It’s such a simple thing to say, so obvious. Right now, it feels bigger and heavier than anything.

“Smiling is easier though”, he finds himself saying.

“Is it?”

Leo thinks that right now the only thing that’s keeping him safe is the press of Jason’s body against him.

Is it? Leo tries to remember when was the last time smiling and pretending while he felt like this had actually made him feel better. He comes up empty handed.

He leans more into Jason, wishes for a second that Jason would put his arm around his shoulders to keep him together. He wishes it so hard it takes him a moment too long to realize it’s real when Jason actually does.

But no, it really is true, the weight is real and firm, and Leo still feels like he’s going to crumble any moment, but he also feels like he doesn’t have to worry about picking up the pieces, because Jason will do it for him.

Jason pulls him closer.

His heart is definitely going to set itself on fire now, but Leo goes willingly, and finds it a little easier to breathe.

He closes his eyes, and doesn’t force himself to smile.

The next time, Leo doesn’t wait for Jason to ask.

He feels himself grow distant, getting lost in the maze of his thoughts and memories, he feels a little too outside of the chatting around him; and he feels his lips grow heavy under the weight of his smile, the mask getting harder to keep in place.

It’s a little like instinct, going to find Jason. It’s a little like fate that he finds him immediately in his cabin.

And it’s a little too easy to let himself fall on the bed against him.

Leo feels a little better just with that.

“Ehi”, Jason murmurs, quietly.

He doesn’t ask, this time. Instead, he wraps his arms around Leo, pulls him closer and closer until Leo is basically curled in his lap, head against his chest.

Jason is sturdy under him. Safe, Leo thinks as he melts in the embrace.

He closes his eyes, and can’t feel anything but Jason around him, his hand caressing his head, his scent filling his senses.

He hasn’t been this bare around someone in years; he never realized how heavy his armor became until now, when he’s finally thrown it on the ground. Jason has taken it off of him piece by piece without Leo even realizing.

He doesn’t feel like smiling right now, but feels calm, quiet.

The sound of Jason’s heart is the only one he can hear, and Leo almost thinks he can follow a morse code hidden in it, behind every beat.

His own flaming heart is doing the same as he runs and runs - but that code, Leo knows all too well.

His fingers start tapping it on Jason’s chest.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Maybe, one day, he’ll be able to tell him out loud. Maybe he can give Jason some more honesty.

Maybe Jason can understand it already.

For now, he holds tighter onto him and lets himself be held.

Leo soon finds out that Jason's arms are incredibly warm and welcoming, and that it's way too easy to fall into them.

It becomes a habit, and something that Leo doesn’t want to go without. He tries to, reprimands himself every time because it’s not right and it’s not good, and it’s only going to hurt him again and again and again. And where will he even find hiding and comfort once Jason himself is the reason for his spiraling?

But Jason is always there, and Leo can’t help himself.

And so, he doesn’t even wait for him to ask anymore, he simply allows himself to let the truth show, to stop smiling and fall silent, and he leans into him. Jason is always ready to catch him.

Leo wonders if Jason has the slightest idea of what it means to him - of what he means to Leo. Leo would love to have the courage to tell him - or, better, tell him in a language that Jason understands.

Instead, he falls into him, snuggle into his chest, and loses himself in the feeling of strong arms circling him as his heart runs around in a fire in his ribcage and his fingers tap the same hidden message on Jason’s skin.

It’s so engraved into him, at this point, that his heartbeat probably follows the same pattern, the blood in his veins pumping to that same rhythm.

Maybe that’s why it takes him a long while to realize that that same pattern is being tapped on his own arm. Jason’s fingers follow the familiar movement of Leo’s, speaking the same words that his heart screams every second of every day.

Leo feels it against his skin, and he wants to cry.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jason doesn’t know, Jason doesn’t understand, or he wouldn’t be doing that.

Leo lets himself feel it one more time before reaching out and catching Jason’s hand to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”, Jason asks.

For a long moment, Leo can’t find his voice.

“Stop”, he manages to say in the end.

“Why?”

Such an easy question for such a complicated answer.

Leo wants to be honest. He desperately wants to put a fake smile on and leave. But he wants to be honest. He tries to find a joke to say, somewhere in his brain - something that would make the tension dissolve.

It’s become way too difficult to lie to Jason though, especially when he’s holding Leo like this.

“You don’t know what it means”, he ends up saying.

A moment of silence follows. Maybe Jason has gotten tired of trying to talk to him, after all.

“Of course I do”.

Leo stops, then turns to look at Jason.

“No, you don’t”.

Jason smiles, and Leo’s heart stops beating. There’s no way he isn’t going to set himself on fire any moment now.

“Yes, I do”.

“Then why are you doing it?”, Leo asks. He tries to move away, to put some distance between them, tries to take his armor and his mask back; but Jason keeps holding him, and keeps them out of his reach.

“Same reason why you’ve been doing it all this time”, he says. Then adds, “Or I hope so”.

“Oh, I doubt it’s the same”, Leo scoffs.

He hates the way Jason is looking at him right now, hates the way he himself is feeling right now. Still, he can’t help but lean into the touch when Jason cups his face - gently, he’s always so gentle with Leo.

His fingers start tapping again, slowly, like they’re engraving the pattern right onto Leo’s soul.

“Leo”, Jason says. “I’m going to be brave for the both of us if you’ll let me”.

Leo wants to say something, anything, but his voice is gone again.

Ha can feel nothing but Jason all around him, can’t hear nothing but the hidden words being written on his skin.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The pattern merges with the spoken words as Jason says them.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Leo still can’t find his voice but his fingers know what to do, and so they reply, carving his feelings on Jason’s chest.

It’s a little like a dream, except that Leo’s dreams are never this nice.

He hides his face in the crook of Jason’s neck, hoping that he won’t set fire to the both of them. Jason lets out a soft happy laugh and holds him closer, leaves a kiss on the top of Leo’s head.

Leo is bare and honest like he’s never been before.

He smiles, and thinks that that feels like belonging.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #leo valdez #jason grace #valgrace #valgrace fanfic #my fics #i hope this isnt too ooc for leo #but i loved writing it tbh so its okay anyway!#i hate how rick completely forgot that he gave leo his humor as a coping mechanism #so #i took matter into my own hands lmao

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bloody-bee-tea · 6 months

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IntiMarch 2024 Day 20 - I can('t) take it

The prompt for this was "You're cute"

As soon as Satoru comes into Suguru’s room, he knows that he’s somehow upset. Suguru can read it in the way he holds himself, in the way he doesn’t barge in with his usual vigour and most of all he notices it by the way he doesn’t immediately start talking.

Suguru is sure that never happened before.

“What’s wrong?” He lowers his book, fixing his whole attention on Satoru, in case there’s something he has to do, some curse to kill, some butts to kick.

Suguru is down for anything, if only so it gets Satoru out of this funk.

“Suguru,” Satoru whines out and it’s enough to get him to relax.

If he can still use that particularly whiny voice then whatever is wrong with him can’t be life-threatening.

Satoru tends to go cold and serious when it’s life-threatening; he gets more ridiculous when his pride is hurt, so Suguru suspects the latter.

“You love me, right?” Satoru asks and Suguru’s heart jumps in his chest.

Satoru doesn’t mean it like that, never means it in a serious way, and yet—

“Of course I do,” Suguru gives back, maybe too truthful but Satoru is never picking up on that and today is no exception.

“And I’m so handsome,” Satoru goes on, walking over to where Suguru is propped up against the headboard of the bed.

“The handsomest,” Suguru dutifully agrees and that, too, is something he means.

He doubts there is anyone more handsome or more beautiful out there than Satoru.

“And I am so very smart.” Satoru pouts at him as he says it, and this is still somewhat serious because whatever Satoru is getting at has put him in a bit of a mood, so Suguru bites down on his smile and nods.

“Smarter than the adults around us, that’s for sure.” It’s not a lie, either; Satoru is very smart and while he doesn’t much care for classes and lessons and most of their teachers he always aces whatever test they throw at him.

“And I’m funny,” he finally says and drops down on the bed, his long body stretched out next to Suguru’s and that too makes his heart beat faster in his chest.

Satoru is always so free with his touches, so unselfconscious about his body and how he behaves and moves and it’s a danger to Suguru’s blood pressure.

“I’m always laughing, aren’t I?” Suguru wants to know and he very deliberately does not mention that no matter what Satoru says, it would always make Suguru at least smile.

As long as Satoru is around and talking to him, joking with him, Suguru will always be happy after all.

“What is this about?” Suguru finally asks when Satoru only lets out a long groan and he puts the book to the side now.

There’s no way he’ll get back to reading now, not when Satoru is making himself at home on his bed and Suguru would much rather pay attention to Satoru anyway. No book can hold a candle to how endlessly fascinating he finds Satoru.

“Shoko was being mean,” Satoru grumbles and scoots closer until he can bury his face in Suguru’s hip, hiding his displeasure away. “She was calling me stupid and ugly and annoying.”

Normally, Satoru stands above these things; Yaga has called him an annoying prick more times than Suguru can count, but this is Shoko.

Things are always different if people Satoru likes say these things.

“That was very mean of her,” Suguru agrees and scoots down on the bed, so he can sling his arm around Satoru, pull him up until his head rests on Suguru’s chest. “We’re going to have to make her apologise.”

“It was very mean,” Satoru agrees, his voice still small and hurt and Suguru fights the urge to press a kiss to his head. “Will you help me make her apologise?”

“You know I will,” Suguru immediately agrees, because if course he’s going to have Satoru’s back, even in this.

Shoko really can’t get away with making Satoru this sad.

“Shoko wasn’t right, was she?” Satoru asks after a moment, still sounding more hurt than Suguru would like. “Or serious. She was probably just joking. I mean—people like me, don’t they?”

“I wouldn’t go quite so far,” Suguru teasingly says, makes sure that his voice carries enough of it to let Satoru know that he doesn’t mean it at all, and he also tugs playfully on his hair.

“You’re being rude, too!” Satoru cries out, wrestling out of Suguru’s arm so he can flop down on top of Suguru and dig his pointy chin into his sternum. “Don’t be rude to me, too,” he whispers, the corners of his mouth turned down and Suguru smiles softly at him.

“I’m sorry,” he gives back and reaches out to card his fingers through Satoru’s hair, all the while hoping that he doesn’t notice just how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

“People do like you,” he then agrees because generally they truly do. As long as Satoru even cares a little bit what someone thinks about him, he turns up the charm and then there’s hardly anyone who is not at least a little enamoured with him. “And why shouldn’t they,” Suguru then goes on. “You’re cute, after all.”

There’s no teasing tone to his voice as he says this, because it’s the truth and Suguru can’t quite bear to tease Satoru about something like that but he was absolutely not prepared for the way Satoru goes bright red in the face, opening and closing his mouth like a fish and for a split second Suguru fears that there’s steam going to come out of his ears.

And then Satoru teleports away.

“What the fuck,” Suguru mutters, no longer being pressed into the mattress by Satoru’s reassuring weight and he shivers with Satoru’s missing warmth.

That sure as hell did not go how Suguru expected it to go—not that he expected much, to be honest—but it still stings to know that Satoru was desperate enough to get away from him to simply teleport.

Suguru will have to apologise the next time he sees him.

~*~*~

Satoru remains elusive.

Suguru is certain that he sees him every now and then but before he can even so much as get a glimpse of Satoru, he has already teleported away.

It’s starting to hurt, if Suguru is honest.

And with how desperately Satoru is avoiding Suguru, there’s only one thing he can do.

He needs to talk to Shoko.

“Oh, that face promises me a real good time,” she says as soon as Suguru walks into her office and he doesn’t even bother to try for a happier face. He’s fucking miserable without Satoru and it’s been two weeks of this now.

There’s nothing to be happy about.

“What’s going on?” Shoko asks and she sounds genuinely concerned and that alone is enough to show Suguru just how bad he must be looking.

“Have you talked to Satoru, lately?” he wants to know and Shoko narrows her eyes at him.

“Are you two fighting?” she demands to know and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Is that the reason why he won’t leave me the hell alone?”

“I—you could say that,” Suguru gives back and pushes a hand through his hair. He hasn’t bothered with putting it up today, too stressed out by the fact that today marks the two week mark of whatever kind of fight they are having.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure,” Suguru admits and heavily sits down on Shoko’s chair. “I said he’s cute and he teleported out on me. He’s been avoiding me ever since. I can’t even apologise.”

“He freaked out over a compliment?” Shoko asks for clarification and Suguru shrugs.

“Who knows what goes on in his head.”

“Geto, if he’s not pissing people off on purpose he’s literally always low-key flirting with everyone he meets. How can he not take a compliment in return?”

“I don’t know, Shoko, okay?” Suguru snaps at her and then immediately winces. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t meant to—it’s just really getting to me that he won’t even let me apologise to him.”

“What do you want me to do about this? You did come here for help, right?”

“I did.” Suguru nods. “I’m not sure, actually. Maybe just tell him that I want to apologise? That I’m sorry and that I won’t do it again?”

“And will you?”

“What?”

“Not do it again?” There’s a knowing gleam in her eyes and Suguru huffs out a breath. Of course Shoko knows what he’s helplessly in love with his best friend.

Former best friend, Suguru bitterly thinks as his heart hurts.

“Not if it means he’s going to avoid me like he is now. I’d rather die than go through another two weeks of this. I can take it if he doesn’t feel the same, or doesn’t want to hear it or whatever, I just—I need him to come back.”

“Alright,” Shoko decides and claps her hands. “I’ll tell him. No promises, though, you know the only person who can really make him do anything is you.”

“Thank you for at least trying,” Suguru whispers out and gets up to leave her to whatever it is she’s doing down here by herself all day long.

Now all he can do is wait and hope that Satoru will give him a chance to apologise.

~*~*~

It takes three days. Three long excruciating days until Satoru doesn’t go running when he spots Suguru and Suguru can’t help the surge of hope in his chest.

If only he gets to apologise, everything will be alright again.

Satoru waits until he’s closer before he nods towards Suguru’s room. “Can we—”

“Sure,” Suguru says and he feels awfully stiff around Satoru and he hates it with a passion.

They don’t speak until they are inside and the door is closed behind them but then Suguru can’t hold it in any longer.

“Listen, I just want to apologise,” he starts but his heart falls when Satoru shakes his head.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Suddenly, Suguru feels fragile. He hadn’t known that their friendship could be broken just like this, just by one measly comment, and the knowledge that it’s already too late is splitting him wide open.

“Oh, I see,” he manages to get out, blinking rapidly to get rid of the burning in his eyes and Satoru must notice that he’s close to breaking because he pushes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“That came out all wrong,” he mutters and then louder says: “There’s no need for you to apologise because you didn’t do anything wrong. There, that’s better.”

“I didn’t do—Satoru, you avoided me for two weeks! How can you say that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“I—overreacted?” Satoru carefully offers and it just leaves Suguru confused.

“Overreacted? Over what?”

“You complimenting me,” Satoru admits and sits down on Suguru’s bed. “I’m not—very good at taking compliments. Or have people flirt with me.”

“You flirt with people all the time!”

“Yeah, but that’s different! It’s different when someone does it to me and with you it’s extra different.”

“Extra different,” Suguru repeats because that doesn’t make any sense at all.

“I flirt with people because it’s fun and it’s hilarious to see them flustered. But you—you mean it. You meant it when you said I’m cute and I—” Even just saying has Satoru go red in the face again and Suguru sits down on the floor.

“You were—embarrassed?”

“I—it was—”

“Why would you avoid me for that long over something like that?” Suguru wants to know and if at all possible Satoru’s face only goes redder.

He wrings his hands in his lap before he takes a deep breath and straightens up.

“Because I realised that I wanted you to mean it. I wanted you to find me cute. And handsome and smart and all the other things you said back then.”

Suguru’s next exhale is slightly shaky because—“Wanted? As in, you no longer want that?”

It would just be Suguru’s luck to miss his chance with Satoru, he thinks, somewhat resigned to his fate already, because of course someone as amazing as Satoru would never actually give him a chance.

“No, I do!” Satoru yells out and drops down from the bed so he sits right in front of Suguru. “I still want that. I want you to mean it,” he finishes, his voice quiet and he doesn’t quite manage to hold Suguru’s gaze. “It’s kind of scary how much I want that.”

Suguru slumps with relief, scooting closer to Satoru until he can drop his head down on his shoulder.

“I do. Think all those things about you. You’re cute and handsome and smart and funny and my favourite person in the entire world.”

Satoru’s breath stutters in his chest, Suguru can feel it, and when he peeks up at him, he’s making the same dumbfounded face he did when this entire mess started.

“You really can’t take a compliment, huh?” Suguru drily says and dares to flutter his lips over Satoru’s throat.

“I can take them just fine,” Satoru croaks out and shivers when Suguru’s laughs. “I just have a hard time taking them from someone who matters to me.”

“I matter, huh?” Suguru asks, though it’s mostly just to tease Satoru some more.

It’s more than obvious that Suguru matters to him after all.

“You matter so much to me,” Satoru breathes out and hides his face in Suguru’s hair. “Cause I’m in love with you and the thought that you might not mean it was very scary.”

It’s not often that Satoru admits that something is scaring him, so Suguru decides not to tease him about this.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he gives back, moving closer to Satoru’s throat so he can pepper it with kisses better. “In case that was still unclear.”

“I think I got the gist.” Satoru’s voice is high and breathy and it’s enough to make Suguru pull away, so he can cup Satoru’s face in his hands.

“Good,” Suguru decides and then leans in for a real kiss.

He swallows the sound Satoru makes right down but when Satoru almost climbs into his lap he can’t help the big smile. It makes kissing a little bit hard but Suguru wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not when it’s with Satoru.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #ieiri shoko #misunderstandings #pining #fluff #hurt/comfort #getting together #love confessions

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resisteverything · 1 year

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I find it so annoying when homophobes want to hide their homophobia but also be openly homophobic so they just sort of act like they're talking about the overall concept of sexuality and think that fools anyone but themselves.

I heard someone unironically say with their whole ass chest that cartoons used to be essentially aromantic and asexual until Steven universe opened the floodgates for them to suddenly become obsessed with sex and romance. You know, Steven universe, a show that came after Regular show, after adventure time. after batman TAS, and after hunchback of Notre dame.

You know... regular show, where:

Mordecai has a crush on one girl for several seasons and there are constant episodes about/references to it all, and he stares at her ass and he is teased for being “friends without benefits” with her, then he gets a girlfriend after being rejected but then the first girl comes back and it’s a whole annoying drama with way too many episodes.

Outside of that there are jokes like Rigby laughing about a ballroom holding "huge balls" or clearly misinterpreting the term "muscle man's package" and multiple jokes about "dropped balls". Not to mention the line "What kind of lose would want a bunch of chicks tearing their clothes off?" or lamenting that a girl in a movie will be talking about her feelings "fully clothed" and stuff. And Muscleman talks about a love of "lady pecs” and “guests with breasts" and may or may not have had sex in a bag… on screen.

Around this time we had adventure time, where:

Finn has a one-sided crush on an adult woman who turns into a teen for one episode and kisses him but then becomes an adult again and then he gets a girlfriend and they stay together for multiple seasons until he gets so obsessed with the wet dreams caused by watching her fight the ice king that he ruins his relationship with her. Then Jake has kids with his girlfriend who he never marries for the entire show, meaning he had like 8 kids out of wedlock on a kids show, and the show goes out of it's way to confirm them to be not married at one point.

And when he's in a funk over losing his arm he decides to make out with every princess in Ooo, and even brings home a girl who looks like both his ex girlfriend and his old crush because he's not over either of them. He is implied to have had underage premarital sex with LSP, and it was implied to be at the very least questionably consensual. This is a kids show.

Not to mention the joke where the bounce house princess acts like a pervert, tries to convince Finn to get inside her, and opens her flaps for him, or the time he was forced to power a whole troll city with "sexy fun dancing" around a pole, or the comments LSP makes about Finns butt like calling it "tight" or asking if he does squats, or the time she has a vision in a dungeon of Finn coming onto her by taking his shirt off.

Then we get to Batman TAS:

Harley quinn emerges from a giant pie ass-first with tal well defined asscheeks showing through the pie, looking very naked, singing an impression of Marylin Monroe's birthday song to the president, asking joker to "take the night off and play" and asking him if he "wants some of her pie" because she's "sure he'll ask for seconds". If a gay man did this in a kids show republicans would literally stop the rotation of the earth.

I haven't seen that much of the show, but I'm sure there's going to be more of this as I keep watching.

And as for hunchback:

The whole male cast wants to fuck Esmeralda. She does a whole sexy dance and spins around a spear at one point, and Frollo's whole thing is that he's super horny for her but thinks it's sinful to be so he just sort of sniffs her hair all creepy and demands she "choose him or the flames", and sees her dancing sexily as a demon in his fireplace in one scene. Phoebus ogles her while she dances. I was surprised at how little there was of this movie because this was the sex disney movie, but I am comparing a movie to a TV show so yeah.

There is no way to avoid the sheer extreme horniness of all of these properties and the only way you make statements like this is if you literally just fucking lie.

Make no mistake of it, these people are fucking lying. Maybe they don't realize it but that's what they are doing, but they just are.

Cartoons never have and never will lack a focus on relationships, or a focus on sex. It will always be a thing. Most queer representation is actually very chaste, even at it's horniest. You're never going to see the "bootyquake" scene from sym-bionic titan in a modern queer cartoon. You're never going to see a homoerotic version of Esmereldas dance. You're certainly never going to see them do shit like Harley Quinn emerging butt naked from a pie. Even Megara's seduction routine would not fly.

The fact that anyone considers this point valid enough to even say aloud is fucking ridiculous.

#LGBT #gay #TW rape #TW rape mention #Cartoons #modern cartoons #representation

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priestessri · 1 year

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Rant/self-harm/autism warning: ⚠️⚠️⚠️

For the past hour, I have been in tears, my autism has been in overdrive, and I have been just in my rm on the floor in tears, nothing relaxing me. So I decided I'd run a cold shower. I just stood there for 20 mins, not noticing the cold water. Then mum spoke to me, I wasn't in the mood so I ignored her and now she's talking about me to our family about my "tantrums" I am so funking passed that she thinks she can do this. What happened to love and family support or the fact she tells me repeatedly that I can talk to her about anything. I feel so funking worthless right now. It's like I'm being told I'm just weak and pathetic and like I'm not good enough because I can't always hide what I'm feeling. I have been fighting the urge to cut myself. It doesn't hurt anymore. I just watch my blood run down my arm. In the end I just started punching my legs until I felt pain, until I knew it would bruise. But to her, I'm just trying to get attention. It's not even because of autism, my brother has autism and he can do anything he wants, anywhere he wants and she'll just say "it's his autism, he needs to let it out"

Maybe I'm just a joke, created by destiny as a form of comedy.

#self h@te #self h@rm #hatred #autism #rant post #family #kmn pls #meltdown #despression #mental health

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casspurrjoybell-28 · 1 year

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Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 19

*Warning: Adult Content*

I have realized that I am not suited for social situations whatsoever.

In hindsight, this is something I should've learned earlier on but at this moment it's become clearer than ever.

The moment, in particular, I'm talking about is how on Friday at lunch, the peaceful cafeteria table that once belonged to 'The Triplets' aka Lylah, Wren and I, has suddenly been surrounded by a colony of football jocks, courtesy of Jay.

Jay's seated next to me with his arm around my shoulders, telling me all the latest news about him and the team.

I'm in a sandwich between him and his friend Yvonne, a female alpha with russet brown skin, her hair styled in cornrows that stream down her back.

She keeps cracking purposely stupid jokes in an attempt to make Lylah laugh.

It's been unsuccessful so far but she is relentless.

I don't miss the little smile Lylah's trying to hide.

"You'll go to my game tonight, won't you?" Jay asks me, flashing me a charming smile.

"O-Oh, uh-.." I start to stutter, losing the ability to speak as everyone's eyes watch me expectantly.

I look to Lylah for help and she nods at me excitedly, encouraging me to reply.

"S-sure. Can't wait," I finally manage to get out.

A chorus of whoops and hollers resound around me and everyone looks excited.

Except for Wren, of course.

He blows his long hair out of his face disinterestedly.

But other than that, he's been acting normal so I try not to think anything of it.

After lunch, we're walking through the halls and Lylah is nearly bouncing off the walls.

"Isn't this so amazing? We were personally invited to the game," she exclaims, latching onto my arm and pulling on it.

"Yeah but anyone can go. You don't need an invite," Wren huffs.

"Oh, stop being such a negative nancy. You better come tonight hoe."

"Um, well..." Wren looks conflicted, avoiding eye contact with us.

"Come on," Lylah insists. "The Triplets have been in a funk all week! We need something to lighten up."

We both give Wren pleading looks and he eventually gives in, a smile breaking out on this face.

A smile that fills me with relief because I haven't seen it in a while.

"Ugh, fine. But I know y'all just wanna go for the players, not the game."

"Hehe, you caught me," Lylah sticks out her tongue and winks teasingly.

Wren rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

"You're shameless," he says and we all laugh.

We're at Lylah's after school getting ready to go to the game when it crosses my mind that I haven't seen Daemon for a few days.

He's been busy with his pack work and Lucien's been the one driving me.

It's weird but I feel like I miss him.

No, I just miss arguing with him.

That's it.

I miss blowing off steam as he gets all pissed off, his voice deepening to that angry rumble as he gives me that devouring look of his.

Ugh... here I am thinking these things again.

I pull out my phone to text Lucien that I'm going to the football game tonight.

He just tells me to be safe and to get back home before eleven.

He's so nice.

It's almost strange to me how nice he is.

The fact that fathers like him exist is crazy to me.

I've tried with all my might to remember my real father but my memory of the past is so hazy days.

I still remember the horrible pain and things I endured but things like how people or places looked back in Dark Moon are so hard to recall.

Sometimes it feels like my brain is shutting down, like it's trying its best to block the memories of that place out.

My father is even harder to remember than my mother.

He was actually the Head Alpha of Dark Moon when I was younger.

I don't even remember his name.

He abandoned the pack when I was six and that's when his brother, Alpha Ferix, took me and my mother in.

He also stepped up to take the place of Head Alpha in my father's absence.

I don't feel much for my father.

Contempt, maybe.

For being a coward and running from his mistakes.

Alpha Ferix always told us that the reason my father left was because he didn't have the courage as Head Alpha to go forward with a crucial attack, so Alpha Ferix had to step up and do it himself.

After that, my father was shunned and abandoned us out of shame.

During those conversations, I remember how my mother would never speak.

Her mouth would always be pressed in a firm line and her eyes cast downward.

There was no light left in her after that.

She fell ill to a parasitic disease that was rampant at the time.

It's called Xaerva.

Usually, a person's immune system can fight it off but the old and weak are easily susceptible.

My mother wasn't old but all the fight she had in her left with my father, her mate.

She didn't have the strength to win against the disease.

Her blood poisoned and she died.

And that's how I ended up all alone with my uncle, who's also my stepfather, Alpha Ferix.

It's confusing but he basically forced my mom to take him as a replacement 'mate' instead of my father.

But she hated him.

And she took that hate to her grave and died after four years in that hell with him.

I used to be angry with her, for leaving me to suffer but now it just saddens me.

I wish we could have escaped together.

It's all in the past now.

I just don't want to think about it anymore.

I try to push it out of my head as I attempt an eyeliner wing in Lylah's bathroom, failing terribly.

It looks like a thick slug attached itself to the corner of my eye.

How does Lylah do this every day and look killer?

I'm hopeless.

Lylah knocks on the door, not waiting for me to invite her in before she barges in.

"Lylah," I screech, attempting to hide my face behind my hands.

But she's already seen it, evident from the snort that leaves her mouth.

"Oh, Ash, that looks rough buddy," she laughs as she pulls out her phone to snap a pic.

I scowl at her, trying to block her camera with my hand.

"Very funny."

Then I watch as she pours some type of clear solution onto a cotton swab.

"Let me fix that for you," she says, wiping at my eyes.

So I let her get to work and by the time we're all done getting ready it's nearly seven, which is when the game starts.

I can't believe we took three hours to get ready.

Time flies when you're trying to do eyeliner, I guess.

When we get there, I'm overwhelmed by how packed the stands are.

We manage to find a spot near the field but it's near a group of loud Alphas who definitely look too old to be high school students.

Lylah whispers to me that they're probably alumni.

Jay lights up when he sees us, waving at us from the field and we wave back.

I don't really understand what's going on the field so I just cheer when everyone else does.

It's enjoyable, at least until the group of guys starts bothering us near the end of the game.

"Hey, what's your name, sweetheart?" one of them asks Wren, scooting closer to where we're sitting.

Wren just frowns at him, ignoring the question.

"Awe, don't play hard to get," he continues, his friends snickering and egging him on.

"Guys, I need to go to the restroom," Lylah suddenly says, grabbing our arms and standing up.

This earns a round of dissatisfied grunts from the Alphas as we leave.

Ew, they're total pigs.

Living as Omegas in an Alpha-dominated society kind of sucks.

They think they can just make advances on us whenever they want.

As I look back, I notice one of them staring at me intently.

I realize he's the man I saw at the garage when I ditched school with my friends.

The one Daemon was begrudgingly talking to.

Just like then, I don't like the look in his eyes.

"Thanks for that, Lylah. Ugh, those creep,!" Wren shivers in disgust.

"Fucking grown men acting like sleazebags."

"What's new?" Lylah sighs as we walk down to the bleachers to the half-sized chain link fence that separates the platform we stand on from the field.

We choose to stand there until the game ends rather than go back to our seats.

With a final touchdown, the coach blows the whistle and our side erupts in cheers.

"Did we win? Did we win?" I ask excitedly.

"Yeah duh, Ash. Look at the scoreboard." Wren laughs and I do, seeing that we won by double, 30 - 15.

I watch as our team celebrates, lifting Jay up in the air in elation.

Then they let him down and he pulls off his helmet, spotting me up at the front.

He jogs over and Lylah squeals.

"I'm glad you're here," he grins up at me and a crowd starts to surround us.

"Wouldn't miss it," I say, flushing a little.

Then he starts doing something I did not see coming.

He starts pulling off his jersey, making everyone start to scream.

I watch with wide eyes as he pulls it clean off, revealing his sweaty bare chest.

Lylah is squealing like there's no tomorrow, gripping my arm so tightly it feels like my circulation is going to get cut off.

Then he hands the number eighteen jersey up to me and the screaming around us only gets louder.

"For you, gorgeous," he winks and I think I hear people fainting.

I take the damp shirt in my trembling hands, not believing what just happened.

"T-Thanks," I say breathlessly, overwhelmed by everything.

"Oh my God. Let me smell it," Lylah yanks my hand that's holding it up to her face and breathes in deeply, coughing a little as her eyes squint.

"Okay, it was better in my head," she quickly pushes it away from her face in disgust and Jay bursts out laughing.

I can't help but smile as Jay animatedly goes over the highlights of the game, making exaggerated hand movements.

The crowd dissipates after a while and Lylah pulls Wren off somewhere, saying she'll let us have our 'alone time.'

"So, how was I?" Jay asks.

I don't know how to tell him I couldn't really tell any of the players apart with their helmets on, especially because I didn't know his jersey number until now.

"Amazing. You played so skillfully and scored..so many goals," I gush, trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about.

Jay raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

"Something tells me you didn't know which one was me."

I blush, wringing my hands in his jersey.

"Guilty. But I do know you carried the game. Congrats, Jay."

"That's enough for me," he flashes me another grin before a teammate calls him over to talk to the coach.

We bid our goodbyes and I walk back to the bleachers, getting swept up in the crowd of people streaming toward the exit.

I check my phone, seeing that it's already 10:30.

I need to get home.

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tartagilicious · 3 years

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💌 how beautiful it feels when they want to know about the worlds you hold inside of you. // requested by anon:

-> hiii i hope you’re doing well! i was wondering if you could write something with artem helping a reader who has trouble cleaning their room? maybe it’s cause they get in bad funks a lot and get embarrassed to ask for help :O

“artem!” a nervous smiles comes to your face as his eyes meet yours, casual under the slight mess of his bangs. in his hand is a bag of what you can only assume are more of the meals he’d begun promising you so long ago — just in time for the low evening hour.

“i wasn’t expecting you so soon,” you say, hiding behind the doorframe as you speak. “come in!"

artem nods as he walks past you. if he notices your hesitance, he chooses to say nothing. you follow his route to the kitchen closely, all the while trying to peek at the contents of his tote.

his laugh is soft. “you’ll find out what we’re having in a minute, be patient."

you flush and go ahead of him, laughing. you aren’t a frequent chef, so your knowledge of food is often critiqued by your partner. but, you like to think that your skills hold a certain amount of charm. even now, you’ll occasionally grab the wrong pans, or prepare something in an unceremonious way — but with such a well-versed teacher, how could you not learn quickly?

“not even a hint?"

you smile over your shoulder as you reach for two plates in the cabinet. he looks up at you with a slight smile as his brow quirks, unpacking the glass containers in front of him carefully.

“there’s no need anymore."

you set the ceramics down on the island at the same time artem peels back the wax paper over the first dish. sitting on a bed of lettuce is a hearty cut of salmon, doused in what smells like soy sauce and brown sugar.

“attorney wing,” you smile, looking at the fish and then up at him. a faint blush of what can only be embarrassment dusts his cheeks. “have i ever told you how grateful i am for you?"

he clears his throat, hand coming up to loosen his tie. “don’t let your stomach speak for you."

chuckling, you assist him in opening another container. inside sits what you can only assume is a side to the previous dish — cherry red tomatoes sit in a shallow pool of balsamic vinegar, any lacking spaces filled with small chunks of blue cheese.

“i’m serious this time,” you can’t help the amazement in your gaze as you grab for the plates you’d brought down, looking for any distraction as you speak. “your cooking is the only reason i remember to eat half the time."

you have the courage to look artem in the eye for a moment, and are pleased to see his ears faintly red.

“that’s not healthy.” he’s back on track quickly, as always. “you know you only have to say the word if you’d like me to bring you something—"

your eyes flicker to him as you grab utensils from his tote, a knowing smile curling at your lips. he clears his throat again, but the smile doesn’t leave your face as you attempt to dish out your respective portions.

you nod. “of course, i know.”

“i feel bad that you take care of me so much sometimes, though.” you admit. this time, it’s your turn to be flustered. “you’re my work partner, i shouldn’t be so comfortable showing you these unhealthy sides of me."

it comes out as a joke, but there’s a tinge of truth to what you say — and though you have no doubt artem can naturally pick it up, he chooses to say nothing. you both wallow in the slight noise of clinking utensils for a moment, until the fish between artem's chopsticks abruptly slips out of his grasp and onto his lap.

“oh!” you gasp as you take a step back, peeking at his face as he resolves to pick it up with his hand so the stain isn’t too striking. you wince as you watch the liquid bleed through the fabric.

“do you want me to get you a towel?” you offer in a panic, and part of you doesn’t expect him to accept. so, when he thanks you, you have no choice but to excuse yourself.

as you walk down the hall to your bedroom, you begin to rethink — there’s no telling where you put your clean laundry last, especially not in the state the room is in. but a few minutes of searching is better than denying him outright.

peeking in your bathroom’s closet, you’re displeased to find half the shelves barren and half of them filled with unused bath products. sighing, you realise the empty is thanks to the large basket beneath the lowest shelf, overflowing with just the towels you need.

yet, just as you think to return and offer him paper towels instead, you nearly bump into him when you meet in the doorway.

“ah,” you cringe, stepping back and taking a look at his face. artem seems more flustered than you are. in your peripheral vision, you notice that the stain on his pants has been mostly dabbed away. “i’m sorry, i should have looked before i—"

you stop in your tracks without warning, voice stamped out as you remember the mess behind you. he quirks a brow at your hesitation.

“something wrong?"

you quickly shake your head, moving to shuffle himself out. “no, no, you just don’t need to see the state my bedroom is in right now — i haven’t been in the right mood to clear it out lately."

he peeks down at you as you attempt to manoeuvre him away, letting out a light chuckle as he puts a hand on your shoulder. it stops your frazzled actions and rushing thoughts in one fell swoop, albeit by bringing an embarrassed tint to your cheeks.

“have i been working you too hard?"

the phrasing makes it seem like he isn’t serious, but you know your colleague — when you look up to meet his eye, you can see that he’s just being as thoughtful as ever. “no, no, it’s nothing like that.” you manage.

“i just don’t think being an adult has really sunken in for me yet, you know?” you try to explain, letting out a nervous laugh as you look for somewhere to settle your gaze. artem is so close that you can barely stand it. “everything goes by so fast that half the time i don’t even realise it gets to be such a mess."

behind you, you refer to a multitude of things. articles of clothing hang from the back of your desk chair, waiting to be put away after being contemplated over one morning. a small amount of coffee mugs litter the outermost surface of your dresser, closest to the door and almost directly in view. you benignly hope he isn’t able to read the tiny phrases that paint the sides.

“that’s okay.” he nods suddenly, meeting your eye with a warm smile that melts your heart. “i’ve seen it in many and experienced it myself, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. mess is only temporary. if you can recognise it and resolve to fix it in the future, that’s enough. focusing on your health should always be your first priority."

oh.

you want to crawl into a hole — not because his response embarrasses you, or because he stands to be so casual about it, but because he is so sweet. so blindly considerate, your partner is the closest thing to an angel you can possibly think of. artem’s words make you feel giddy and hopeful in a way that no one else’s can.

you suck in a shallow breath, pushing down most of the smile that attempts to rise to your face. “thank you. that means a lot, especially coming from you."

artem’s ears flush almost immediately, a hand coming up to briefly loosen his tie as he smiles.

“when i told you that i would always be there to help you, i meant it."

#hmmm you said “helping” the reader but you didn’t say how :pepethink:#i have a whole list full of recipes for fics!! fun fact about me is that i have never been relaxed ever #tears of themis #tot #tears of themis artem #artem wing #artem x reader #tears of themis imagine #zuo ran #tears of themis zuo ran

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kiliinstinct · 3 years

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If you’re still doing the prompts, 3 for nalu❤️

Touch Prompt 3: hiding face in neck

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Everything was loud.

Too loud.

For Natsu Dragneel, this was a strange complaint to have. One that not many knew he could feel. He knew the reputation he held around the Guild. The most disruptive, the loudest, the one who over does it the most. Most days, he reveled in it. After all, why deny the truth?

Today wasn't one of those days. Everything was irritating: stressful. Gray's voice felt like nails on a chalkboard to him, Gajeel's laughter and song made his body tense and even Erza's excited exclamations towards her newly acquired slice of cake, burned him out. He was tired, over worked, desperately in need of a recharge. Generally, starting a fight or a loud-mouth party full of drinking and joking around, could re-energize him, but the rare occurrence was coupled with indifference.

"Are you okay, Natsu?" It was a well-aimed question, and he slouched against the Guild Hall table with a grown, barely tilting his head to face Happy's curious stare. "You're not yourself today."

"eh, m'fine," He drawled, barely separating the words before further slumping into his own arms. Was he getting sick? No, couldn't be. All things considered, he felt fine. He was just... he couldn't put a word to it asides from tired, but that didn't fit quite right.

Oh well, he wasn't good with words, why worry about it?

"I know!" Happy prodded his cheek, voice cheerful as he tried to pull Natsu from the funk he'd settled into, "We should go fishing! Since we're taking some time off after all those big jobs we did. Yeah! You can catch a big fish and I can eat it!"

"... what if I wanna eat it?"

"You have to catch one for me first," Happy insisted.

"Pfft." A small chuckle rumbled through him and he gave Happy a tired grin, one fang poking out from over his scarf. "Maybe later, buddy. When I'm more awake."

The small silence that rose between them was both a welcome and strange one. Happy considered his options, more than willing to accept the promise of a Fishing Trip for later, but it was too strange. How could Natsu deny fish? It was food! With a worried paw, he tapped Natsu's shoulder. "You sure you're okay? Do you want me to bring Gray over so you can fight him? Or, or, I can get Lisanna to make you something hot to drink! Or maybe I should ask Mira..."

Natsu considered telling Happy that he was starting to sound like Lucy, what with her penchant for rambling, but before the words could tumblr from his mouth, the Guild Doors opened and Happy's brainstorming of ideas came to an end. Lucy came strolling in with one hand in the air, waving to everyone she could. Natsu visibly stiffened, catching her scent immediately. He didn't bother to move, but his attention turned to her approaching steps as Happy took to the air.

A few more hello's and she was finally upon them, wide awake and very excited. "Hey guys! I had the best morning today. I finished another chapter in my book and I slept in for once and... what's wrong with Natsu?"

"Lucy!" Happy cried, flying into her arms. Natsu twitched again, but continued his attempts to hide his face into the table. "Natsu's acting weird today! He's all tired and wont do anything he usually does. Not even go and catch me fish!"

"Well that doesn't sound right." She pursed her lips together, looking from the exceed in her arms and back to her best friend at the table. His broad back was all she could see, but the slump reminded her of the few times he'd lacked energy after their larger jobs. (The time he'd ate Etherion came to mind...) Was he burned out from their constant adventures lately? Did he not sleep it off yet? Lucy sat down beside him, smoothly opening her arms for Happy to hop back onto the table.

"Do you need anything?" She asked, the tones of her voice slid into his ears and suddenly, Natsu had a good idea what he wanted. Happy's ideas had all been stellar, right on the mark on any given day, but that moment gave him a new urge. One he listened to without further though.

He sat up, eyes meeting hers for a second before he completely leaned against her. Her blonde hair was in the way, but he didn't care. her shoulder provided the perfect place to rest and he unceremoniously nuzzled his face into her neck without a single consideration to her own reaction.

Judging by the way she turned to stone and her body temperature increased, Natsu decided she was blushing. A perfectly normal reaction for Lucy to have.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Lucy asked, voice a little shaky. Her fingers wavered between shoving him off and patting his back, uncertain what action to take. "Natsu, what are you-"

"Just-" Natsu interjected, voice low and quiet, never-minding the way his breath across her skin made her squirm in her seat. It was a slight movement, and he used it as an opportunity to get more comfortable, nose nuzzling against her as he took in a deep breath.

"Natsu I am five seconds away from shoving you to the floor if you don't tell me what you think you're doing."

"Give me a few minutes, please?" The please did it. Her hand landed on his back instead as Lucy sighed, accepting his weight against her finally.

"All right, just a few."

Happy, took this as an opportunity.

"Kehe, he likes you!"

"Oh, shut it!"

Natsu didn't both denying it. His eyes closed and his body slowly began to recharge. That's better.

#Just Mira Answers #Nalu #Nalu Fanfiction #prompt #prompt fill #wisdom #but i did it!

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whatisthiswritingthing · 4 years

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Mushy Reunion - Alex Morgan & Charlie x Reader

Prompt: Definitely more Alex with Y/N and Charlie...maybe one where reader is away, and Charlie is really missing her and vice versa? Alex sets up some sort of surprise to see her while she’s away.

Notes: Set in the #sweaterthief universe. I also tweaked the prompt slightly.

As soon as Alex and Charlie entered the board room, the toddler took off towards the familiar group of soccer players. Plowing between legs, she tilted her chin up, searching for her favourite player, disappointed when she couldn’t be seen.

“What’s up goober?” Sonnett squatted down when she noticed the little girls excitement quickly leave.

“No Y/N,” Charlie pouted, dropping her chin to her chest and crossing her arms.

Alex joined the group, kneeling down to rub Charlies back.

“Remember sweetie, Y/N isn’t going to be here for a couple days.”

“Want Y/N!” Charlie stomped her foot, eyebrows creasing as her pout deepened.

Y/N would be joining the rest of the team in a few days, she was coming late because of a few different photo shoots and meetings with her sponsors.

“I know you do Charlie, but she can’t be here for a couple days, but then you get to see her the whole time at camp!” Alex tried to sooth. “I know you miss Y/N; she misses you too and can’t wait to see you. We can call her as soon as we go to our room.”

Charlie perked up at the prospect of getting to call Y/N.

“Hey favourite Morgan!” Aliie called as she approached. “And Alex.” She added on with a smirk.

Alex rolled her eyes at her friend. Allie came closer to the pair as Alex stood with Charlie in her arms.

“I’ve got a little surprise for you, favourite Morgan,” Allie continued to smirk, hiding her hands behind her back.

“Supwise?” Charlie questioned, lifting her head off Alex’s shoulder. Alex looked at the midfielder, not knowing about a surprised; Allie just winked.

“Yupp! Just for you! Ready?”

“I like supwise! Yes!” the toddler eagerly nodded her head.

Allie pulled a sweater from behind her back.

“Y/N wanted me to give you this,” Allie unfolded the sweater, showing Y/N’s number on the sleeve.

Alex tightened her grip to avoid dropping Charlie as she lunged forward for the sweater. As soon as she had it in her hands, Alex knelt down to help her put the sweater on. Charlie smiled, only her mouth and chubby cheeks showing with the hood dipping over her eyes.

Alex had no idea that Y/N would be sending one of her sweaters with Allie in her place. She couldn’t help but feel the incredible amount of love she had for girlfriend. The simple action meant more to the small girl more than anyone could know.

“Let’s go to our room and we can give Y/N a call,” Alex slid the hood off Charlie’s head, only for the girl pull it back up, similar how Y/N wore hers

Charlie eagerly nodded her head, hood flopping at the motion, taking off towards the elevator. The rest of the soccer players laughing at the excitement.

“I think it’s time to accept none of you will ever be the favourite,” Alex called over her shoulder, trailing behind her daughter.

Mother and daughter made their way to their room, Charlie bouncing up and down, unable to contain her excitement.

As soon as they made her way into the room, Charlie was reaching for Alex’s phone to call Y/N. Alex laughed, pulling Charlie to sit on the bed with her as she pulled out her phone to Facetime Y/N.

Alex could feel Charlie trembling in anticipation while they waited for Y/N to pick up the call.

“Hey guys!” Y/N greeted, large smile on her face.

“Look at my sweatah!” Charlie called out immediately, tugging the chest of the sweater up to show Y/N.

“Look at your sweater!” Y/N matched the toddlers enthusiasm. “That looks like one of mine.” she acted surprised., shooting Alex a sly wink.

“It is one of yours!” Charlie said, shoving the sleeve of the sweater into the camera for Y/N to see her own number.

“What do you say to Y/N for the sweater?” Alex prompted.

“Tank you!” Charlie snuggled her back into Alex. “When you come to camp?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

“Not for a couple more days kiddo,” Y/N said softly. “But I’ll be there before you know it!” She attempted to cheer the little girl up who had quickly pouted.

Charlie huffed and flopped back more into Alex. Her disappointment at not seeing Y/N very apparent.

The three continued to talk until Alex needed to go down for a meeting; Y/N and Charlie dominating most of the conversation, Alex mostly sitting there watching the pair with a smile on her face.

For the remainder of the evening and most of the next day, Charlie remained quiet and surprisingly subdued for the normally energetic toddler. The other players all tried to bring her out of her funk, but Alex knew Y/N would be the only person able to cheer the toddler up. Charlie walked around the entire time in Y/N’s sweater, refusing to take it off at any point.

Y/N had done everything she could to try and switch her photo shoots, unfortunately with no luck. Alex did her best to try and cheer up both her girlfriend and daughter, each equally pouty about the extended separation.

With the time difference Y/N would stay up late to ensure she could read to Charlie before bed; Alex setting her iPad up on a pillow, letting Y/N softly read until Charlie would fall asleep.

“Come on pouty pants, you’re worse than the three year old,” Alex teased the second night.

“Am not!” Y/N argued back, brows furrowed and bottom lip protruding.

“Right, that was such a sound argument,” Alex just laughed. She found it adorable how connected the two were. It had been a concern when the two women had gotten together, that Y/N and Charlie wouldn’t mesh well, she had nothing to worry about at all. The two had immediately clicked, the pair all smiles and giggles every time they’re together.

Except now, this was the longest the two had been separated. It was expected that Charlie would be pouting this much, not understanding why Y/N wasn’t there. Alex however, had not anticipated having Y/N match the level of pouting the three year old was doing.

“I just miss her Al,” Y/N outright pouted this time, Alex cocking her eyebrow. “And you too,” She tried to amend. “I miss you too, like sex and your face and stuff. But I miss my little buddy. Being an adult suck.” Y/N full on huffed, flopping into the pillows of her bed.

“Thanks, I miss sex and your face and stuff too,” Alex rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean,” Y/N rolled her eyes in return, too grumpy to defend herself.

“I know babe, you guys can have a big mushy reunion in a couple days,” the forward softened, “We’ll all go aw, it will be adorable, forget I exist, and go off and play.”

“You joke, but that is exactly how it’s going to go,” Y/N perked up.

“Thanks, love you too.”

“Now who’s pouting? Not my fault your kid is cooler than you,” Y/N teased.

“I’m going to bed now; you can pout on your own!”

“I love you!”

While Y/N was upset she didn’t get to see her two favourite people as soon as she wanted, she had worked out her schedule to arrive sooner than Alex knew. Pushing all her other commitments to be back to back, allowing her to get to camp two days earlier than anticipated.

It was hard to keep it to herself every time Charlie would ask when she was coming, bottom lip stuck out, head cocked to the side, looking all kinds of adorable. She knew the surprise would be worth it in the end though.

Y/N had an incredibly early morning flight, it would allow her to get to the hotel just after lunch. She had already talked to some of the staff to help time everything out right. Giving her time to see Alex and Charlie before they would have their afternoon film session.

The next afternoon, fresh from the airport, Y/N got the all clear from one of the staff that Alex and Charlie were distracted at the table. They opened the door and pointed out where they were seated, having made sure both would be facing away from the door.

Y/N slowly walked behind them, motioning at the players facing her to remain quite as she approached. All of them smirking while Alex was distracted by the grumpy toddler.

As Y/N got up behind Charlie, she gently flipped the hood of the sweater over her eyes.

“Hey!” Charlie squealed, fumbling with the hood while trying to turn in the chair at the same time.

The table erupted in laughter, Y/N smiling bright at seeing the two.

Alex helped Charlie removed the hood, holding on to her so she wouldn’t fall off the chair.

“Y/N!” Charlie yelled out excitedly when she saw who the culprit was. She immediately stood on the chair, jumping into Y/N’s waiting arms.

“Charlie!” Y/N caught the girl, tossing her into the air.

Once back down, Charlie snuggled into Y/N’s chest, small hands gripping her shirt as tight as she could. Y/N wrapped her arms around Charlie, pulling her in tight, squeezing her little body to her.

The entire table awed at the adorable reunion the two shared.

“Told you they would all aww,” Alex smirked, standing and wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist.

Y/N unwrapped one arm from Charlie and pulled Alex in closer, leaning in to kiss her lips.

“You stay?” Charlie asked, pulling out slightly, placing both hands on Y/N’s cheeks to look her in the eyes.

“You bet I’m staying kiddo,” Y/N leaned in, blowing on Charlies neck, earning a loud squeal of laughter.

“Does this mean the two of you will stop pouting?” Allie called from across the table.

Y/N stuck her tongue out at the midfielder, Charlie quickly mimicking the action.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines

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foulcrownkryptonite · 3 years

Text

The Man He Loved

Erwin x Levi

Levi disagrees with Erwin’s plan and confronts him after a meeting with the Scouts.

3.4K words

Content Warnings: swearing, bursts of anger, general meanness before the cavity inducing fluff comes into play :)

Levi sat quietly, arms crossed and eyes scanning each of the Scouts as Erwin laid out this coming mission's details. It was late and everyone was past the brink of exhaustion, but this meeting was unfortunately urgent. Eren and Historia… Those damned Internal Police lackies will stop at nothing to get their filthy hands on the two kids. And with the influence they have, their chance at success is more than possible. There was no time to waste. What they needed was a plan of action, an infallible one, at that.

“We still have many uncertainties about the titans and what the Beast titan’s plans are…” Erwin continued. “But keeping Eren and Historia safe is of the utmost priority. Humanity will fall if the Internal Police get their hands on them. In two days' time, we’ll need to devise a distraction.” Distraction? Levi swiftly side eyed Erwin as he continued his disquisition, his prominent features set in dedication. Why doesn't he tell me these things beforehand...

“Jean, you’ll pretend to be Eren and-“ Erwin was cut off by Jean’s groans.

“Huh? I look nothing like that brat. Clearly I’m far more handsome. They’ll think he suddenly became a model and Eren does not deserve that reputation.” Jean quickly retorted. Despite being crudely cut off, Erwin’s eyes remained weighted and unmoving. The stretch of silence that followed elicited an ugly snort from Conny, earning a poorly contained laugh from Sasha and a silencing glare from Mikasa. Once the punishing eyes moved to Jean, he quickly shut his trap and slunk in his chair, a curse being muttered under his breath. Are these damn brats capable of a single serious meeting? Levi scoffed to himself as Erwin resumed.

“As I was saying,” Jean somehow receded further into himself. “Armin will play Historia.”. Armin nodded, knowing there’s no saying no to the commander in this state. “I’ll lead the distraction as I’m perfectly fine with playing bait. They want me too, but that’s not important.” he went on. At this, Levi's jaw tightened. Not important?! They’ll kill you. What is he-

“Don’t worry, as this will not be for another week. The news of us hiding out won’t get to them for a short while.” Erwin concluded, standing up in his chair. Before he could finish his brief remarks, the scouts eagerly stood to attention. “Very well, that is all for tonight. Get some rest, Scouts. You’ve done good work. If there are any questions, feel free to ask. But for now, seek your sleep.” And with those words of finality, he receded back into his seat, the phantom pains in his arm ebbing and flowing as they usually did. Erwin never talked about it, but Levi could tell when it was bothering the commander. His eyebrows would furrow slightly, followed by a look of realization then poignancy. Whether he really wanted to or not, Levi always noticed these little changes in the man.

Hange let out a big yawn, waiting as everyone else quietly left the room. That is to say, everyone besides Conny, Sasha and Jean, those loud fucks. Levi instantly began mentally reciting what Erwin had previously said. Distraction my ass… Hange kicked up their feet onto the coffee table, expecting the usual post-meeting chat between the three of them. “Eyy I’m pooped, how about a-“

“Hange.” Levi said plainly.

“Eh?”

“Not today.”

“Alright… then why don’t we-“

“Not. Today.” Levi snapped, uncrossing his legs to stand. “Leave.”

Hange rolled their eyes, used to and unthreatened by Levi’s usual ire. “Whatever, I’ll just go party somewhere else then.” They stood too, walking toward the door. “You two buzzkills have a goodnight~!” They sang sweetly before sauntering out in an exaggerated confidence. Levi sighed before going to the door and locking it. Erwin just watched, unamused and unsurprised by his behavior. Levi leaned against the locked door and put his hands on his hips.

“So, a suicide mission? That’s your master plan?” he said coldly, grey eyes meeting blue in an unfriendly gaze. Erwin kept his lips sealed with silence, knowing full well the man across him had a lot more to say. “Tch, silent treatment too? Why don’t you tell me these things? Did you hit your head on the field before losing your arm?” He taunted, attempting to coax the tall man into talking.

Erwin’s eyes darkened just slightly. He really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Levi. His plan was practically foolproof, Levi just wasn’t thinking rationally. His arm hurt and he longed for a good night's rest, not wanting to be barked at by the man standing across from him. Truthfully, he was tuning most of what he said out. Just let him ramble until he’s satisfied.

Levi stomped his boot on the door, causing it to judder in return. “You’re not even LISTENING. Oi, shit-for-brains, talk to me like a man and stop wallowing in your suicidal self pity. What the fuck are you thinking?”

Erwin took a steady breath, composing himself before finally speaking. “Is this really about the mission, Levi?” He was met with cold icy eyes set in a dead glare. This really isn’t what he wanted to do right now. “Y'know what, nevermind. I don’t wanna hear it tonight.” he dismissed.

Levi was beyond irked. “Eh- what are you even saying? Damn, that titan really did scramble your head. Do I need to spell it out for ya? Write on little cards so you can relearn your ABC’s? Eh?! You’ve gone mad. This is stupid-“

Erwin lifted his hand up to silence him. “You don’t have to agree. By all means, yell at me. But this doesn’t change my plan.” He lowered his hand and looked him in the eyes, his mind tired and begging for rest.

Levi could feel his face darkening into a prominent scowl. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this… Your self righteous fantasies of being the humble hero are clouding your judgement. Pride? Heroism? That’s just some bullshit excuse, Erwin. You aren’t expendable. Killing yourself now isn’t going to help anyone. It’s not going to fix anything.” He spat, poison dripping from each word as his gaze remained locked on target. Erwin eyed him in return, eyes growing darker with each passing second. A tense silence stretched between them.

Levi sighed before starting again.

“We need that damn head of yours if we want to have any chance of a future, so quit being a baby and let’s figure out some other plan.” He reasoned, hoping these words would make his commander understand where this bout of anger came from.

Erwin sat silent for a moment, contemplating his words and filtering them with his usual routine of rationality and logic. What was Levi’s goal here? It is putting his own life in danger, not Levi’s. Unless the issue was that fact itself...

“Levi…” He began calmly, his assuring tone of voice encouraging Levi to calm himself. “I recognize how you feel, but you must see the bigger picture. You need to understand, I am replaceable, Eren and Historia are not.“

Levi instinctively tensed again, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, and knowing full well he wouldn’t like whatever Erwin would say next. “This mission is above me - above us. It’s our best option. We don’t have the luxury to achieve results without sacrifice, or at least without the risk thereof. I have abandoned many soldiers in the past, and to cower when that chance weighs on myself is unbecoming of a commander. I did not call a meeting tonight to discuss, but rather to inform. This is the plan, Levi. And frankly? I do not wish to speak about it further. That is all.” Erwin languidly finished, his usual punctuality succumbing to a tired dejection.

Levi realized then. He wasn’t speaking to Erwin, the man whom he trusted and dedicated his life to. Levi wasn’t speaking to the one who dragged him out of that shitty dump of a home and into the Survey Corps; He wasn’t here with the man who made badly timed jokes Levi could only roll his eyes at, nor the captain who suddenly took an interest in cleanliness upon Levi’s arrival, nor the friend who kindly lent Levi a shoulder and a warm cup of tea following his squad's extinction. This was not that man. Levi was stood in front of the Commander of the Survey Corps. An artificial hero who’d rid himself of his humanities in the name of freedom, eager to sacrifice what he must for the prosperity of the future. Erwin looked at Levi from behind that old table as if it were a wall of its own, made not for keeping titans out, but for imprisoning the man Levi knew him to be within.

A heroic façade. A selfless demeanor. That is what Erwin has chosen to be.

Bullshit. Absolute fucking BULLSHIT. There are at least a thousand ways out of this mess, why the hell is he so set on risking himself? An unbridled rage swiftly lifted Levi off the back of the door, boots stomping up towards the tired man in front of him. Levi seethed. He won't let Erwin succumb to whatever dumbass funk he seems to be in. He crossed his arms and scowled, voice biting and unsympathetic. ��So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up under the ruse of heroism cause you don't feel well? Because you lost your fucking arm to some ugly ass titan?”

Erwin glare was maddening, something that would make any other soul cower in fear, yet it only fueled his own vehemence. He’s not going to let Erwin walk away from this. “Tch. And to think I’d thought so highly of you... Go on then. If this is really what you want, go and die a coward's meaningless death.” The air hung heavy as they stared each other down. Silence, tense uncomfortable silence and shit ok maybe Levi had gone a bit too fa-

BANG. His hand hit the desk hard, the sound of Erwin's arm slamming the old wood echoing harshly off the cold stone walls. He was standing now, chair forgotten and fallen behind him. The look on his face made Levi’s heart catch in his throat, a dry lump forming as Erwin's eyes bore menacingly into him. His small figure felt diminutive as Erwin’s chest heaved with ferocity, before finally cracking with pure fury. “You dare tell me what I can or cannot do with my own life? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am your superior officer before I am your friend and I will not take this shit from you!”

Levi went cold, backing once more into the door as far as he could, gripping the handle for support, or perhaps a possible escape. He’s never seen Erwin snap like this and to see this eruption in him… It petrified him. “Well, now who’s the coward?” He said maddeningly, kicking the discarded chair further into the corner which sent Levi’s fight or flight into overdrive. Erwin towered over him, his hand slamming against the door a good two feet above Levi’s head. When did he get so damn close?

Levi opened his mouth, but could produce no sound. He was scared. This wasn’t Erwin. A primal rage had overtaken him and Levi could see it in the way his eyes oozed with hostility, in the way his astute demeanor had morphed into that of a feral beast’s. Taking a chance, Levi took a breath. “Erwin…” he whispered carefully, like a cornered animal trying to negotiate with its prey. Erwin’s eyes flashed with an indescribable something. He dropped his hand.

“Fuck,” he cursed, putting his hand to his head and wobbling backward before facing Levi again.

“Fuck, Levi, I’m…” he began. Once again, Levi was experiencing a new side of Erwin, a common theme tonight. “You…” He paused, collecting his words and continuing. “You need to understand exactly what it is I’m trying to say. It’s my life and you said it yourself earlier, I’m as good as dead. This arm… How exactly am I supposed to fight like this?” It was barely audible, but Levi picked up a slight crack to his voice. Infuriated Erwin was shocking to see, but this completely foreign vulnerability was something else. The two had been rather close, but nothing quite like this. It was jarring, but not at all bad.

Before Levi could say anything in return, Erwin continued, voice almost hushed and pleading. “Eren is the key to saving humanity and you damn right know it. If I can just lead the charge-“ he was cut off by Levi swiftly grabbing hold of his hand. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, some innermost part of him doing the decision making here. The action terrified the both of them, but it was a sign of comfort and that’s all Erwin needed. Besides, it stopped him from spouting more nonsense… So that's good, right?

Noticing the slightest squeeze of his hand in return, Levi found the words he wanted to say. Needed to say. “You know I didn’t mean that. I won’t let you die out there, Erwin. We need you…” his voice grew soft before he carried on. “I need you… So I won’t let you just throw yourself away, dumbass.” Ok now he really didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. The air was stiff as Erwin only stared down at him, and Levi directed his eyes back to the discarded chair. Anything really to distract himself from Erwin’s wide eyed stare. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t Erwin saying anything? He had made it worse. Fuck.

“I- um I’m I’ll just, I’ll just-“ Levi stammered, earnestly fumbling with the doorknob to leave. Bad choice. Bad night. Time to go. Erwin promptly grabbed Levi’s arm and pulled him closer, until he was flush with the broad surface of his chest. Levi’s face burned due to the proximity, and as Erwin snaked his arm around his middle, his dreaded blush only deepened. Not quite knowing what to do with his hands, he mirrored Erwin’s own actions, enclosing the embrace and- Oh. This is nice. Feeling Levi’s arms wrap around him, Erwin took the initiative to bend down, lowering his head to rest atop Levi’s shoulder.

“I need you too... More than anything” he breathed softly into Levi’s jacket.

Levi had never been one for flattery or sugared words. Lies only beget other lies and Levi valued honesty and definiteness. But this… This was something entirely different. Erwin’s voice was barely above a whisper, purely unguarded and emotive. This wasn’t some false declaration to earn his sympathy, but rather raw feeling, something Levi is not used to having directed at himself.

The tears came before rational thought could beat them, and Erwin deepened the hug in response. The two didn’t say a word as they stood and kept their embrace, never wanting to let go. It was then that he realized Erwin was shaking slightly, tears falling from the man in his arms as well. Levi gripped tighter onto him, his cloak bunching up into his fingers as he held on perhaps harder than need be. Levi wouldn’t normally indulge himself in such juvenile behavior, but he supposed, at least for tonight, he didn’t want to hold himself back.

Erwin’s calloused hand slowly crept its way to Levi’s neck, causing him to shiver. Unsure if this reaction was a positive one, the taller man froze. Levi understood this fearful body language and strengthened the hug, signaling it was ok. Taking this in, Erwin began to rub gentle circles on the back of Levi’s neck, causing him to stir and the fine hairs on his neck to stand. They’ve never touched, not like this. Neither dared to speak, each fearing it would end this blissful spell.

Returning the intimate gesture, Levi began to softly move the palm of his hand along Erwin’s back. Levi wasn’t a touchy-feely person - or, so he thought because being touched like this… He could truly die right here. And that would be ok.

Erwin rotated his head so he was facing the crook of Levi’s neck, and Levi shuddered as he felt Erwin’s hot, shaky breath. This in turn made Erwin nervous. What are we doing? I shouldn’t be-

Levi snaked a hand up to the base of Erwin’s neck and began to tenderly run his fingers through his hair. Erwin took this as complete reassurance that yeah, this was ok. And Levi was ok with it too. Nerves were high as Levi gripped the man’s shirt, wanting to cling to him in silence forever.

Craving his touch, Levi bent his head to face Erwin’s. Erwin noticed the sudden change in movement and opened his eyes to see Levi staring right back at him. He pulled his head back ever so slightly, ensuring he was properly facing Levi. He searched his steel eyes and found only warmth. Still, not a word was said as they got even closer, noses just barely grazing each other before finally-

Unexpectedly, a jarring thud came from outside the door. This was promptly followed by a distant “I’m ok!”. Being so caught up in the moment, Erwin jumped, his heart racing and a mess as he lifted away from Levi. He muttered a curse word before being forced to talk about what just happened between the two men.

Levi just stood there, the sudden lack of intimacy making him realize exactly what had just happened. Feeling damn near faint, he sat on the couch closest to the warm fire and Erwin followed suit, placing his hand on the cushiony surface as he glanced at the visibly nervous Levi.

Erwin reached over and grabbed Levi’s hand causing Levi to meet his gaze. “Is this ok?” He asked gingerly. Levi’s expression softened as he put his other hand on top of his. “Yeah, this is ok”. They sat like that for a moment, deep breaths filling the silence.

“At least let me come with you,” Levi said hurriedly, and Erwin’s eyes grew wide. “Levi…” He began, moving his hand to cup his cheek. Levi leaned into his touch, body settling as he listened to Erwin. “Levi, when have I ever excluded you from a mission? We're doing this together…” he pulled Levi’s face closer to his as Levi put a hand to the man’s chest.

“Together.” Levi repeated before Erwin sealed the space between them with a feather-light kiss, still not wanting to scare the shorter man away. But Levi’s return to the kiss was immediate and desperate, once again wanting to be close to the man he’d admired for years. The man he… Fuck it, the man he loved. Being held like this, being needed like this, needing him in return, it all felt so familiar despite how foreign it really was.

It was like home. Not the putrid and disgustingly cluttered underground, but rather the sentiment of it all. Being in Erwin's embrace, he thought of Farlan and Isabel, his dedication and her compassion. He thought of the ever rowdy scouts, of Hange, of the feeling of Erwin’s lips against his: that was a big one.

Levi wasn’t sure where this mission would take them, or where any of their upcoming escapades would lead them. But he was sure of one thing, as long as he was at this man’s side, his warm eyes meeting his own, he could bear it. No... They could bear it. Erwin pulled away from his lips for what felt like the tenth time this night. Grey eyes met blue, and for the first time in what had felt like years, Levi felt himself fully smiling back.

That night, perched in that dimly lit safe house on a tawny old couch, was theirs and theirs alone, forever to be looked back upon fondly. They were safe. And most importantly, they were each other’s.

“SASHA HOLY SHIT ARE YOU SEEING THIS!”

“CONNY SHUT UP!”

“MMPH!”

And most importantly, Levi had a couple of brats to silence.

#attack on titan #aot #levi #levi ackermann #erwinsmith #eruri #eruri feels #eruri comfort #erwin x levi #levi x erwin #fluff #hurt and comfort #our first ever fic #please be gentle with us #lmao

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that-tall-queer-bassist · 3 years

Text

My personal Pros and Cons of my ADHD

Pros

-noticing all the little details and appreciating them in the fullest

-Emotional Dysregulation, because when I get a new plant, or find that one oddly shaped metal marble I lost a while ago, I am so excited it’s pathetic, but I love that feeling of pure joy.

-hyperfixation of the week/day/hour (i know some people describe it differently, let me be pls) . I usually switch between art mediums, and/or a few video games/social media sites. for example, I’ve been on tumblr for 3 hours as i write this, after not touching it for, i think a month?

-nuerodivergent friends. They’re just better.

-the ability to completely drown myself in information to ignore reality. Is it healthy? no. But i simply cannot handle another existiential crissi rn, so i will instead play minecraft while listening to alt rock playlists on youtube because getting spotify sounds like a lot of work.

-my ability to retain absolutely useless information, from either my, or my other nuerodivergent friends hyperfixations/special interests. I can explain to you in terrible formatting if it’s out loud, the evolution, history, training, anatomy and roles of the horse in our world, and how ao3 works, and what makes or breaks a fanfiction.

-Object Impermanence. When i literally hide myself a treat or surprise and forget about it, then get so excited when i do find/discover it again. I hide google questions, and/or song lyrics in my tabs :) its so fun. Also, hiding away stressors. Again, healthy? no, but i don’t feel like having anxiety all day, so whatever.

-Emotional Dysregulation, again. I can switch from sad or angry to happy and excited/content in a few seconds. It’s also great for getting my siblings out of their funk. ex., my sister is mad at me. I make a silly voice repeating what she said or cross my eyes at her. she laughs, then we can talk and have constructive conversation about why she shouldn’t get that upset about me “cutting off her reading time” when we share a room and I want to sleep, and know that she will be very tired tomorrow if she doesn’t also go to sleep. (We have this conversation almost every single night, i’m not even joking)

Cons

-Emotional Dysregulation. When i get upset, I’m Upset. Like, big time, ruining friendships and familial ties if i let it get out of hand, Upset. Yeah.

-Time Blindness. Constantly late, or early, or under or over estimating the amount of time it takes to do a thing, not eating til 4 because you forgot but you also should just wait til dinner, but now its 9 and I still haven’t eaten-

-Executive Dysfunction. I can’t do the things needed to function. Don’t have the mental energy to explain this one, so google it i guess? There’s a whole checklist of things you need to be able to do to function, and i can do like, three on a good day.

-Sleeping Trouble. People with adhd have trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, and waking up. So, sleeping trouble. So I’m constantly tired.

-Internal Clock is SLIGHTLY OFF. Nuerotypicals have that normal sleep schedule. Adhd ers have it shifted forward by, i think, 2, 3 hours. So we go to sleep later, and wake up later, and that’s the only way to get a healthy amount of sleep. My entire family also eats dinner super late, which might be because we’re weird, but I suspect the inner clock thing cuz we all got adhd.

-Object Impermanance. I hid my math homework one time. I failed that class.

-Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Never trying, or starting cuz I’m so terrified to get a bad reaction. Constantly masking around certain people to appeal to the few of my Nuerotypical friends. Or, y’know, majority of my extended family. They’re ableist. and homophobic. And transphobic. And racist. and sexist. The list goes on, but, yeah. Never coming out to them! :D

-Masking. It’s exhausting and I can only handle so much of it.

-Not Masking around nuerotypicals. The shoot down after finally revealing my true thoughts, urges, feelings, stims, etc. just sucks. Super disheartening.

-Squirrel or shiny jokes when they’re made by people without adhd. Yes, I do get distracted by squirrels, and shiny things, and dice. Stop pointing it out, and/or putting me into yet another box of your labeling.

-saying that I’m lazy, worthless, or a disaster when really it’s not helping. I already have that internal monologue, you adding to it and giving it some truth/extra ammunition is not. helping.

-Emotional Dysregulation. Again, because mood swings. like, I’m trying to be rightfully angry with you. Stop making me laugh with you’re silly faces or pointing out of a weird face someone made in a picture you took.

-the stigma about the hyperactive subtype. I’m inattentive. I have No Energy. Ever. Sometimes i have restlessness, but there is still no energy. Stop portraying me as bouncing off the walls, especially with caffeine. Caffeine just catches my body speed up to my brain speed, settling me down a bit, at least mentally.

-people not getting when i say I’m overstimulated, or need some time alone to process or re-energize, and following me, or continuing to do the overstimulating thing. I will literally. lose. my. mind.

-when people shut me down after I share something that is really important to me, or make fun of me for liking something an “abnormal” amount. Flashbacks to overnight camp, when whenever I said anything about horses, they said I had to do five squats, and when i got really excited about discussing the differences in riding styles/types with another person who really liked horses, but rode english, they said that it was obnoxious, when i was just.. excited to finally find someone to talk to and who felt the same way after, basically, years and years of no one getting it or wanting to listen or talking with me about the thing. To this day I don’t discuss horses with anyone, cuz it hurts so much remembering that, and the fear of it happening again is still there.

-seeing other people be ashamed about their adhd and hesitant to mention until i talk, like, super openly about having it, in like, the first 5 minutes of knowing each other. It just.. hurts.

-I’m super empathetic, not in a way that’s helpful though. Like, wincing, or limping myself because I saw you drop something on your foot, and am imagining it so vividly that it feels like it happened to me. Reading a fic about abuse or depression, and it hitting too hard and hurting me almost physically, and on a personal level because I simply cannot handle it. Feeling someone else’s pain so vividly that i can’t comfort or help them in any way, because I am so preoccupied with feeling their pain.

-never being able to finish things without starting something else. All the WIPs in my google docs, istg, i will be driven insane by it.

(y’know, this was kinda fun. As a rant, but also as a way for me to identify things about myself and my adhd that i like. Like, I know its so much shorter, but I have a hard time with positive self affirmation, so it was kinda nice. I might do it again, but just the pros part cuz the cons are kinda depressing ngl.)

(OH, Y’all should reblog with your own personal pros added on! You can add cons if you’d like to :) I’m just interested in seeing how your experiences/feeling differ from mine :) )

#adhd #adhd life #executive dysfunction #positive affimation #but it's only the begining ig #i might delete positive affirmations #idk #pros and cons #pros and cons of my adhd #nuerodivergent #nuerodivergent friends are the best #i will elaborate at some point #I've been on tumblr too long

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danger-xylophones · 4 years

Text

Family Reunion Part 10

{masterlist}

Warnings: Have some more angst, my friends. Some character death-as in It happened in the past TPM, some description of pain/injury, a contactless duel, brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

This got really dark towards the end, I’m sorry.

Notes I’m so sorry this took so long, I was going through some stuff and this was a real humdinger of an installment to get hung up on.

Ya’ll need to thank @aberionart for this even getting completed. If not for her art giving me the motivation to attack this beast of a chapter, it wouldn’t have gotten done. Thank you for helping me get out of my writing funk! I always love your art and how positive and supportive you are of everyone!

PADAWAN WILD

Words: 6.7k

Taglist:@and-claudia // @tararuthven // @aberionart // @noiralei // @pinkiemme // @darthsmol // @zabrak-show // @obi-wan-kanbonemi // @videogamesandpoorlifechoices // @justalittlecloud

<- Previous

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“Well,” a voice unlike any you’d ever heard before seared over your ears-creating a cold sense of dread that dripped down your spine like ice water. You flicked your eyes open cautiously and raised your head off of Wild’s, simultaneously pulling the young boy closer to you. “What do we have here?” It continued, echoing all around with a low, completely unnatural reverb. You couldn’t help but pick up on the way the owner of the voice pronounced the letter ‘w’-like a ‘v’ instead. It...it was similar to the way Maul used to speak after trying to teach you paecian. It was always so funny to you that speaking in his mother tongue accidentally made him develop a bit of an accent for a little while afterward. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet, keeping Wild close to your front though as your gaze trailed down the ramp to observe Savage standing next to a tall creature clad all in red. They had a high forehead and black tattoos over their face in large blocks and groups. Eventually, you locked eyes with them, e/c staring into piercing, eerie blue. “Ah, you must be padawan L/n.”

“Mother Talzin, I presume?” You greeted cordially despite the agonizing urge to reach for your sabers and rid the galaxy of the witch. “I am...honored to finally meet you in person. But, if you please, I go by Y/n as I have forgone any affiliation with the Jedi.”

Mother Talzin hummed, moving unnervingly slow as she bowed her head just enough to acknowledge your confession. The strange tentacle-like pieces of cloth affixed to the back of her cloak followed the movement, slithering in the non-existent wind. “Very well, Y/n.” The Nightmother scanned you in silence after her statement, most likely trying to size you up. You kept your chin raised as you turned to face her more and pushed Wild behind you. Immediately, the witch caught the movement and her eyes zeroed in on Wild. “Ah, and who might this be?”

You swallowed and let your eyes flicker over to Savage for help but the yellow zabrak could offer none. “This is Wild.” You eventually explained.

“Your son?” The Nightmother observed though you had the slightest inclination that, though it sounded like a question, it was a statement designed to make you uncomfortable. And it was working. You nodded briefly, tongue darting out to quickly wet your lips-you were getting nervous. Mother Talzin became quiet again, now scanning over Wild who was quietly peeking out from behind you, one hand fisted into the fabric of your tunic and the other itching for one of the sabers on your hip. Evidently, he was as uncomfortable as you were. “He is a fine specimen.” You bristled, stepping to the side to shield Wild from her gaze entirely as your hand landed on your saber. Talzin looked back up at you and spoke with a wry smile, “It is a shame he is a half-blood, he would have made an excellent nightbrother.”

Over my dead body. You thought bitterly and fixed the witch with the most murderous stare you could muster. Talzin was unfazed by your offense and simply directed her attention to the other red zabrak in the cargo hold-Maul, who had sequestered himself behind boxes once more now much further into the hold. The guilt that followed your realization that he was hiding from you stung more than any blaster bolt would.

You were pulled from your misery by the sound of the force swirling and converging on one spot, ominous whispers and chants following where it went as a green mist started to fill the cargo hold. Mother Talzin, still stood at the end of the ramp was swirling her hands around a steadily forming glowing green ball of her magic. “Come,” she commanded, her voice taking on a higher reverb, “Let us fix what has been broken.” She calmly released the green ball and it glided over to Maul, bathing the cargo hold in an unsettling yellowish green as it went that had Wild clinging tighter to you as he poked his head around your waist to watch. Your hand fell to his shoulder, wrapping it in a tight grip as you followed the orb with your eyes. “Come to me.” Talzin continued. “Come to me, come to me.” The orb disappeared briefly as it weaved between crates, only trackable by the ominous green glow. “Come to me, lost one, come to me. Follow us, son of Dathomir. Follow me, lost one.Come, child of Dathomir. Follow me.” Talzin urged once more, the whispering and chanting echoing ominously back, till Maul finally began to listen. Originally shying away from the magic, he now followed it-shoving boxes aside and chasing after it like a child enchanted by an odd bug that flitted through the air.

You started to back up to give Maul more room and encouraged Wild to do the same with a hand on his shoulder. He rolled it and your hand fell away. It felt like someone had stabbed you through the chest. You froze completely, eyes glued to the half-zabrak who didn’t acknowledge you and instead kept his attention fixed on Maul as he followed Mother Talzin and Savage away.

The hangar fell silent. Neither of you moved.

You rolled your lips in, anxiously gnawing on them. You had to say something. “Wild…” you began in a soft voice.

“Don’t.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but it bombarded your ears like a barrage of blaster fire. “Just...don’t.” You had never heard your son sound more defeated.

“Alright.” You swallowed in an attempt to keep the tremble at bay. “Wild, are you okay?”

“...Yeah.” He lied and you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Force, you’d messed up. “Okay…” you began slowly, stalling on every syllable that left you, “what do you want?”

“...” Wild shifted but continued to stare at the opposing wall. You could hear the answer he wanted to give as it floated all around you, suspended by the anxieties of the both of you. Force, you’d messed up. The truth. It mocked you. Bouncing off of the walls and around your feet-all emanating from the only other person in the room. The truth, the truth, the truth. “A duel.”

The reply caught you off guard, Wild’s thoughts and true desires disappeared in an instant which returned the both of you to that deathly still cargo hold once more. “What?” You asked, taken aback.

Wild finally turned to face you, his little red face set in the most serious expression he could muster. To you it was the perfect cross between Maul’s scowl and your glare and you did not like being on the receiving end of it. That look was meant for strangers that were too nosy for their own good. That look was a defence you had taught him. That look was not supposed to be used against you. “You joked about training earlier and then you asked me what I wanted. Well, I want to duel as part of my training for today.” The young boy asserted with crossed arms.

You blinked, regarding your son uncertainly. Wild didn’t like to duel because he could never beat you and that always frustrated him and he’d get all huffy and sulk in the farthest place from you. “Alright…” you began. You continued to size Wild up. Your son had a plan and he was determined to box you in, that much you could tell, but what that plan was was unclear. The truth. That was his goal. And suddenly you knew what he was going to do. Both he and yourself knew that you were the most open about Maul when you were preoccupied. So, in theory, if Wild could distract you with a fight he could weasel more information out of you. A good plan but not one you’d go along with. “Here.” You tossed your blue lightsaber to the boy who scrambled to catch it. “Take up position.” You commanded, switching into your teaching voice-the one you had once used on younglings during your tenure as a padawan, the one Ki-Adi had used on you, the one you loathed to use on Wild. Following your own instructions, you ignited your lightsaber, green blade bathing the cargo hold in a complimenting glow, and dipped into a slight crouch. The hilt of the saber twirled elegantly in your hand-a practiced manuever Maul had helped you perfect so you could slip between forward and reverse grips with ease. Wild faltered. Evidently, he had been prepared to argue. But, your son reacted swiftly by correcting his face and mimicking your pose though he kept his saber in front of him pointing up. “I don’t need to repeat the rules-no contact, tap out when you need to, and nothing that could endanger either of our lives. It is crucial to be aware of all that is around you in a duel and a great way to practice is by following the rules laid out during training.” You quickly rambled off the same spiel you always repeated when you and Wild dueled. “If any real injuries occur, we end the duel immediately. Understood?”

“Understood.” Wild confirmed with a firm nod.

The game began. You kept your eyes trained on your son and remained still, your only motion the infrequent twirl of your lightsaber as you gave the boy the opportunity to make the first move. He was beginning to look more and more uncertain. Still, he took a step to the right-you took a step to the left. You took another step, he did as well and thus you both began to slowly circle each other. Wild shifted his grip, slipping into the opening stance for Form II and you mimicked him-your own legs taking on a wider stance as you brought your lightsaber slightly off to your side pointing up and held between both hands. Form IV, the form you’d adapted to survive. In your training you had always favored Form V, liking the way it offered both defense and offense, but after meeting Maul you’d started to favor IV. Wild, on the other hand, was a more defensive fighter (probably because he was younger) and he relied heavily on the basics and Form III. But he was nervous-he was vulnerable. And he wasn’t going to make the first move. Noble but potentially dangerous. You moved in.

You darted forward, lightsaber swinging for his left leg as it was the most exposed. Wild moved quickie and swung his blade down to block it and you fell back. Your son was too careful-too afraid of fighting to chase your strike. It was something you were working on-you’d forgone teaching him IV for now and opted to begin V for him to encourage the introduction of more offensive moves. It was a slow process.

Spotting another opening on his right, you moved in again. Wild reacted quicker this time and met the strike with enough time and force to push you back. Good. But that left him exposed to a kick to the ribs. You brought your leg up quickly and stopped just before you made contact. “Protect your vitals, Wild.” Was your simple instruction as you moved away before he could retaliate. You were moving quicker now, feinting to the right before swooping in for his left. And Wild was beginning to loosen up-reacting more sharply as he did so. But still, “Wild, loosen up. You’re far too tense for any effective combat.” You corrected with a well aimed poke with your index finger to his kidneys. It was an attack he would’ve been able to block had he spun in time. Wild whirled around to strike at you but you were too quick, already leaping over him to continue mock-striking his sides and other exposed vitals. Wild was growing frustrated. He spun on his heel faster than anything you'd seen from him this whole time and brought the blue lightsaber down. You met the strike. He moved to the right, you matched him. He moved his blade to the left, you twirled yours to meet the strike and pushed him back. A huff slipped from him as he recovered and came at you once more. You blocked it and quickly brought your leg up-attempting to “kick” him in the side again. He took one hand off of his blade to block the strike which was a critical mistake. You spun around swiftly and caught Wild’s blade once more and began to steadily force him to back up. Locked in a stalemate with you steadily placing more of your weight in the strike and Wild perpetually collapsing under it you made your next move carefully. You snapped up, removing your weight with a quick spin of your saber that had Wild’s wrist twisting back uncomfortably. He yelped and dropped the saber. You deactivated yours and stepped away while your son assessed his wrist. “Loosen your grip next time, it will help you maneuver the blade more fluidly which, in turn, will make a move like that much more difficult for your opponent to pull off.”

Wild muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, eyes trained on the fallen lightsaber as if he could make it combust with his mind. “Would you like to try again?” There was no verbal response from the young boy. He, instead, bent down and scooped the weapon up again-inspecting it as though he had never seen it before. He was silent for a few more seconds.

“When can I get my own lightsaber?” He finally asked and met your e/c eyes with his saffron ones. “Yours is too light. It feels like I’m holding nothing.” Too light. You knew Wild didn’t like using your blue saber-while it was the heavier of the two you weilded it was still built to be lightweight like your green one-though it wasn’t a complaint he voiced often. You shifted, your stoic, teaching oriented facade falling away for a moment. Wild was proving to be more and more like Maul as time progressed-he favored brute strength and speed despite being a defensive fighter. With a deep breath in you steadied yourself, mind flitting to the location of the lightsaber you had intended to give him-it would have been perfect for your son despite only being half of his father’s original weapon. You had rebalanced it (your pet project you used to lessen the ache in your chest when Maul’s “death” was a fresh wound). You made sure that the energy dispersion was adequate but the blade still deadly. You’d cleaned it and sealed the bottom up to remove the jagged edge left from when Kenobi sliced your love’s weapon. You’d restored it. But the kyber crystal was removed: taken out to avoid potential injury of you or your son should it decide to malfunction and placed in a hidden compartment in the bottom of your green saber.

“I told you-once I finish teaching you Form V, we’ll try and sneak onto Illum or somewhere else to find you a kyber crystal.” You informed placidly, keeping your eyes on your son. You filed away the knowledge of Maul’s saber for now. Wild grumbled under his breath again and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to try again?” You asked once more. He didn’t answer verbally, merely slipped into the opening stance for V this time. With an acknowledging nod, you readied your own weapon.

Wild struck first this time: darting forward with as much speed as he could muster. Instead of blocking it, you fell back and doubled around to strike at his back. But Wild had learned and fell forward causing you to stumble which gave him time to whirl around. He brought his saber down towards your leg but you blocked it. Instead of backing off like you thought he would, your son continued to press his weight down. “Good, Wild, good.” You commended in as warm a tone you could muster. “But watch your back leg because…” you spun out of the lock and mimicked his earlier strike though you stopped before you made contact. “If I was a real enemy, that would be the first thing to go for.” Wild didn’t acknowledge the instruction. He, instead, launched right into another volley of strikes. “Your wrist, sweetpea, use your wrist instead of your whole arm-it’s faster, more maneuverable, and it doesn’t take as much energy per strike.” You corrected again. There was a muttered complaint under his breath but he did correct his grip. You took the chance to lob your own series of strikes against your son. His blocking was a little sloppy but he had improved since the last time you sparred.

You were getting bored though. Without warning, you raised a hand and used the force to pull your son off balance. He hit the durasteel with a loud thump, the lightsaber clattering on the floor next to him. Almost immediately, he slammed his hands down and sat up to regard you with the most scathing scowl he could. “That’s cheating!” Wild shrieked at you.

You tilted your head and shrugged. “Your opponent will do whatever they can to gain the advantage-you must be prepared.” You explained placidly whilst inspecting the hilt of your lightsaber. “Again.” Returning your attention to the half-zabrak, you slipped into your opening stance once more. The young boy sighed exasperatedly and snatched up his fallen weapon. Your son was starting to get frustrated which told you it was almost time to take a break. “Once more and then we’ll stop.” Nothing. “Fair?” A low sigh and the igniting of the blade once more was his reply. This time, you didn’t wait for him to strike. You surged forward, aiming a strike for Wild’s neck at as slow a pace as you could manage. Wild met it and flicked you away but you were quick on the uptake and resumed. Another strike towards his leg, towards his arm, and his hip-each one deflected and reciprocated. Wild was getting better at tapping into V, relying less and less on the purely defensive tactics he always relied on. But, he was getting tired; his strikes were getting sloppy. You weren’t faring much better. A headache had formed-the two epicenters either side your skull. It was strange. There was a bizarre climbing sensation that accompanied it-like two hands clawing up either temple. You were very grateful that you decided this would be the last round as a quick nap seemed to be in order.

Wild was still on the offensive, attacking with all the strength he had but he was slowing down quick. Again, you raised your hand and pushed him away using the force. The boy sighed low in his throat-the sound bordering on a growl. But, his attacks resumed all the same. You repeated your own actions. “Stop.” The growl was more coherent this time. You both repeated. “I said stop that!” Wild snapped again, diving forward. You furrowed your brows and fell back to avoid the strike entirely. You raised your hand once more and Wild froze mid step, held in place by an invisible grip.

“Wild, are you alright?” You asked, teacher facade fading entirely as you sheathed your saber and took a step towards him. “We can call it quits if you’d like-!”

“Will you stop that?” Wild yelled and in his anger, he managed to escape your grip. The boy recovered quickly while you were left floundering, trying desperately to understand what was happening. But you weren’t fast enough. Wild set his face in a scowl, his eyes flickering a strange color for just a moment, and raised both of his hands and your back collided with the opposite wall.

You didn’t know what had happened. One minute, you and Obi Wan were stuck behind ray shields, helplessly watching the ensuing fight between Master Qui-Gon and your love, your husband, Maul, and the next, you were curling over Master Qui-Gon’s body in a fruitless attempt to urge him to cling to life while Obi Wan went for Maul. You knew what Maul was. You knew what he could do. But to see him do it?

You were trembling, eyes not straying from the two figures locked in combat. You didn’t know what you were feeling but there was a lot of it that caused an anxious swirling cyclone to manifest in the pit of your stomach. One hand curled around your barely formed bump-was that really the father of your child? The one that could kill without thought? No. You told yourself. No, that is not my Maul. That...that is Darth Maul. There was a sudden squeeze of your hand that momentarily distracted you from the fear now slowly consuming you. Qui-Gon was still fighting.

“Master Qui-Gon!” You exclaimed quietly, returning your attention to the dying man. “Master Qui-Gon, speak to me, please.” You begged the Jedi. Almost painfully, his eyelids fluttered open.

“O-Obi Wan? Where...where is Obi Wan?” He wheezed and looked around as best he could.

Tears pricked your eyes as you opened your mouth to answer. “Fighting Maul, maste-” You were cut off-your body suddenly airborne. You flew away from the fallen Jedi’s side until your back collided rather harshly with a durasteel wall on the opposite side of Qui-Gon. Pain ricocheted up your spine at the sensation as your eyes immediately tried to take in your sudden shift in surroundings. Your gaze settled on Maul and Obi Wan, the former stood with his hand outstretched towards you and his lightsaber at his side. There was an unreadable expression on his face that was dominated by concern. Rightfully so, you should think, from having practically flung you across the room. Still, it was clear that he hadn’t meant to launch you into the wall-a minor comfort in contrast to the dawning understanding that you had been so foolish. You were a traitor to your people. You were in love with a Sith.

“Mom! Mom, please! I-I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-to throw you. I was just, just angry and I don’t know what happened. Mom?” You were brought back to reality by the frantic shaking of your shoulders, the stinging in your lower back, and the throbbing of your head. Not to mention the downright terrified tremor in Wild’s voice. Your eyes flickered open. Panicked saffron met your unfocused e/c. “Mom!” Wild exclaimed and launched forward, arms wrapping around your neck.

“Sweetpea, what happened?” You kept your voice quiet as you returned your son’s panicked hug. It was a little awkward given your current seating against a box on the floor but you voiced no complaint.

The boy pulled back and your heart broke at the sight of tears gathering in his eyes. “I-I don’t know! I just...I just got really mad and-and I wanted to...I don’t even know what I wanted and I just was going to push you like you’d been doing but-but...I threw you and you weren’t waking up!” Wild explained in a shaky voice that you could barely understand, chest heaving with barely restrained distress.

Thinking quickly, you placed one hand on his shoulder and the other went to cup the side of his face. “Hey, look at me.” You commanded in a very soft voice and an imperceptible tug to focus your son on you. “I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You continued slowly, trying to convey that you weren’t angry or even injured. Sure, your back stung from the impact and it appeared as though it had triggered an unwanted trip back to an unpleasant memory but you knew it wasn’t Wild’s fault. “You did not hurt me, Wild.” You reassured once more whilst maintaining eye contact with the young boy. He sniffled and blinked and the gathered tears finally fell. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetpea.” You continued, now carefully wiping the tears away. Wild now refused to meet your eye but you pressed on. “And I don’t blame you. Accidents happen-I can’t tell you how many times I accidentally shoved your father when we’d spar.” He looked up at that and you sent him a smile, happy to see the curious glint replacing his previous sadness.

“Really?” He questioned in a tiny voice. You smiled a little wider-you knew you were somewhat playing into his original trap but this felt like a tidbit you could spare to tell.

“Yeah, he was always trying to teach me how to be more aggressive-in regards to dueling, mind you-and...I may or may not have gotten carried away a few times.” A wistful look darted across your face. “If he were here, he’d be embarrassed about how many trees I launched him into.”

“Trees?” Wild was brightening up now.

“Oh yes, we had a special planet we’d meet on-one far out of the Jedi’s range where we could just...be us. For a little while anyways.” You sighed. Us. “It was a beautiful planet, Wild, with lush forests and countless caves filled with glittering jewels. And the most gorgeous waterfalls I’d ever seen.” You could see it now, the planet you hadn’t dared to return to. You’d gone everywhere else alone and with Wild but that damned planet. “We met in the same spot every time-in the clearing where we’d met and we’d go running off to explore...we’d find a lake to spar next to and…” a giggle escaped you at a vague memory of Maul’s first reaction to swimming, “and I’d teach him to swim sometimes too.”

Wild laughed with you, more so out of shock that reminiscence. “He didn’t know how to swim?”

You shook your head. “He was from here, Wild. Dathomir’s not known for its swimming holes.” You explained with a comical lift of your eyebrows at the boy. “Anyways, in exchange I guess he’d teach me how to fight like him. And that meant I had to learn how to channel my anger. That meant I accidentally threw him a couple of times. It’s something you’ll learn too and if I must, I will gladly be your test dummy.” Wild huffed a laugh through his nose and you patted his face, pleased to see him calming down. You fell quiet for a moment as you observed the little lift of Wild’s smile and the scrunch of his nose that always followed a laugh. It was your smile on Maul’s face. Wild had Maul’s eye color but your eye shape. Your nose but the slight scrunch Maul would do when he spoke or smiled. He really was the perfect combination of you both even if your attributes were subtler. Wild was determined, intelligent, and protective. He was thoughtful but action-oriented as well. Calculated but not heartless. “Force, you’re so much like him.” You finally broke, not even aware that the thought had escaped you.

“Like who?” Wild asked with a slight tilt of his head-an action no doubt learned from you. Curiosity seemed to radiate from him but also an underlying keenness that told you he knew exactly who you were referring too. Clever-another one to add to the growing list.

“Your father, Wild...I...I wish he’d gotten to know you.”

“Y/n…” Maul seethed, his voice ringing in your ears though it was barely above a whisper as he stalked closer to you. His lightsaber...or rather half of his lightsaber still grasped in his hand.

You were running towards him despite the short gap between you and crashing into his chest before you knew it. “I know, Maul, I know.” Your voice was choppy, form shaky, as you wrapped your trembling arms around his torso. His hand fell on your shoulder-not quite returning the sudden embrace but gripping hard enough to make it clear he had you. “I know I shouldn’t have come-I should’ve run away as soon as that damn door opened. I’m sorry.” The zabrak was silent as his lightsaber hummed close to your ear. You continued to press your face into his robes, not acknowledging the heat close to your head. Eventually, Maul took a deep breath and released it in a sigh as he sheathed his weapon. His arms wrapped around you-one on your waist while his other brought his hand to the back of your head.

Maul pressed his face to your hair and you could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It’s alright, my light. I know.” The sound of him so gentle and understanding nearly brought you to your knees. This was your Maul-not whoever he was mere minutes ago as he battled your fellow padawan...Obi Wan...you didn’t dare let your mind dwell on the fate of him.

You held each other for a moment more, the world around you slipping away, until you became overtly aware of how your stomach brushed against his. Your baby...you had to tell him now. You pulled back till you could look him in the eyes, saffron surrounded by a ring of vermillion meeting with your e/c. “Maul, I have to tell you something.”

“He...he would’ve loved you.” You were ashamed of the way your voice broke at the admission. He would have loved Wild-that much you were certain of-if he he had gotten the chance to know him. But would either have that opportunity now? If Mother Talzin was successful in restoring Maul, would he be the same? You knew that you’d changed over the years-you’d had to for both your son’s and your own survival-but what would Maul be like? Your husband or the Sith Lord?...You supposed your distinguishing between the two the last time you’d described his father had not been unprecedented. With a deep breath in to steady yourself, you returned your attention to your son. “He would have taught you so much more. I wish you could meet him, Wild.” But...I don’t know if the Maul you meet will be the one I fell in love with.

“Mom, you...you don’t have to talk about Dad if it’s too painful.” Wild’s barely audible voice brought your attention back to the present.

“No....” Your voice was firmer than you’d expected it to be which took both you and your son aback. “No,” you tried again in a softer tone, “you...you deserve to know everything.” With a nervous swallow you continued. “Whatever you want to ask...I will answer.” There was no going back now. If the Maul that returned wasn’t the Maul you had known then maybe you could give Wild a chance to know his father through you.

Wild gaped at you for a few seconds, your offer not quite computing. “...Are...you’re serious?” He asked skeptically with wide eyes. “Actually serious?” Your only reply was a nod as you let your hands fall to your sides and you shifted to sit on your knees. He was quiet for a moment longer as the gears turned in his head-most likely searching for the right first question. “Where did Dad die?”

You swallowed again to stifle the panic. “...he...he didn’t.” Wild’s eyes widened a little further as shock overtook his face. “I...lost him on Naboo.” You scrambled to elaborate as your son fell completely silent. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. “I thought he died but...when Savage found us...he told me that he had been sent to find him. He wanted me to help locate your father. I told him that I watched him die on Naboo.”

“What was he doing on Naboo?” Wild finally spoke after another beat had passed.

“He was...helping enforce the blockade.” You knew you were being vague but Wild was going to draw his own conclusions soon.

“The blockade?” He emphasised, referring to the blockade you’d told him Darth Maul had overseen. “What...why?”

“His master had instructed him to.”

“His master? So...Darth...did Dad work with the Sith?”

He was getting closer, that was for sure. “...Yes.”

“Was...was Darth Maul his master?”

“...No.”

“Then...I don’t know what that means.” Wild admitted, retreating inwards to mull over the newly divulged information.

With another sigh, you closed your eyes in an internal debate of whether or not you provided him with what could possibly be the key clue your son needed. It was a short lived debate though. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” You began to recall the mantra Maul had often recited to you when teaching you how to channel your own anger. “Through passion, I gain strength.” Your eyes began to sting behind your eyelids as tears of your own began to form. “Through strength, I gain power.” There was a shift-not only in the cargo hold or between you and your son but it felt like a great power was being awoken all over the red bathed planet. “Through power, I gain victory.” It shifted again, growing stronger, angrier, darker. “Through victory, my chains are broken.” The chains...the chains are the easy part...it’s what goes on in here that’s hard. Those words-some of the first coherent thoughts to spill from Maul upon you and Savage finding him suddenly rang throughout your head. What went on in Maul’s head would certainly prove the most difficult part to understand, that you were certain of. It had taken you months to even get a read on his personality when you were young. It had taken months for him to accept his feelings for you and even longer for him to accept that you returned them. It had taken years for the two of you to decide that spending the rest of your lives together was the right course of action and months for the Force to grant you one physical piece of evidence to prove the validity of your relationship. The Force had given you Wild and the promise of a life with Maul...and almost all of it had been taken away in an instant. Your lives bound to the will of the Force by chains too thick to break. “The Force shall free me.” You opened your eyes and let your gaze fall on Wild. He was staring at you with a mixture of confusion and undeniable curiosity.

“What...what was that?” He asked in a tiny voice.

“The code of the Sith.” You answered immediately, the words falling freely from you now.

“Why do you know that…?”

“A Sith taught it to me.”

“Who?”

You blinked. He was so close to figuring it out. “I have only ever met one Sith, Wild.”

“...” He said nothing, his gaze moving away from you to gaze out of the cargo hold at the red bathed planet. Wild’s jaw was tense, his hands anxiously clenching into fists only to unclench a moment later, and his eyes frantically darted from side to side as though watching a battle before him. “What…,” he turned to you, “was Dad’s name?”

Finally. You closed your eyes once more to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come. You only spoke once you opened your eyes. “Mau-” A searing pain tore through your abdomen, cutting you off in an instant. Screams clawed from your throat at the sudden sensation that felt not unlike a heated knife being stuck into the flesh above your hips and around your torso. You fell to your side, hands snaking around your lower stomach.

“What is it, Y/n?” Maul questioned, picking up on the urgent tone in your voice immediately. His hands retracted from around you to take a firm hold on your forearms.

Unable to fight the smile that clawed itself over your face, you turned your hands over to also grasp his arms, anchoring both of you in that moment. “Maul, my love, I’m-” He stiffened, eyes locking on something above your head. With a harsh shove he sent you to the floor as his hand shot for his lightsaber.

It happened in a blur-a flash of green, a choked breath, and the worst pain you’d ever felt tearing its way across your lower abdomen. It was the worst moment of your life-your love and your connection to him being severed in one fell swoop from Obi Wan Kenobi. You didn’t know if you screamed or cried. You didn’t know if you did anything else besides watch as Maul fell away, lost to some unimportant reactor shaft on Naboo. A death so unbefitting a man of such power it almost felt poetic. Unjustly poetic. Was this some form of punishment? You knew you grabbed his lightsaber, clinging to it as you prayed for death to take you as well. If the Force should decree for you to suffer a fate worse than death than it would lose you to it as well.

But you were stopped. Two hands pulled you away, you were led back to the council to await a different fate unknown to you. The last touch of your love seared into your skin as was the pain of his fatal wound.

You opened your eyes, vaguely aware of the mutterings falling from you and the cold press on your forehead. There was a firm grip on your hand and a warm weight pressed into your side. “Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.” Your voice mixed with another’s graced your ears-the mantra of the Sith being repeated over and over as the pain in your abdomen began to fade till none remained. You sat up and immediately wrapped Wild in a hug. His muttering stopped to be replaced by yours. “Wild, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You kept repeating it as your son clung to you.

“What happened?” He gasped out, grip like iron as he latched onto your arms.

“Maul.” You brought him up to eye level. “Maul’s back.” You exclaimed, already able to feel the familiar turbulent presence of your husband. “He’s back.” You began to struggle to your feet, shaky and weak as they may be.

“Mom, calm down-you’re injured.” Wild tried to drag you back down but you pulled your hand away from him.

“No, I’m not. I’m fine. Wild, we need to go. Please. He’s back.” You tried, already doing your best to march out of the cargo hold.

“Mom, hold on. What are you talking about?”

“Maul. I told you. Come on!” You were insistent, being pulled out of the ship by that commanding presence.

“Not until you tell me what my dad’s name was!” You stopped short, realization dawning on you.

Before anything could be said, a clinking sound echoed in from outside the ship causing you both to freeze. Wild immediately dropped into a defensive position, calling your blue lightsaber to him. You closed your eyes again, trying to sense what was going on. Maul’s presence was overwhelming-it crashed into you like a wall of water freshly freed from a dam. His signature was one so powerful and tumultuous that you had had little else to liken it to over the years. Where your connection with Wild was quieter and warm, the one to Maul was fiery and deceptively silent, threatening to burn you if you held onto it for too long. Force, you’d missed it. You stepped forward, eyes flying open as you did so and focused on your own presence-trying to amplify it for Maul. You had to know if he was the same man. The clinking stopped. His signature changed-a blinding glow forming to accompany the wrathful haze that always surrounded him. The clinking resumed, faster now as Maul grew closer to the ship.

You broke out in a run, darting out of the ship before Wild’s startled cry could meet your ears and rounding around the wing of it. You stopped the same time the clinking did as before you stood a red zabrak, standing a little warily on his robotic legs, whose head was crowned with ivory horns and whose eyes burned with light brighter than any star. “Maul…” You breathed out.

He straightened up, confused scowl falling away, as he spoke with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. “My light…”

…………………………………………………..

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#darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #darth maul #clone wars #star wars: clone wars #tcw #darth maul x y/n #star wars

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staarshiine · 4 years

Text

Triplet Headcannons!

Its the middle of the night and I like thinking about them. A lot of these are based off me and my sisters btw

Sometimes Huey gets into a funk and can’t focus enough to read and process words, so he goes to Dewey to read his homework or a passage out loud (he always reads it dramatically, so it’s easier for Huey to catch the words)

Louie later helps Huey find a good text to speech reader for his tablet, but he still prefers his sibling’s voices

Louie doesn’t cut his hair often, he finds it too much work, so he just lets it grow out until someone with scissors wears him down

Dewey is the first to dye his hair, but he tries it by himself and it’s kind of a disaster, the blue coming out more greenish, and Lena has to help him out

Louie laughed at him for weeks and Huey just wonders why he didn’t wait for them to get home and help him

Huey is somehow immune to bad hat hair. This is exclusive only to him, if anyone else wears his hat their hair will be a mess by the end of the day

They run into each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night way too often. They mostly just nodd at eachother and keep doing what they planned to do

Dewey sometimes runs in circles to release excess energy and sometimes he gets up in the middle of the night to do this. He has the most late night run ins with the others because of this

Louie goes down to snack at night a lot, so he has the second highest number of run ins

Huey likes to always have a cup of water nearby at night (though he keeps it in a container to avoid spills) and regularly goes down to refill it

Once it was 2 am and he went down for water, and Dewey was in there running in circles around the island counter and Louie was shoveling a whole loaf of bread into his mouth in the dark

Sometimes everyone is busy so they don’t have a family dinner every night, so the kids all sit on the couch and watch a show together

This show is exclusively for together dinners and no one is allowed to watch ahead

Louie secretly watches ahead, but this is so no one catches him crying at the emotional scenes and avoid the embarrassing ones + he likes knowing how each episode ends

Huey knows he does this but doesn’t say anything as long as Louie doesn’t spoil it for the others

Huey also doesn’t watch a lot of tv, so the show they watch is usually the only one he’s emotionally invested in

Dewey makes a lot of jokes through each episode that encite a lot of groans

Before they settled on an order, they used to rotate bunk positions every night

Louie used to kick in his sleep so he was banished to the bottom bunk

When they were small they sometimes slept in the same bed and played games until Donald caught them giggling

They used to play this game where they would roll themselves in blankets and then roll into and over each other but Donald banned it when he caught them one night

Eventually they got too big for that game and realized later on how weird it kind of was

Huey sometimes marks his stuff with stickers, and he still has a collection of them

Louie likes his cat sticker pack the best

Dewey likes all aspects of theater, not just the singing and acting part. If asked he can go in depth about the tech aspect of shows

He talks a lot about wanting to use some of the techniques on Dewey Dew Night

Huey gets emotionally attached to things very easily, especially pets

Huey once got really fed up with his brothers when they were eating out, and threatened to pour his water into their soda to dilute it if they didn’t stop

It was incredibly effective. He still uses the threat to this day

Louie loves head pats and scratches but Huey hates them, it feels patronizing

Dewey doesn’t really care either way, but he’s the best at giving them out

Huey tries VERY HARD but he’s not that good at baking, and surprisingly it’s Dewey who steps in and helps him earn that badge

Louie tried but he hated mixing, it made his arm way too tired

Huey not being able to make sweets on his own was probably a good thing

They have to hide the halloween candy because while Huey usually knows not to eat sugar at night, if he has one piece he instantly craves another, and the cravings can last from an hour to multiple days

Dewey tries a lot of things and drops them just as often, so he has a lot of random skills (ex: baking)

#ducktales #cal rambles #ducktales 2017 #headcannons #long post #PLEASE NOTE THAG LIKE 90% OF THESE ARE FROM MY SISTERS AND I RJABAKD #there’s a lack of Webby just bc I’m not very good at coming up with hcs without an irl equivalent #I still think it’s funny how similar my sisters and I are to the triplets #ppl used to think we were triplets all the time as kids #even the age order fits nicely somehow #I have a lot to say abt sharing a triple bunk with three other ppl btw #man the late night conversations born out of that room

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laufire · 3 years

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RNM 3x04

Although I’m enjoying the season so far, I gotta say, the episodes feel super disconnected, this one most of all. I blame the fact that Liz (THE LEAD) and Rosa still aren’t participating in the main fucking plot :)))

I’m still extremely wary of Rosa’s storyline. I think it makes sense for the character, and that *for now* they’re keeping it in line with it being more about Rosa proyecting/exorcising her issues than about Wyatt Long’s manpain, but. I’m eyeing it. And I really want her to be more involved in the main plot/do more stuff. Now that Kyle is in peril and Long is leaving town (which made me wonder whether he’ll become a suspect, actually), I hope that’s where she’s headed. I loved her art (it always has so much personality in it, I love how they do it) and her quote about people changing and becoming who they want to be.

I feel that with this storyline I’m doing a reverse of my usual “things I roll with in fiction but wouldn’t stand for irl” LOL. Because if I was in Rosa’s shoes I WOULD try to deradicalize someone like Long -and there’s no shortage of people like Long in my hometown, so I’m not just talking out of my ass here-, less for him and more as harm reduction and for my own morals. But this could derail Rosa’s storyline in really annoying ways. And I REALLY don’t trust this show’s track record with race. On top of that, a lot of the discourse around redemption arcs~ conveniently omits the fact that only white male characters are pressumed to get them after they commit horrible acts. Why can’t Flint, a MoC, be the one to get a redemption arc instead, for example? It could’ve been painfully easy to switch their storylines, and it could’ve been interesting since Rosa actually disliked him in high school. But the show suddenly decided to care for Long’s inner life. Because white characters (and people) are afforded more complexity by others, more good faith.

I’m not TOO worried about Kyle because it feels too early in the season to fully close that plot. But if they killed him I don’t know that I could continue with the show. I adore Rosa, but her storyline isn’t grabbing me; and I dig Michael’s family drama with Nora and the dictator, but they’re not as ~dear to me. Kyle this season was the one reuniting it all. And they can’t kill him before we figure out everything with the communicator and his father!! C’mon. Anyway. I did love him this episode, helping out; and his scenes with Michael (my rareship is sailing! xDD) were great, from their bitchiness with the radio to their perspectives during their argument. The moment Michael pushes him to take cover and then removes Kyle’s hand from his shoulder asldkfjaf. This fandom is weak for not writing me multiple pages of this rareship, js.

Speaking of rareships sailing LOL, I can’t believe after my joke post about Bert x Kyle I got a mini scene asdlfjasdf, where Bert talks to Kyle and pays a compliment to his mother. I’ve also said since then that I wanted more Bert in the show, but frankly, I wish it was for more alien/conspiracy/fun stuff (like his artisanal beer or his werewolf obsession! or get into the main alien plot!), and not an Issue Storyline that I don’t even trust the show to handle properly.

Maria and Isobel’s vision quest was fun, although I resent the fact that the Liz we saw for half the episode was a fake (seriously, BRING HER TO THE DAMN MAIN PLOT ALREADY). I don’t care much for the two of them bonding, tbh, but if it’s what Maria wants, so be it. And her moments with Kyle this season have made me more lenient towards Isobel, at least. I’m also curious about some of the elements in the quest: the first things Maria sees are Michael sitting in her bar and Rosa painting her table <33. Bert is around being attacked by racists. I also dig that either/both of them pictured Kyle in his doctor getup (with the radio).

Wrt the vision itself, I’m still on denial about the dead being Kyle lol. I’ve heard all the theories: fake death to hide the aliens (I hope that can get solved because if Kyle couldn’t for some reason continue his career in medice it would CRUSH him), and his mother (please don’t) seem the most likely options after this episode. Others are Sanders (for the hints in last week’s) or even Arturo (for Rosa and Liz’s reactions, although obviously the “Valenti” crest wouldn’t make sense there). I also don’t see how it makes sense to cover Kyle’s death if Logan killed him? Unless Max tries to heal him and leaves a handprint. Anyway, I hope none of the above die and it can be resolved. And BTW: the SPN war flashbacks I’ve witnessed in the tags with the “killing” method are. Something. I think RNM still kept the scene dramatic and the audience concerned, but man. The risk of that reference... I don’t know that it was worth it lol.

BRING LIZ TO THE MAIN STORYLINE FFS. I like what we see of her on LA in abstract, but in practice... she’s the lead ffs. One episode where she’s out and having a nice time dancing (those scenes were lovely, admittedly) like this one can be great, but after three episodes where she’s been so removed of it all? Nuh huh. Given recent events (Kyle’s attack, the handprint on her chest reacting, her resignation) I hope it changes soon. And I hope Heath can be taken at face value, because I don’t trust this show’s track record with MoC that could inconvenience its storylines (see Noah and Diego, or even Flint). Also, I LOLED at her dream in the beginning, with her imagining Max apologizing to her and expressing her own concerns about getting lost in their relationship lmfao (as if that would ever cross his mind xD).

His scenes with Kyle seem designed to get Michael out of his funk wrt his heritage, and I appreciate it (especially if it’s THIS, and not the useless or even counterproductive pep talks of anyone else Michael cares more about that does the trick lol). I’m still eagerly awaiting for development on this front. Related to that, I’ve seen the theories about Jones being his father, but. Eh. It’s not that I don’t see how it could be possible (he’s incredibly powerful and can make fire), but. To put it bluntly? I don’t think the actor can pull off what I want from the Dictator. I want someone charismatic, and preferably visibly older than Michael that actually looks like his father. Jones would be a terrible miscast on both accounts. If they bring someone else JUST for Michael it could also be a sign of him really taking over the storyline (which I’m still iffy about because of my other faves, but it’s an interesting way to see where the show is headed).

I feel they could have taken Jones to more interesting places but there’s still time. The good news is that he shaved his godawful beard AND saved a dog’s life lol. Also, am I the only one that thought he might’ve known Noah, when he grabbed his and Isobel’s picture? I’m curious about that.

#roswell: new mexico #roswell thoughts #rosa ortecho #wyatt long #flint manes #kyle valenti #guerenti #rnm bert #bert x kyle #maria deluca #isobel evans #liz ortecho #michael guerin #the dictator #mr. jones #my thoughts #talking to the void #roswell spoilers #rnm spoilers

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jumbojamba47 · 4 years

Text

Guest Room

A/N: This is my very first fanfic and I really don't know what possessed me to write it. I was listening to this song https://open.spotify.com/track/4RzHA75rhs3mXnoI4aJSMt?si=sSeaV0zAQgGuteRzEOiZJw and the idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and well... desperate times, desperate measures. Taking things into my own hands and all that jazz. I highly recommend giving the song a listen while reading. I hurt my own feelings writing this. I wrote this from a female perspective but it can be read as gender neutral. (image not mine)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Slight Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Stucky

Warnings:18+, Angst, NSFW-ish, Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Unedited

Word Count: 3680

A sharp gasp fills the air as heated skin meets cold tile. Slender fingers curl and uncurl; tugging at your scalp from above. Your name reverently whispered through kiss-swollen lips as if in prayer. Muffled grunts and moans escape from clenched teeth as though afraid that any louder sound might halt your ministrations. Rivulets of water, long-since gone cold, rush down your bodies, pooling where you knelt in worship of the red-headed angel in front of you. Despite the ache in your limbs and your own needs screaming for attention, you remained steadfast in your determination to push Natasha over the edge as many times as you were able. You knew, these private moments of intimacy were the closest you could ever get to keeping the elusive beauty in your arms tethered to you.

It all started with a mission in Bogotá. The two of you had completed the objective but had to wait for extraction overnight in a safehouse with one master room and a smaller guestroom.

“You can go ahead and have the bigger room (y/n/n). Odin knows you did most of the heavy lifting this time around,” she said with a chuckle as she stepped into the guest room.

“There’s a big enough bed, you could always join me Romanoff,” you joked with a wink.

Later that night you were unwinding in bed when you heard a knock on your door.

“Coming!” You yelled, pulling the door open.

“Need someth-” your eyes widened as you felt soft lips meld against your own.

She pulled away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, bewildered.

“Taking you up on your offer,” she pushes you towards the bed with a cheeky grin.

That was 6 months ago. Since then, you felt a subtle shift in your relationship with Natasha. Whilst around the others her interactions with you drifted towards a platonic aloofness that, while not cold, alluded to nothing of the times you found yourself unceremoniously shoved into a supply closet or pressed into a locked conference room door; always faced with an eager red-head ready to pick up where you last left off. Each time, your hidden trysts end just as quickly as they begin with Natasha immediately straightening her appearance and slipping out the door as soon as she made sure the coast was clear. Each time, you felt your heart crack a little more as you felt the phantom weight of her lithe body in your arms as you stood alone watching her quick movements.

Now you find yourself kneeling on the floor of the assassin’s shower after she dragged you in following a heavy morning training session. Your hands grip the back of toned thighs as the burning in Natasha’s core reaches its crescendo.

Through the open door leading into her bedroom, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice ring out, “Mr. Stark is requesting your presence to go over tonight’s details in 30 minutes, Ms. Romanoff.”

Breathless, chest heaving, she responds, “I’ll be there.”

Rising from the floor, your arms circle around her to reach for the removable showerhead while steadily supporting the still shuddering woman. You gently maneuver the water to rinse away the last of the soap and lingering fluids from both your bodies. It was only in these quiet moments after a rendezvous in a more private setting that Natasha allowed you to indulge in your more tender proclivities without protest as she settles down from her high. You shut the water off before swiftly stepping out and wrapping a towel around your body. You grab a secondary towel and take more care in drying off Natasha’s body, pressing into her skin ensuring you gently knead her sore muscles with firm hands as you go. Once satisfied, you wrap her body snugly, bring your arms around her back and beneath her legs and carry her into her room, lightly setting her on the edge of her bed before moving to her closet. Turning your head slightly to ask what she’d like to wear, you think you see a flicker of something soft in her eyes, but, just as quickly, it’s gone only to be replaced by a teasing smirk as her eyes trail up and down your towel-clad form.

“Keep treating me like this and I might just have to make you mine,” she husks out.

“I wish you would…,” you mumble under your breath. But the assassin catches it and lets out a sigh. She stands and smoothly pads closer to you laying a hand on your shoulder.

“You know I can’t.”

“I really don’t.”

She steps away from you. Her hand drops to her side as she moves to rummage in her closet. You move to grab your own day clothes from your discarded gym bag. Dropping the towel to pull on a matching set of black lace undergarments, she turns to you. And fuck, it’s not fair of her to stand there underdressed as she is when you want to have a serious conversation with her.

“This?” her finger points between you and her, “is just casual sex. We’re scratching an itch and it can’t be more than that.”

“But why not?” you ask as your pull on your shirt.

“Why are you so afraid to give us a try?”

She slams her drawer shut. “I’m not afraid of anything!” she growls.

“You? Me? We’re nothing. There is nothing to try. You’re a good fuck (y/l/n) but that’s all this can be. If you’re not satisfied with that then tough shit, I’m sorry.”

Jaw clenched; you look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” you grit out.

You grip your bag tightly and exit the room without looking back. Carelessly, you toss your bag into your room down the hall without breaking your stride. Pausing at the end of the hallway, “Shit,” you exhale under your breath, running a hand down your face.

You make your way into the common room only to find Steve and Bucky staring at the large flat screen in confusion, a cartoon depiction of a sea sponge competing with a starfish, seemingly attempting to win the affections of his grandmother? Or was that an anthropomorphic cookie? With a heavy sigh you plop yourself down on the couch between them, kicking your legs up onto Steve’s lap and laying your head in Bucky’s. Cool metal fingertips softly run along your temples in a soothing massage as both men turn to you in mildly concerned curiosity.

Upon release from Shuri’s custody, Bucky found himself immediately accosted by you and your self-appointment as the one in charge of his rehabilitation into polite society. Refusing to leave his side outside of mandatory missions, Steve, by default, wound up lumped into your “educational excursions” and “lessons in everything a modern person of refined taste-no-fuck-you-Tony-your-opinion-doesn’t-count-you-raised-yourself-on-a-steady-diet-of-debauchery-and-sin would enjoy”. The prolonged exposure to your generally sunny disposition led to both men silently agreeing to adopt you under their wing; and so, your Brooklyn Boys became fiercely protective over you, often drawing comparisons of co-parenting mother hens hovering over their tiny chick from your amused teammates.

“Why the sigh, malen’kiy d’yavol?” grunts Bucky.

You stare blankly at the ceiling as Steve gently rubs circles around your ankle with his thumb. Turning your head to bury your face into the ex-soldier’s warm stomach, a muffled “Am I unlovable?” leaves your mouth in a broken whisper.

Your quiet words are picked up by their enhanced hearing and they share quick perturbed glances. Bucky moves his arm under you, pulling you into his lap, drawing you close, ensuring your head is tucked securely into his neck just below his chin. Steve moves with him so he can maintain a comforting hold on your legs over his.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you doll. If anyone is worthy of love it’s you,” Steve tells you with confidence.

“I’m gonna kill Romanoff,” you hear Bucky grumble under his breath to Steve, thinking you couldn’t hear him.

Your fingers clench around the pocket of Bucky’s sweater. Your boys knew. Of course they did. You couldn’t hide your affection for the Black Widow from them if you tried. While the others might be able to write off your attention to the stunning Venus as simple admiration for a fellow teammate, they knew just how deeply your true feelings ran.

“Then why doesn’t she want me?” Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

Steve exhales slowly and looks back to the screen in front of him.

“No one really knows what’s going on in that head of hers, but your happiness is our priority right now. You deserve the world and if she can’t see that then that’s her loss,” he nudges his boyfriend.

Arms tightening around you, Bucky nods his head in agreement.

“The old man is right. How about the three of us go take your mind off things?” Slowly standing, he pulls you up to your feet.

“You can help me find Steve an outfit for tonight. I’m sure with a little convincing, we can get the Star-spangled Man with a Plan to wear a patriotic tie the whole night.” He winks at you as you let out a small snort.

“Go ahead. Laugh it up. One of these days you’re going to need to know something about war bonds and we’ll see who’s laughing then,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes.

xxxx

Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you adjusted the sleeveless button-up with detached cuffs, leaving enough buttons undone to reveal a plunging neckline, before tucking it into your high-waisted form-fitting black pants. In a bid to pull yourself out of your funk, you decided to go all out for tonight’s festivities. You slip on a pair of black shoes, give your outfit one final check, nodding to yourself, and make your way out the door.

Tonight, Tony saw fit to throw a good luck party for your first long-term recon mission with you leading your own team before you left the next morning. As you made your way to the large gathering you steeled yourself for the impending emotions that would inevitably hit you as soon as you saw the face that had been plaguing your dreams nearly every night since that fateful mission.

“Eyes up, (y/l/n). You’re made of stronger stuff than this. If she doesn’t want you then don’t waste your time. You’re worth more than this,” you say to yourself as you stride towards the double doors.

You straighten your shoulders, draw yourself up to your full height, and confidently step into the gathering.

“There she is! The hero of the hour! Give it up for our very own (y/hero/n).” Tony struts towards you; your favorite drink already outstretched in his hand.

He claps you in the back and slings an arm over your shoulders leading you towards the crowd as you hear cheers from the party goers in attendance.

“Soak it up buttercup. All this is for you. Feels good doesn’t it?”

Your eyes drift to the side where you see Natasha in a black cocktail dress flirting with another attendee, her eyes glance at you before turning her attention back to her companion. You swallow the sharp sting of pain threatening to rise and mentally give yourself a shake.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time Tony, let’s party!” you exclaim with more enthusiasm than you can bring yourself to feel.

He gives you his biggest grin, “Now that’s what I like to hear!”

He steers you through the crowd, you both pause to greet various members of the party as you recognize your friends and coworkers before leading you to Steve and Bucky who are seated on a pair of loungers across from Wanda and Rhodey.

“Hey Mama Bear, Papa Bear, here’s little Baby Bear. Make sure you keep an eye on them. I saw more than a few vultures in the crowd who looked ready to steal them away at a moment’s notice.” He sauntered away with a wink.

“Looking good dollface,” Steve grins at you.

Bucky and Rhodey are quick to agree. Across the way you see Wanda raking her eyes up and down your body with hooded lids. Making eye contact, you wink, she blushes at being caught before sending you a shy smile.

As the night goes on and drinks are consumed, you continue to laugh with your friends. You’ve moved to the opposite couch next to Wanda as Rhodey takes up the space in the middle of your group to reenact the night Tony, black out drunk, stumbled into the RA’s room instead of their shared dorm back in college.

Unable to hold yourselves up from laughing so hard, you and Wanda lean into each other for support.

Suddenly the main light dim and colorful strobe lights fill the room. You feel a heavy bass begin the thump through your chest and a drunken Wanda yells, “I LOVE THIS SONG!” She leans into your side and whispers “come dance with me,” into your ear.

Grinning widely, you nod your head and let yourself be pulled up and led to the dance floor amid cheers and wolf whistles from your friends. Immediately spinning around, Wanda presses her backside against your front, slowly dragging her hands up and into your hair. You lean forward, your hands finding a comfortable grip on her hips, pulling her closer, guiding her movements.

Across the room, Natasha watches you grind together, her jaw clenches. She throws back another shot. Behind the bar, Clint shifts his eyes from her angry form to you.

“You know, if you really like them that much you might want to head over there and stake your claim.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tasha. I’d like to think I know you better than most.”

She gives him a quirk of an eyebrow and her best side-eye.

“Okay so I may have been crawling through the vents when I saw you all but crawling up their body like it’s a ladder in Conference Room A,” he huffs out with a roll of his eyes.

She stiffens.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think it does. Now, I don’t know why you’re trying to pretend like I don’t catch you staring at them whenever you think no one else is looking. But are you going to go over there and get what’s yours or are you just going to sit here and watch them fall into the arms of someone else?”

“They’re not my anything,” she mumbles into her glass, “They’re a big kid. They can decide to screw whoever They want.”

Clint shakes his head but says nothing more. They both watch as Wanda turns in your arms, wrapping her own around your neck, slotting her leg between yours, drawing even closer. Growing bold, she begins to press kisses along your neck leading up to your ear. You tilt your head back giving her further access as you continue to move to the rhythm.

“You know, she’s assigned to go on that mission with (y/n). With an undetermined timeline, who knows how long she’ll have to make (y/n) her-”

With a loud clink, Natasha throws back her last shot and slams it down on the countertop. Without giving Clint a chance to finish his sentence, Natasha finds herself pushing through the crowd towards you and Wanda. She’s a woman on a mission as she wraps her hand around your arm pulling you from Wanda’s grasp and without looking back, she drags you towards her room. She ignores your protests as she kicks her door open before pushing you against the wall and pressing her lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Stunned, your lips move against hers before your alcohol addled brain catches up to what’s happening. Your hands find her shoulders as you gently push her away and make space between the two of you. Confusion clouds your features as she hungrily stares at you while hastily slipping down the straps of her dress.

“Nat? What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” she growls, before attacking your lips again.

“No,” comes out of your mouth in a muffled groan. You push her away harder this time.

“What the hell are you doing?” You stare at her incredulously.

“I’m trying to have a little fun before you take off. What? Are you waiting for a formal invitation?”

You scoff in disbelief. “No. No no no. I’m not doing this with you Natasha.”

“Doing what?” She stares at you with furrowed brows.

“This! This fucked up charade of you claiming you don’t have any feelings for me!”

“I don’t! We’re just friends who like to have a little fun sometimes, (y/n/n).”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think I’m stupid or are you just blind?! Friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you! Friends don’t get jealous when they see their “friend” with someone else then proceed to drag them away to stake their claim!” You’re beyond angry. Sick of feeling like a yoyo constantly tugged up and down and thrown away in boredom.

“Well what do you want me to say?”

“TELL ME I MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU! TELL ME THAT EVERY MINUTE I SPEND PRAYING TO ANYONE WHO’LL HEAR ME FOR EVEN AN IOTA OF YOUR AFFECTION ISN’T A WASTE OF BREATH!” Tears are streaming down your face. You bite back a sob as you draw your arms around yourself in a protective hold.

“Tell me you feel the same way I do,” you whisper as your voice cracks.

Tears in her own eyes, “I can’t,” Natasha exhales without making eye contact.

Slowly, you nod.

“Okay.”

Your eyes trace over her face one last time.

You turn and as she hears your footsteps head towards the door, her head snaps up.

“Where are you going?” She rushes out with hesitation coating her voice.

“I’m leaving.”

She reaches out a hand, but you step away.

Undeterred, “No, stay we can still talk things out as friends.” She implores.

Coldly, you make eye contact.

“You made it perfectly clear this morning, Natasha. We’re nothing.”

She chokes on a whimper.

With a stiff nod you exit her room and with a slam of her door, you’re gone.

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha drops to her knees.

xxxx

You head down the hall angrily wiping the tears away from your eyes. You refuse to spare any more of your heart for someone who clearly couldn’t care less whether or not it breaks.

Trying to hold on to Natasha feels like attempting to cup smoke in your bare hands. A fruitless endeavor. You were never one to bet on a losing game.

You swing your door open only to be met with Steve and Bucky grinning and ready to help you pack for your mission and rib on you about your impending time with Wanda.

Their smiles immediately drop when they take in your tear-stained face. Both men rush to your side and draw you into their arms, holding you between them. Your boys could feel their hearts shatter as they listened to your broken stops. If the sound of your cries could hurt them this much, they couldn’t fathom how you yourself were feeling.

“We’re here, Kroshka, what do you need?”

You whimpered and buried yourself further into their hold.

“That’s enough,” you sniffled.

After a moment, you pulled away drawing yourself together.

“I’m done with her,” you state.

They both nod.

“When you’re back, we’ll make sure you never have to be alone with her again,” Steve asserts with a nod of finality.

You send them both a grateful look as they begin to help you gather everything you’ll need to last at least 2 months.

xxxx

It’s early morning when Clint finds Natasha in the gym Sweat drips down from her hairline as she takes out every emotion she refuses to acknowledge on the innocent training dummy.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the hangar sending off your new boo with a kiss?”

“Not my anything,” she grunts, punctuated with a roundhouse kick to the dummy’s jugular.

“You literally pulled a scene from a rom-com out of your ass, dragging (y/l/n) away from their own party AND your rival in love, and they’re STILL not yours?” He levels her with his most disapproving, disappointed dad stare.

“Fuck off Clint, I’m not in the mood.”

“Well a little birdy told me that Wanda is extra excited for this chance to ask (y/n) on a proper date after they’re back”

“Not my problem. If they want to open their legs to the first person that offers, let them.”

“Wow. Harsh. What happened?”

She delivered a sharp jab to the dummy’s solar plexus.

“They said we’re nothing.”

“That couldn’t have come from nowhere.”

She pauses her movements and looks away.

“I told them we’re nothing.”

“Nat…”

“They deserve better, Clint,” her voice wobbles.

“You deserve happiness too Tasha. You deserve them.” He pulls her into a tight hug.

Her eyes clench shut attempting to keep her tears at bay.

“I fucked up… didn’t I?”

“Yeah… you really did,” he looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“Quinjet leaves in 5. If you hurry you should still be able to catch them.

She immediately takes off and he watches the door swing shut behind her.

“Go get ‘em, kid. We’re rooting for ya.”

xxxx

Almost running past the hangar doors, Natasha skids to a stop and pushes her way into the room.

She ignores the technicians yelling for her to clear the runway as she breaks into a sprint towards where she hears the sound of supplies being loaded onto a quinjet.

With an energy boost fueled by a fear she never knew she could feel, she speeds around the corner, drawing in a breath ready to scream your name.

Only to come to a stop.

She’s too late.

The jet pushes off the ground for takeoff.

She falls to her knees.

A broken whimper escapes her lips.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #nr angst

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