#i do what i can but its taking a lot of time

[softness-and-shattering]

Almost like a chronic issue, of something that sounds lile fatigue, couldnt possibly be chronic fatigue, right?

❤

Theres no such thing as 'real' and 'fake' disabled people, theres no test to pass. Sometimes it takes a lot of tests and time and just finding a dr who will listen to get things close to diagnosed. Youre not faking until someone gives you the stamp of approval, only you truly know what youre experiencing, you are the arbiter of your own truth.

If you have a condition or conditions, named or not, diagnosed or not, understood or not, that negatively impacts your life, then you can call yourself disabled. Welcome to the community. Whatever disability resources you can find and access are for you, use them, dont be shy about it. Try not to let community members gatekeep you. Gov and orgs etc usually will, which sucks, thays their problem, doesnt make you a faker, doesnt make you less needful or less deserving, it just makes them gatekeepers.

Theres always some amount of internalised ableism to work through, other peoples voices telling you to stop being lazy etc. And its super scary sometimes to realise 'oh shit im disabled'. Sometimes its also super freeing; theres a real reason youre struggling even if you dont know the specifics yet; and once youve accepted that you can adjust your standards, you can justify doing less, paying/asking others to do more, taking advantage of shortcuts, half- or quarter-assing things. Youre disabled. There is plenty of good life worth living. Theres also hardship but you know that already. Let yourself be.

With chronic fatigue especially, you wanna take it really easy, work out how much you can do and do not push yourself, stay well clear of your limits and I mean well clear. You might want to be seeing an exercise physiologist, maybe an OT, go from there. Thr other name for chronic fatigue is ME, or Myalgic Encephalomyalitis, if Ive spelled that correctly. Also id suggest a blood test for your vitamin levels and um thyroid functiom, and maybe some kind of sleep study? Multiple things can cause fatigue so best to try cover your bases. Possibly also allergens?

Tldr: if you want to call.yourself disabled you 100% have the right to. Its a community label not a diagnosis, a lot more people could claim it than do. If you want in, youre in. There is knowledge and resources that can help. Your experience is real. You are not alone. ❤

Well obviously I can’t have chronic fatigue, that’s a real problem for real disabled people that’s diagnosed by doctors probably. Clearly I just have some sort of perpetual exhaustion issue, that is also almost certainly my fault somehow

[fishnapple]

How will they protect the relationship

(lover/partner/future spouse) - Channelled message

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

Sometimes, I fear that you will get used to our relationship to the point of boredom, that our relationship will become just a habit, a routine that you do everyday, mechanically, without enthusiasm or passion. That fear crept in my mind, taking roots, and there will be moments when I let it grow and poke its branches out. Imaginary scenarios swirl in my mind, threatening to spiral out of control.

But I will snap out of it in no time. I'm a master at bringing myself out of the dark, I'm a good runner, running in the night long enough, and you're bound to see the sun rise again. I will try to look at myself first, from an objective lens, to find where I can change, what baggage I need to get rid of. Then I will look at our relationship, I will find a way to lift it up, make it exciting again. Do you like puzzles? Do you like sculpting? Would you like to try a new recipe? Let's forget for a moment all our adult responsibilities and be free. To be excited teenagers again, falling in love for the first time again. I will write you love letters full of typos, sending you half-baked cakes and cringy T-shirts, you will laugh and you will join me.

I do notice that there are some people around us, people who shouldn't come that close, who shouldn't be there at all. They don't understand the concept of respecting other people's boundaries. They will try to turn a blind eye to our commitment, pretend that it doesn't exist. Blatantly coming in without knocking, thinking that they can just take you away from me and me from you. They think that their tactics are subtle enough, that in time, they can corrode our bond. Little touches here and there, the gaze, the "innocent" banters. I can see them all, I will try to put a distance between me and them, so I hope you will do that too, I also hope that you will patiently listen to me when I warn you of those people. Yes, sometimes you will have to call me a possessive person. I just want to shut out everyone dare to threaten us, to find a place where only us exist. But that's impossible, I know, so the best I can do is tell them off as clear as possible, trying to show that we're together, there's no space between us. Let them be jealous, we just need to focus on us and walk away, hand in hand.

GROUP 2

I know we have a lot of unspoken words stuck inside. The silence between can sometimes grow to such a suffocating weight, pushing us down, deeper and deeper into our own abyss.

We both will be so uncertain of our future together, where will we go, is there a place strong enough to shelter us, are we strong enough? We hope for the same things, we are so alike, even our fears are alike, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this.

Our bond will be tested numerous times. There will be a time when we've almost given up, but fate or whatever higher powers are at play here, will bring us back together, anew and ready to try again. I wasn't a spiritual person, but by being with you, being in this relationship, I began to believe in something intangible, in the unknown, it scared me, but all I can do is to move forward, with you, and that's where our fears begin. We move forward together, into the unknown future that holds no concrete promise.

Then I realised we've forgotten to remember where we've put our wishes in, what we've wished for. If we can just remember, then there's no point in worrying. I will give you a hint: it's a wish that spans from the past to the future. We felt like we've known each other for a long time when we first met, and I believe we will be in each other's lives for the far future to see. That belief alone is enough for me to feel brave. And I will sit down, take out my pens and notebook, and begin to scribble down the plan, the path for us, give voice to the stuck words inside, air them out. I will show you that plan and tell you to not worry about the future, instead just focus on this current life in front of us, we got this, believe in us.

GROUP 3

Sometimes, I think that we are two pieces of puzzles fit perfectly together. If not, then there's no way to explain how you have everything I lack, and I, in turn, have an abundance of things that you don't. We have our fair share of issues that alone, we seem to lack the strength to tackle them, but together, they seem so silly and easy. You can be the wind and I will be the pipes, you can be the water and I will be the pump. Now that sounds silly, but you get my gist. There will be times when you cry, I will be there, holding you close and being the cool headed one to make logical decisions. There will be times when I'm so down, you will be there, holding me close and being the soft pillow that raises my head up.

There will be problems, from inside and outside, but I believe we can weather them all. The problems will mainly come from the place of insecurities and misunderstanding. People's words can be cutting and unintentionally hurtful, sometimes intentionally. They sow the seeds of doubts inside our minds. But let's believe in the visions of ourselves and of each other. We see ourselves best. We will sit down, talk it all out, there's no barrier between us. I'm proud of our direct and open way of communicating. I can always count on us to be rational and discuss things until we can reach a solution. Yes, there might be tears and angry voices here and there, but they are the minority and will go away quickly. We're too sure of our commitment and ourselves to let those bother us for too long.

Whatever action needed to be taken, it would be taken swiftly. If it's required of me to be cutting something, somebody out of our life, I will do it, no hesitation. Because I trust in our judgement. And if it's required to move, I will move. I'm afraid distance will be our biggest hurdle. But we will find a way to be closer. Many things will need to be changed, our jobs, our homes. But we won't fear changes. Because changes will bring us to a better future.

GROUP 4

I want to prepare you beforehand, our relationship will be scrutinised by a lot of people. It's not like we are celebrities or anything. Why do they have to care so much? I honestly don't know and don't care either. Our bond just attracts a lot of jealousy and objections. The idea of us together will piss people off. They want something, a fixed future for us, they expect it, but then they have to watch a totally different outcome, surprises, surprises.

Particularly those who have authority over us, they're supposed to be the wise guidance, the benevolent power that can protect us, but they will turn their backs on us, worse, they will turn their sneering gaze and contemptuous words on us. That can't be helped, I guess, we're the rebels, we go against their rules and expectations. I know you will want our bond to be blessed by those around us, I want it too, but reality is something we will have to face. At first, we may even have to hide our love, it's frustrating.

Don't worry, I will be strong for us, you won't even have to fight anything, just let me take care of it. I have enough strength to do that. Don't picture the image of me making a foray against them like a bull thrusting its horn angrily. I have enough wit not to do that, just like how I've charmed you with my words, I can do it too, to other people, the people who are against us. If it doesn't work, then I will just be my best, showing them how much of a good life I'm having with you. In the end, I just don't really care. We have our love and that's enough. We can always move away, to a better place. You will be surprised just how much freedom we do have.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[illbegottenfaith]

sweet?!

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - I meant to make a separate post a while back but college has been kicking my ass so 😭 but 300 followers!!! insaneee ily all sooo much mwah I feel so so grateful and also a little weirded out cuz wdym 300 people... (I am SO bad at these can you tell um anyways) also this was inspired by a new girl episode!! I kind of have plans for a part 3 but im still workshopping it so idk yet but !! we'll see :)

tropes/warnings - fluff, slight angst, mattheo not understanding physics (but its not like he had a formal education in the subject so is it rlly his fault??), tw descriptions of injury

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @kandralice @clairesblouse @deenaaa

"You're still coming this afternoon, right?"

You were having lunch in the Great Hall with your best friend Ivy, hours before one of the most entertaining sporting events of the year - an underground Muggle sports day. Every year, a group of students from each house would compete in some arbitrarily chosen muggle sport, with varying levels of success. Casualties and knee-slapping memories (for those standing in the sidelines, such as yourself) were a guarantee.

You nodded. "Are you kidding? Watching the boys wack each other black and blue at some poor attempt at a muggle sport? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope it's hockey. It's got sticks, you know." You got an odd, dreamlike look in your eye. "Merlin, I hope it's hockey."

Ivy dug into her Shepherd's pie. "Good. It sounds interesting enough. Plus, Theo's new girlfriend will be there."

You nearly upset your pumpkin juice.

"Girlfriend? When did that happen?"

Something in your voice must have given your true feelings away from the way Ivy squinted at you suspiciously. You pulled a face. It seemed convincing enough.

"It's all very new," Ivy said a tad bit sternly. "They met at Davies' party a while back and, well, they fancied each other, so -"

You snorted.

"What, is he blackmailing her?"

Ivy frowned at you. "Don't snark," she rebuked. "It isn't nice. She's a regular daisy, you'll see."

Yeah. Sure. You piled some more mashed potatoes onto your plate.

"Has anyone checked her for brain damage? Look - I'm not even snarking, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing - "

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work,” Mattheo was saying as the two of you walked over the makeshift Muggle basketball court someone had fashioned out of one of the disused storerooms in the dungeons. He and the rest of the Slytherin boys were wearing matching fluorescent green mesh vests to distinguish themselves from the Gryffindor team, engaged in some deadly serious discussion. A part of you wondered if you should mention that muggle sports weren’t generally meant to be as fatal as Quidditch.

As usual, Theo looked bored to death by the conversation. "We've been over this a hundred times. You dribble the ball -"

"Yeah, right," Mattheo vehemently said. "Like this thing's coming up if I throw it down. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, oddly reminscent of the way you did when you felt a migraine coming on.

"Remember the tennis ball, Matty? The fuzzy, green one?"

"That's different. That thing was tiny, and bouncy. This thing's heavy. It's the size of my head. No, a quaffle. No, a -"

"Then what do you think is going to happen?" Theo interrupted irritably.

“Stick to the ground, obviously. Watch - "

As seasoned as the lot of you had become in anticipating Mattheo's often highly dangerous impulses, this one came entirely out of left field. Theo yanked him back by his vest, but it was too late. He slammed the basketball down and it ricocheted back up almost immediately, punching him right in the nose. Mattheo swore loudly, and the last thing you saw before you looked away was an awful amount of blood.

Even after Enzo took him to the Hospital Wing, once Theo had sufficiently plugged his nose with obscene amounts of tissue, things did not improve for the team. About halfway through the game, an unfortunate scuffle between some of the players left Draco curled up in a ball, grimacing as he clutched his knee. Theo winced, running over to where Draco was doing a rather poor job of concealing his pain.

"Oh, that's so Teddy," Margaret gushed to you, "always stopping by to help anyone in need. Isn't he such a gentleman?"

You nodded stiffly, your slight smile frozen on your face, willing Ivy to hurry back with the snacks and drinks she had left for. After she had introduced the two of you to each other, you decided that Margaret was a perfectly pleasant person, even if she wasn't the type of friend you typically sought out. If anything, you were more confused than ever about what she was doing, hanging around a guy as bitter as Theo.

However, one thing that truly bothered you was the odd remark here or there that revealed her grossly inaccurate perceptions of him, such as this one. You thought back to just last week when you had tripped in front of him on one of the Shifting Staircases, your books tumbling down into the recesses of the stairwell. He had stopped by you, alright. Stopped to point and laugh, that is.

"Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. He's really sweet," Margaret finished.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"Sweet?"

Just in time, Ivy hurried over, gently pulling you away with some half-hearted excuse.

"O-kay, I think that's enough bonding for today."

"Sweet," you echoed weakly as you limply allowed yourself to be carted away, the appalled expression still on your face. "She thinks he's sweet." Euch.

But Ivy wasn't paying attention to you anymore. "How bad is it?" she asked, as the two of you neared the cluster around Draco.

"Bad," Ivan replied, gingerly pressing Draco's knee. "He definitely needs to see Madam Pomfrey. No way he'll be able to play any more today, and we're out of reserves, so we're a man short." He turned, motioning to the Gryffindor players scattered across the field that the game was over.

"Damn. I'll take him to the hospital wing, I've been meaning to check on Mattheo too. Meg, you'll help me, won't you?"

With a little difficulty, the three of them limped along once they had pulled Draco's arms over their shoulders. One of the Gryffindor players approached the crowd, picking up on what was happening after a glance at Draco.

"What about the game?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "We'll rematch, you nitwit."

You went back to your seat, trying to figure out what to do with Ivy's refreshments. Once it was clear that the game was over, the last of the players and the scanty audience filtered out of the room.

"What gives?"

You pulled your gaze back to the lone Slytherin player left, in a blood-spotted mesh vest. Your least favourite player. You could slap that on a T-shirt - not that you wanted to cheer for him. Merlin, no. Cheer against him, maybe. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy - which, coincidentally, happened to be him. You momentarily abandoned your musings as you returned to the real world, noticing the expectant look on his face.

"Hm?"

Theo spread him arms out and shrugged in a helpless sort of manner.

"I don't get it, L/N. What do you want from me?

You stared at him blankly. "...what are you talking about?"

He scoffed half-heartedly, like he was too upset to put any real heat behind it.

"I have this amazing new girlfriend that everyone loves." He tossed the ball away with a defeated air. "Everyone, except you."

The words stung. You stuck your chin out defiantly.

"Why do you care so much about what I think?"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?

"I just want you to be honest."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Honesty? That's what this is about?"

That's what it had always been about, you wanted to say. You sniffed nonchalantly, rearranging the pleats of your skirt.

"I don't think it's fair to Margaret that you're selling her some lie just to -"

"You think I'm lying to her?"

He kept his voice cool, almost offensively neutral. You rolled your eyes. "I know you are."

Theo was quiet after that, as if mulling over what you had said.

"So," he pressed after a moment, slowly walking towards you, forcing you to crane your head up to maintain eye contact, "you think I should be more transparent with her. That is...show her my unpleasant side."

You allowed yourself a brief smile. "Exactly."

"Be more rude to her."

"Yeah."

"Mock her."

You furrowed your brow slightly.

"Erm, sure."

"Insult her."

"I - what?"

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

In that moment, you decided you never hated Theo more than you did then, with his domineering stances, condescending sneers, and caustically sarcastic remarks. You swallowed hard, your throat almost painfully tight as you felt the traitorous prick of tears behind your eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered. But he wasn't being entirely ridiculous, was he? It was what made the whole thing all that more upsetting.

If he noticed you were teary-eyed, he didn't comment on it, as if it were disappointing. As if you were yet another disappointment in his book of unfairly high expectations. He straightened with a barely convincing air of nonchalance. If anything, he looked just as upset as you felt.

"Whatever, L/N. See you around."

[ghostlysoupcan]

people in the notes being like 'the homeless are lazy unwashed leeches and shouldnt commit the crime of existing in the same place good regular hard working people and we shouldnt give them handouts for it' is so funny to me because itd only take one good medical debt to make them homeless as well and the answer to the entire issue is to just help them.

Hate seeing homeless people be unwashed and agitated all the time from having the collective worst day of their lives for the past few weeks? Gee, its almost like theyd get out of your sight and stop being smelly or angry and argumentitive if they had a house to live in, a shower to use and not worrying about getting your shit stolen or arrested. Humans get fucking scared and fucking mad when they dont have what they need to survive and theyre used to people being shitty to them, shocker there.

think about how agitated you get after not being able to shower for a week or more, or being hungry or thirsty or cold and cant fix any of those. combine that with the fact that youre dealing with financial insecurity and the fear of getting killed or arrested or worrying someone else will take what little you have left (cough cops do that all the time cough cough) And verbal abuse on top of job searches that fail due to the previous issues mentioned.

the job market is a nightmare and this isnt 1970 where you can walk in and ask for a job. you need a phone to return job calls implying you even get one. you need a car to go to the only job you can sort of do in a 30 mile radius and oh, bus infrastructure isnt everywhere, yknow. You need a place of residence and people dont like to hire those who have none.

I hope if yall become homeless that youre treated with more compassion than youve shown the people you love to call parasites because youre gonna learn pretty quick that people will just as happily hate you too. no amount of 'id be fine though cause im smart and not lazy id just-' will stop murphy from fucking you over too. Lots of people had said the same, and a lot of them still dont make it out without help.

All of this while not accounting for disabilities, physical or otherwise or not having a family or partner to bail you out.

[stealingpotatoes]

my star wars hot take will always be that rebels would have worked better in another era. i like some of the characters in rebels but the fundamental concept of “this very small group of people who do everything” works super well for the republic era (where things were actually fought by a small group of separatists and their droids vs the soldiers of the republic) and not for the galactic civil war era which was masses of ordinary people coming together. it would have been cool if they’d set it in the same sort of era as the acolyte or even before that. i like rebels as a story, but i fundamentally disagree with where it’s set.

i promise in every other situation a jedi who wears bright orange to a stealth ops mission, steals from people and makes a lightsaber/gun fusion is my dream character.

i just wanna preface my answer to this with I LOVE REBELS AND I HOPE YOU GUYS HAVE WORKED THAT OUT FROM HOW MUCH I DRAW IT but anon's like... almost right here. rebels' concept isnt "like 6 people who do literally everything" rebels' concept is supposed to be "this hopelessly outmatched and motley group of outcasts try to rebel in whatever way they can". but it comes across as what anon said cause the fundamental issue w this show is that most the time, it's a kids saturday morning cartoon first and story/drama second. which often makes the show/characters feel very tonally inconsistent w its (VERY DARK) setting a lot of the time. and dont get me wrong rebels has some GREAT arcs that feel more in-place with the "6 people help fight galactic fascism" tone and i love this show but i do get what you're saying

[coyoteprince]

If you follow me on bluesky you may of seen this, but I'm posting it here because it means a lot to me.

I could tell he was queer (and probably neurodivergent) from a mile away, and graciously credit PeeWee for giving me the courage to be openly queer, autistic, weird- despite all the pressure to be anything but.

I grew up watching Playhouse, seeing PeeWee as supremely autistic, recognizing him as one of the few people "like me". Being diagnosed as autistic young then getting hit and screamed at daily for it, his TV presence was a great comfort. If could be so openly weird yet loved- why can't I?

Idolization is something I'm careful about, but I still adore him. He has always been my role model. And what he taught me was to be as authentically myself as possible while staying loving to one another.

Remembering how adults talked about him so vitriolicly, assuming he was a predator, a fairy, a pervert has always been annoying. With more context, enraging more than ever. I don't think it was a secret he was queer at all, but with the public mistreatment he got in the 90s after being arrested at an erotic theater by cops looking for an easy arrest, its no wonder he made an attempt to avoid attention of it. I always saw him as an example of being openly weird- yet he was fearful to the end. That's unacceptable. Not of him, but that he (and many like him) were terrorized into that position.

If there's one thing I hope people take away from my own thoughts on this, it's that we need to resistant those who want us silent more than ever. The 90s were a particularly cruel time for the queer community, and its obvious that people in power want to try to dimish our safety. We need to look out for one another, love and be open about ourselves, and fight for our right to exist as we naturally are.

This article genuinely made me so mad on his and our community's behalf that I walked away with the thought "I can never hate myself again". I can't afford to keep doing a bigot's job for them by beating myself down for being different.

None of us can.

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing

originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:

Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.

What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...

Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?

“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.

“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.

“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.

He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.

He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”

She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”

Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.

“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”

Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.

//

Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?

He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.

“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”

Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.

“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.

Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”

Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”

Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"

"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.

"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”

He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.

“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.

Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.

Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.

Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.

//

When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.

Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”

Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.

“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.

“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.

Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”

"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”

Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.

Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.

He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”

Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”

Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”

Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.

“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”

His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.

“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”

“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.

“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.

Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.

Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.

“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”

“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.

In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.

//

Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.

He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.

Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.

“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”

Another no.

“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”

Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”

“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”

Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.

Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.

Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.

Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...

Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.

“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.

“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.

Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”

Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"

Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”

She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.

“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.

“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”

“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.

Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."

He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.

“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.

“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.

“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”

“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”

“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.

“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."

“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.

Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”

“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.

“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.

"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”

He walked out.

A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.

//

When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.

Shit.

"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."

Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."

"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."

"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."

Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."

"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."

Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.

"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.

Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.

"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"

He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.

Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"

"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.

"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."

"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.

"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."

Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.

"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.

"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.

"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."

The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."

"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."

"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.

Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."

Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."

"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.

Fuck.

Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.

"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."

"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"

"Years?" he asked, amused.

"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.

"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"

"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.

Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 

"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"

"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"

"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"

"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"

"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.

Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.

"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.

Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.

"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.

“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.

“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”

“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.

“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.

[chosove]

18+ mdni | tutoring toru :)

tw. mentions of A&P I ☹️ anatomy and physiology … my enemy …

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

“lets go over that one more time, ‘kay ‘toru? you have to use the scientific wording to actually be correct. its not ‘spongy stuff’, its trabeculae.”

you didnt realize how exasperated your voice sounded until you saw the man before you deflate, a pout forming on his pretty pink lips. “i dont get what i said wrong this time” satoru exclaimed, head falling to the table in frustration. “you asked the difference between compact and spongy bone, right? spongy bone is like…spongy looking. so i didn’t say tabec… whatever- why does it matter?”

it took a lot of effort to suppress the chuckle fighting its way past your lips- seeing the prideful gojo satoru crumble over basic anatomy was too ironic to not laugh at. “how ‘bout we take a break?” you sighed, patting his head, feeling warmth bloom in your chest when his teary eyes peeked up at you. letting your hand fall slightly, you cupped his cheek, wiping at the wetness forming on his lower lashes. did he always look this good? how were his eyes suddenly so intense, and how on earth do his lips look so soft? so red? so kissable?

without thinking, your thumb traced satoru’s lower lip, pulling it from its place between his teeth and watching in delight as he let you press down on it. it wasn’t until he let out a soft pant, eyelids fluttering shut that you finally pulled your hand back, the guilty look painting your face making it seem like you’d just been caught doing something much, much worse.

god, how satoru wishes that were the case.

jumping back, you brushed your hands off on your shirt before turning to him once again, his wide eyes watching your every move. “h-how about we finish there today, hm? you seem tired so-“

before you could finish, his hand shot up to grab your wrist. “no!” satoru nearly shouted, clearing his throat when he saw you jump. “s-sorry, i mean um…” his voice trailed off as he stared into your eyes, thinking of an excuse for you to stay and do something other than school.

satoru had been crushing on you ever since the first day of biology, the way you smiled when he asked what your professor meant by homeostasis melting his heart- he was closer than ever today and he couldnt lose that momentum.

“maybe we could focus on something else?…” you watched his adams apple bob before he continued, nerves evident in the way his voice began to tremble. “m-might help me memorize stuff better if i have a real figure?”

if it werent for the fact he was your favourite client (who also paid the most), you would’ve said no. you probably shouldve said no, but god he really did look like he was about to pass out just from voicing the request- what would he look like when you showed him all the spots he was most sensitive? did he already know them?

Before you could think too deeply on it, you responded with a nod. “not really comfy down here though…how about we go up to your room?”

A deep blush painted his cheeks as he grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs to his room, sitting shyly on his bed with his hands in his lap after opening the door. You giggled at the sudden change in his mood- he wasnt all that confident when he first asked you up here, but did he even wanna go through with it?

Standing before him, you dragged a finger across his jaw, slightly lifting his head up to look at you. “We can always go back to studying ‘toru, I dont mind.”

He didnt know if it was the way the nickname rolled off your lips or the implication that something that wasnt school was actually gonna happen, but he shook his head rapidly and wrapped his arms around your thighs regardless- relishing in the giggle you let out as you placed your hands on his undercut for stability. “N-no please, i mean…we haven’t done a lot of studying on the actual anatomy part right?”

It should be a crime how irresistible gojo satoru can be even when using biology to flirt. “Guess you’re right ‘toru, how about we start with…” your voice trailed off as you moved to sit atop his lap, the sight of his eyelids fluttering shut when your crotch rested just above his making your stomach flip with excitement. “D’you remember what I said these were called?” your sweet voice questioned, dragging his hands to rest on your breasts.

A deep groan fell from Satoru’s lips, his head falling forward to rest between his hands as they groped your chest. “Y-yeah fuck they’re mammary glands right? ‘S where the milk c-comes from”

You giggled at his neediness, his hips jumping up while talking about milk only making you cockier. Ripping your shirt off, you tilted his head up once more to look into his blown out pupils. “Feeling thirsty ’toru?”.

His blown out pupils watched with excitement as your hands reached behind you to unclip your bra, a sigh of release falling from your lips as the tension of the bands washed away. Without another word, satoru pressed a kiss to your left nipple, watching the way the sensation caused it to become erect. You gasped before pushing his head closer to your chest, craving his mouth to be on you anywhere and everywhere.

“ish th-this okay?” His muffled voice spoke as he suckled on your tits, desperately flicking his tongue against the nipple before gently biting it, slowly rocking his hips up into you each time he did so. Your fierce nods in response only goaded him on, his hand going to your other breast so it wasnt neglected, fingers busying themselves by pinching your nipple.

“Shit toru…ngh doin’ so good, ‘m so wet for you”

Before you could get any more words out, you heard a whine of what sounded like your name against your chest followed with a deep, rumbling groan, Satoru’s hips jumping up in reflex as he came in his pants. “F-fuck ‘m sorry hah jus’ wanted ya for so long n’ youre so pretty f-fuck ‘s still comin-“

What felt like eternity of gojo satoru licking and kissing your breasts as he creamed himself was finally over after nearly 3 minutes, his hands going from harshly grasping your tits to simply resting them atop them. You waited until he rid out his orgasm to make any movements, hands beginning to push him away before you were grabbed by his muscled arms.

“Ya didnt finish…i have to do the reproductive system next ya know…gonna need to know more than just youre mommy milkers”

[222prettysickgirl777]

spencer reid nsfw alphabet

primarily softdom!spencer bcos i can’t stop thinking about that man and what id let him do to me x

18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

spencer is so unbelievably sweet and gentle afterward, no matter what you’ve done, if it was something tame and simple or something more intense. he’s a huge cuddler and loves to have as much contact as possible, smushing your face to his and murmuring praise and sweet nothings so you know you’re loved. if there are any marks on you he’ll take such good care of you, being so gentle, asking if it hurts and what you need, etc.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

spencer likes his brain and his hands because you like his hands. he’s a tits man, but i think his favorite part of you is your brain or your face or something more mundane like even your back. he thinks all of you is so gorgeous he probably could never pick a favorite part.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i don’t think he cares that much one way or another about it. its messy so he’s not a big fan of that, but after sex he’s never rushing to clean it up if you just need him to hold you for a while. but he won’t sleep on dirty sheets, that’s for sure. either a towel is going down first or he’s setting you up with a blanket to curl up on the couch while he strips the bed and remakes it with clean sheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i think he quite likes the idea of taking dirty photos of you or even just suggestive/lewd ones. if you did one of those boudoir photo shoots and gave it to him he’d be OBSESSED. but he knows how easy it is for people to steal photos stored online so if he did it he’d have them as hard copies only. i also think he’s extremely possessive and would so buy you a ring with his initials engraved on the inside or a necklace with the tiniest letter S. he likes seeing you in stuff he bought or even just in his clothing cos he’s territorial and he likes people knowing you’re his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

it depends. earlier in the show, not much experience, but later on he’s gotten with a decent number of girls, probably all the ones he has one episode romances with. he’s too much of a workaholic to care THAT much about sleeping with women, but he occasionally will take the opportunity. regardless of how much experience he has, that boy knows what he’s doing. he’s done lots of research and is a quick learner and so eager to please.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. spooning comes in second place.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it’s serious for him. not that he can’t ever be happy and smiley during, but cos for him it’s an expression of how devoted he is n how much he loves you, so it matters quite a lot to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s very well maintained and hygienic. that’s all i can say.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

incredibly intimate. like i said, its a love language for him. he doesn’t see the point in it really unless it’s about being with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not something he does a ton, but if he starts thinking about you like that, and you’re not around, sure. he’s never had any hang ups around that cos before you he didn’t have that much time to find women to hook up with, and he knows its just a natural human instinct. but he can only get off if he’s thinking about you now.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

shibari. i wrote a whole thing about this, which you can read here. he likes anything where you willingly submit yourself to him. if he never had to force you into submission that would be fine by him, he likes to be gentle with you. but sometimes YOU like being bratty just to see that small glint in his eye, cos even though it’s not his favorite thing in the world, he knows exactly what to do with you when you get like that, and he’s not afraid to do it. it’s especially fun to tease him in public just to feel his grip on your waist get a bit tighter and see how he lets his dominant side out a bit more, even in public. he’d never do anything that would make the people around you uncomfortable, but if they were paying attention they’d see the way he gives you warning looks when you misbehave, or how when he decides you’ve had enough alcohol or coffee he just takes the drink out of your hands and switches you to water, or any of the ways he’s casually dominant like that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere in the apartment. on the couch, on the bed, in the shower, at his desk. just nowhere where food typically is, and he always cleans up well and disinfects surfaces afterward. he’ll fuck you over his desk and afterward when you come out of the shower the office will smell like bleach and lemon disinfectant.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it doesn’t take a lot, and sometimes you’re not even sure what you’ve done when you see that wanting look in his eye. sometimes you’re just brushing your teeth, or getting a midnight snack, or making a cup of tea. he can control himself quite easily, so its never a problem. but even just you making a sarcastic snarky joke will turn him on, or flipping your hair to take your earrings out at the end of the day in front of the mirror. he basically exists in a state of perpetually wanting you so can be ready whenever.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don’t think he’s big into degrading you. even when he’s domming you it’s almost coming from a submissive place, if that makes sense? he worships you and when he dominates you its to please you and give you what you want and deserve, and to express his total overwhelming adoration. the most he’ll do is teasingly call you a slut, affectionately basically, and not when you’re actually having sex. all he can think about during sex is how divine you are. also he’s not into choking you (sees too much of that in his job) or too-rough impact play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves both but if he could only have one for the rest of his life, it’d be giving. he’s extremely good at it. spencer is a munch through and through. he’ll eat you out for literal hours, until your face is soaked in tears and you’re all twitchy. he loves to make you whiny and hear your quiet broken begs for him to please stop, no more spence, can’t i can’t i can’t, even as you’re pulling his hair, pushing him closer, grinding into his mouth and cumming again with a relieved sigh, cos he knows you want it, he knows you like being overstimulated and used for hours, you’re just too shy polite and sweet to ask for it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

slow and deep. he likes to fuck you so deep your jaw drops, toes curl and back arches. you’re gonna feel every inch dragging in and out of you. he’ll do that til you’re begging for it faster, on the brink of cumming but just needing that little push. and then he’ll keep doing it. he’d never say “no cumming until i say so” because why say it when he doesn’t have to, and can just decide for you? he’ll fuck you slow and hard until he decides you need to cum, and then he’ll give it to you, whispering sweet things all while you cry and scratch your nails down his back.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he finds the idea of mutual release romantic. sex as something you can do together to relieve stress. so if you both need it, he’ll do it. it’s almost like a ritual before a rossi party or anything like that, where you fuck just before you go, almost to relax both of your social anxieties (and bcos you look so pretty in your dress he just has to slip your underwear off). unfortunately sometimes he goes into it with the intention of making it quick, but he simply gets so lost in you it turns into and hour and a half long session where by the end the event is probably over anyways.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if he’s really wound up, yes. your sex life is a spectrum of vanilla to kinky and the more stressed he is, the more he wants you to completely surrender to him, the more he wants to show you who you belong to and the lengths he’ll go to to please you. his go to that lets you know he’s in an intense mood is tying your wrists behind your back or above your head, either intricately with rope or with cuffs if he doesn’t have the patience. he’d never do anything if you showed any signs of resistance or not wanting it, but he’ll suggest more experimental stuff. he’d also do anything you wanted to try as long as it didn’t involve hurting you physically or mentally.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as long as necessary. he enters some kind of flow state with you where he’s so focused on you he’s not even thinking about himself and has immaculate self control. if he wants to see what you look like after your sixth orgasm, he’s gonna get you there, that becomes his only goal. he can fuck you on and off for forty five minutes before he cums if he so feels like it, just to turn you into a completely melted, pliable mess.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

aside from restraints, i think the only toy he has is one vibrator that either used to be yours or he bought just to use on you. sometimes he likes having you at the edge of the bed, completely naked and thighs spread, while he stands above you fully dressed, teasing you with the vibrator and then making you cum that way until you’re a soaked mess. he just plays with you like you’re a toy, and after you’re smearing your wetness between your thighs and dripping onto the bed, maybe he’ll unzip just enough to fuck you because you’re so ready for him, or maybe he’ll just admire you like that for a while before kissing your head and cleaning you up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s not a huge tease, but he will deny you sex if you’re too drunk, or behaved too badly, or if he thinks you want it for the wrong reasons. he’s actually way more likely to make you cum until your legs are trembling and your clit goes numb cos your body just can’t handle more, than he is to tease or edge you. not saying it NEVER happens, it will, just not super often. but when he does, he gets really into it, like wants to work you up to the point of insanity and bargaining with him and begging him to let you cum, before he makes you cum so hard you legit go nonverbal for a while after and just need to cuddle him and cry.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he talks a lot during sex (it’s spencer, duh). other than that he makes noises that are almost desperate, he whines sometimes, loud groans when he cums. also swears more during sex than any other time to the point where if you hear him swear in public you automatically need to press your thighs together.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

will occasionally in public whisper something suggestive into you ear and then act like it didn’t happen just to see you get worked up and flustered and not be able to do anything about it, just fighting not to go into subspace and sometimes giving up and getting really quiet and needy and clingy to him. again, wouldn’t do this in a context where it could embarrass you or make you bad at your job or anything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

over six inches, and he’s gorgeous. prettiest youve ever seen. if you’re someone who doesn’t really like the appearance of dicks, he would be an exception.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

before you sex or jacking off was just a response to a natural instinct, but now its a way for him to express love and affection, and just be close to you. sometimes he initiates when he’s not even turned on, just thinking about how much he loves you and wants to be close to you. can totally see you cuddling in the middle of the night and he pushes your shorts and underwear to the side to gently fill you up, just to hear your soft little moan and feel you wrap your legs around him. he doesn’t care if he cums or not, he only wants to be as close to you as possible most of the time, and sometimes that means being inside you. he can fuck whenever, but he’s also content just to hold you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he doesn’t fall asleep quickly after unless you were domming him. usually he’s the type to stay up and ponder philosophically with you in his arms long after youve fallen asleep. he definitely gets hit with post nut clarity, not the kind where he doesn’t want you anymore, he just starts thinking about life and shit, and how much he loves you and how much his life has changed.

this won’t be to everyone’s taste but i’ve got a very specific version of him in my mind and he lives there rent free. inbox always open for spencer thoughts xx

[gatorbites-imagines]

Omni-man being defeated in battle and subsequently dominated? Maybe the trophy wife concept you mentioned in the NSFW alphabet for him?? I just love him

Nolan Grayson x Galactus inspired male reader

Headcanons

Imagine a big evil smirk growing on my face when I saw this request. set somewhere after Nolan leaves earth and Mark has taken Oliver back to earth.

Readers inspired by Galactus. Because I go apeshit for extreme size differences. I wanted this to be smutty, but it just ended up getting kinda cracky...

had a lot of fun writing this reader, would love to write him again.

You were an ancient immortal being known for devouring planets for power, feared across the universe and multiverse. You fought many battles with the people of viltrum, mainly because of how powerful you were and how much of a threat you posed. Of course, they never won, which wounded their ego.

But at some point, you guys struck a deal. You would stop attacking them and they would stop attacking you. You guys would stay out of each other’s way and territory. Sometimes they would even offer you planets if your heralds found it worthy of consumption.

How Nolan fell into your lap could happen in many ways, but I find the most interesting being him leaving Andressa and Thraxa. Maybe he travels so far, he succumbs to exhaustion like when he left earth, and he just happens to fall right into your giant palm.

You weren’t mindlessly evil, but you weren’t good either. And the small violent viltrumites had always intrigued you. You had always wanted one of them to be a herald of yours, but you also knew you wouldn’t have their loyalty.

Nolan would wake up well rested and healed, curled up on a hard purple surface which he would later realize is your palm. You had been floating through the universe simply holding him like one would hold a little bird or mouse, or maybe more a small vulnerable flower petal.

Nolan has most likely lived long enough to have fought you before, so he knows who you are, what you can do, and the deals he’s broken by ending up in your territory. Maybe hes just too depressed to care about himself, his people, anything.

To you, hes kind of like a little pathetic creature, like how we see a baby animal missing a leg and coo, wanting to keep it and care for it. well, maybe its more like you want to own him. A being like yourself don’t experience emotions like everyone else, but there’s interest.

It’s a bit sad to see a viltrumite so wilted and weakened. You had expected a fight, and order your heralds to try and goad him into one so you can crush his will yourself. But Nolan just sits on your palm with a blank look in his eyes, even as you devour planets right in front of him.

The whole “wife” process kind of starts up after Nolan and you have shared silence for a while, who knows how long. The universe is vast, and you guys just keep moving from one planet to the next.

Maybe he just starts telling you about his life on earth, his wife, or wives, his sons, how he’s starting to think everything he’s learned maybe isn’t right. How he’s tired and feels like he doesn’t have a purpose.

In the beginning you offer to make him one of your heralds, but being able to enter people’s minds you also pick through his memories, wants and deeper wishes.

A being like yourself has never had much interest in a spouse, at least after ascending into what you are now. There is the fact that you will exist until the universe ends completely, how you travel the dark emptiness of space, and how you are one of the most evil beings in the universe, if others ask.

Sliding the mental image into Nolans head, of being your so called “wife” is the first time you get a major reaction out of him. Maybe its viltrumite instinct or his own pride, but he wont just take it laying down.

Fighting him isn’t a challenge for you, you could have crushed him very easily, but you make it seem like you put in an effort to calm whatever struggles Nolan might have in his mind. It’s only after you’ve defeated him, and there’s literally nothing else he can do that Nolan will shyly agree.

To him theres no life to return to, so why not live out that little fantasy of his. It’s not like you’ll demand him to do more carnal wifely acts… right?

(spoiler, you will, but that comes later when you guys gain a deeper more intense attraction to each other. And when that time comes Nolan agrees very willingly)

In the beginning there isn’t really any change in the relationship you guys already had. Being a literal cosmic being means you normally don’t feel a lot of carnal urges or wants, so it’s all up to Nolan to make a move.

You visiting Herald almost choked when they saw Nolan floating up to your massive face and kiss your lips, even if he only is able to kiss your bottom lip.

The other Heralds also have a similar reaction when you start referring to Nolan as your wife. They can’t question you, and some of them just give Nolan a “good luck” and are on their way.

You don’t really care whatsoever about gendered terms, and as much as Nolan blushes and denies it, your mental bond lets you feel how much he likes being called Wife.

Its digging around Nolans mind that you see his deeper fantasies and start bringing out the things that go along with it. like, materializing a skimpy “slave” outfit for him, in purple and blue of course so he matches you.

When you order him to shave his beard Nolan almost, almost, blows up and starts arguing. But deep down he also knows its what he wants, to disconnect himself completely from who he was before and just allowing himself to be someone new.

At some point you start referring to him as your “viltrum slave” and later just “slave wife” because it gets Nolan really excited, if you know what I mean. Being mentally connected means that Nolans pleasure is your pleasure. You technically could shrink and enjoy the throes of the body with him, but being so much bigger excites both of you.

It does worsen your already horrible image somewhat, and give people stupid ideas. Planets start trying to offer you women, or their species version of it, to try and make you leave their planet. Its always denied though.

When planets realize you don’t want women, they start trying to offer you “wives” that look like Nolan, which just makes Nolan pissed, because he’s as possessive as you. On those planets you let him indulge in his viltrumite urge for destruction, before you devour it.

Nolan will regularly forget just how strong he is when he’s around you and your heralds. They start referring to him as your “pet” or “wife” too, just playing into Nolans little fantasy. And who are you to stop them? Happy wife, happy life.

This also just means that Nolan can shock himself by wiping out entire planets in hours. In the past it might have taken months or weeks, but with the cosmic powers from you as well, nobody really stands a chance.

It will be very fun if rumors get back to earth somehow that you have “kidnapped and enslaved” a rogue viltrumite. I’m not sure they’d send anyone to save Nolan, but they gotta live with that.

Maybe you pull up to earth for one reason or another. Big chance its because your scantily dressed wife has been fantasizing about this one gelato Nolan used to eat on the regular, so of course you have to go get it.

You could have sent your heralds or just teleported maybe Nolan to do it but… you want to go on a date…

So, you shrink from “I swallow planets whole” size to “im big enough to knock down this skyscraper” size, and just… appear on earth. Cue huge chaos and extreme fear, because you can’t tell me Cecil wouldn’t know of you at least.

Cue guardians of the globe pulling up, and someone, probably Rex, going “hold up… isn’t that your dad?” to Mark, because of course Nolan is sitting all pretty and “enslaved” looking on your shoulder.

The whole “slave” outfit also put these shackle looking things around Nolans wrists and ankles, as well as a collar, to make it look like you were somehow suppressing his powers. Sometimes they actually did that if you wanted them too. Most of the time it was for looks.

Its… very awkward. Nolan would be embarrassed if he hadn’t wiped out an entire planet wearing only a purple bra and panties once. This one is at least more like Leias slave outfit than the almost nonexistent stuff you sometimes had him wear.

Theres a chance its more surprising to see Nolan without his moustache honestly, than it is seeing him in the bra and fabric ensemble.

I have a feeling you would, in your powerful godly cosmic entity voice, booming loud enough for the entire state to hear, tell mark that he may refer to you as stepfather, if he would like.

Someone, Rex, would start wheezing so hard with laughter he would struggle not to pass out. I have a feeling most of the guardians would start snickering, except for the more serious ones like Rudy, who knows you could snuff them all out if you wanted.

For some comedy and crack, Debbie gives you, devourer of planets and immortal cosmic being, the shovel talk. Nolan is impressed that you seem more attentive to her words than entire planets begging for mercy.

Nolan doesn’t return to earth, or to Debbie or anything, but you do offer your stepson (Mark groans and covers his face), that you will help him out if he needs it. you also offer to play baseball with him, or take him to “the game” (you still don’t really understand what that is), for family bonding.

You keep eating planets, Nolan keeps being your little trophy wife, but maybe the ending of this universe won’t be the same as in the comics, since Mark now has his “sigh… step father” on his side. You and Nolan just keep being a happy married couple, in whatever way someone like you two can be.

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader (pt 2.)

Two losses in a row, a broken arm, and a complete disruption of the script. Add it all up, and it's trouble for you. So much so that your boss, Shepherd, called you into his office and told you to fix it. Or else. Not ominous at all.

an: oh yeah buddy pt 2. tried to do a pov switch (?) hope it isnt too confusing lmao. tried to keep reader as gender neutral as possible. dee vs accents, dee vs giving the reader a nickname

tw: nothing much, tagging these just to be safe. reader is told to "cover up more" and be less of a distraction, soap is a clingy, overenthusiastic little guy, reader briefly wants to kill their boss

(masterlist, 1)

"Four against three. One with a broken arm. Tell me how, in less than two matches, a team with a perfect track record loses twice and completely disrupts the script?"

You start, but Shepherd interrupts you. "They got distracted, that's how." He stands and starts pacing, looming over you. "The 141 boys were supposed to win last night. That's the script, that's why we did the promo the way we did it. And they, pro wrestlers with years of experience, got distracted."

He slams his hand down on the desk.

"Fix it." A finger in your face. "I don't care how! Cover up more, talk less, I don't care. Fix it!"

And like that, you're dismissed. Left standing outside his office door like some puppy. You want to march right back in there and slam his stupid, deformed pug-looking face right into his desk. But you can't. You need this job. It's your dream and your only source of income.

So you go home, and you stare into the mirror for a good ten minutes.

Okay. Just... talk less. Easy. You can shut up, you can stop talking. Not like you're the only announcer anyway, you have your coworkers. But how would that even work? You're an announcer. You announce things! Are you just supposed to not do your job? Does Shepherd not know why he hired you? Is he not the one signing the checks?

You settle for wearing a turtleneck the next day.

Pulling into the parking lot is no problem, neither is passing through security and going backstage, but the second you pass the men's locker room on the way to your booth, you're stopped.

"Aye, bonnie!" An arm makes its way over your shoulders, and turning your head, you see a familiar sharp grin.

"Soap." You shrug him off. Usually, it's fine, just him being touchy as normal, but you were told to sort out the distraction problem, to take up less space in the company, so you need to do that.

A flash of hurt passes over his face, and it stabs at your heart. "You can call me Johnny-" You shake your head. You did, before the whole almost losing your job thing.

You walk away before he can pull out the puppy eyes.

-------------

"Somethin''s up with our announcer."

Gaz pokes his head up at that. "Sunshine?" At Soap's nod, he curses and stops his stretches. Ghost looks up too, eyes narrowed, always watching.

"Knew something was off when I saw the turtleneck. Never worn one of 'em before." He huffs, looking at the little TV they have in the room to see what's going on. "I mean, steamin' Jesus. Thing swallows 'em. Like I'm watching a live show of a nunnery."

"Somethin' wrong?" Price chooses that moment to look up from his cigar and actually pay attention to the conversation.

"Aye. Sunshine's a bit too quiet, ye ken?"

Price hums, running a hand over his face and beard. "A bit concerning. Not like 'em to be quiet for so long. Someone say something?"

Gaz and Soap look at each other, clearly not considering that option, then back at the TV.

"Maybe we should look into it." Ghost speaks up for the first time, voice a low mix of a whisper and grumble as he fixes a few stray stitches in his costume. "Saw 'em leave Shepherds office yesterday. Could pay 'im a little visit."

Price stands, groaning and rubbing a hand on his lower back. He really needs to use those ice packs his PT gave him. "I'll go. Stay low for now, prep for that interview."

A chorus of "Aye, Cap" rings out, and Price exits the locker room.

Soap waits for a few seconds before he rises, and is immediately tugged right back down by Ghost. A dog on a leash, he is. "Don't you even think about it, Johnny. You give 'im enough of a headache."

He grumbles, but he slumps down in his seat, eyeing the TV. Eyeing you. (And that stupid turtleneck.)

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Electrical Wire Vigil

No one knows what to do with the angel tangled in the power lines. The poor thing’s body was wrapped around and around the sparking wires and twisted-up into a ball. The face was obscured by its bent halo—a golden glow that sometimes oscillates like bad television signal. The wings float loosely in the air, all twelve feet of silken bits of light, ragged and torn at the ends.

A storm had felled the trees and the poles and anything taller than a chicken coup in one swoop. Anyone who dared cross the puddles and debris had to risk being electrocuted by the live wires or blinded by the angel’s weakly pulsing light.

The creature would periodically make a break for it too—wings going taut and rising in a flurry of trumpet sounds and frantic flapping. The electrical wires held fast, twisting against the angel’s soft flesh and pushing back. It fell, it always fell, back into the nest of tangled wires and would make weak cooing noises. I was an ornithologist before all this town and couldn’t help but think, pigeon.

The chaplain went to pray under the angel’s bent bod first, getting close as he dared. Everyone knew he wasn’t but a few weeks off the drink and his hands still shook when he lifted up the cross. The nun, she was retired but we still called her just that, caught the 921 bus to the next town that same day.

Some said she was going to the next town over to get a proper priest. Others said she had crossed herself and high-tailed it out of there. What bad luck it was going to be to have a dead angel in our backyard.

All this debris and only the birds can get close enough to it, flapping around the angels head and perching on its mighty back. They call to each other.

Davie, who I had once loved, offered to fetch his shotgun and put it out of its misery. The youngest one there, a girl named Clara, cried so hard she had to be walked back and forth down the lane three times. We opted to put “shooting a messenger of the lord” on the back burner. We gathered up wire cutters, holy books, rubber boots, and a good tree-cutting ax from the messes of our homes and piled them up. We'd wait a day or so at least, watching the angel and all silently hoping it would make it out on its own. 

I wasn’t a praying woman anymore. My house was a testament to a lot of broken things before it was ever leveled by the storm. But I didn’t have any little ones to walk up and down the lane and my car had survived just fine and I owned the best pair of binoculars out of anyone. So, I kept vigil–it was the least I could do. 

I sat and watched and sometimes cooed back when the angel let out long melancholy ooo's. Days of misery in exchange for just a few hours of wind and rain and fury, I thought, the relief trucks would be a while. The chaplain came at sundown and he passed me a drink from his flask. I wasn’t a praying woman anymore so I took a long sip and passed it back.

“Think it’ll make it out?” I asked, nodding at the angel, and the chaplain took a longer drink. I gave him a small smile and elbowed the man. “Glad you stayed, at least.” He nodded again and began to pray, never taking his eyes off the wires up above.

The girl came when the day tucked behind the trees into full dark.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” I told her tiny form at the edge of the puddles. She drew her knees up under her big sweater.

“I have to make sure he doesn’t try anything . . .” she said and I knew she was talking about Davie, who I could no longer love.

 “Does your mama know you’re out here?”

She mumbles from inside her little hoodie, “I can’t let ‘em do it.”

I sighed. “He won’t, not with me here,” I said and waved her over. I made the little girl climb into my lap to stop her shivering and the chaplain gave us all a long blanket to huddle under. The angel flapped those dirty wings and cooed.

“Can I see?” I let the little girl use my binoculars to make out that bent halo and loose curls. She got fingerprints all over the lens and I tried to ignore it.

“I want to be a meteorologist one day,” Clara said, unprompted. “So I can warn people about stuff like this.”

I snorted. “And I want to be a poet.”

“Hush,” Markus says to me and then to the little girl, “I’m sure you’ll make a great weather lady, Clara.” The chaplain gave a punished smile and it made me want to make fun of him just enough to stop it. Clara frowned.

“Did you always want to be a chaplain?” she asked in return and the chaplain didn't answer.

I cleared my throat. “Do you think that’s what it was trying to do? Trying to warn us?” “Or maybe it was just unlucky,” Markus says, rubbing a hand down his long face.

I snorted. “A bad day at work, for sure.”

“Does god allow for bad luck?” asked the little girl.

“Why don’t we ask it?” I say, and we laugh, weakly. We call out to the angel–questions and praise and hopes for tomorrow that we’ll get it out. Or maybe we'd have to get the shotgun tomorrow. The glow of the creature is so weak. Near midnight, the girl suggests we go looking for its horn. If it had been there to warn us, it might have carried a horn, and if it had a horn, we might be able to summon help. 

We search, feebly, avoiding the sparking wires and the upturned wood and metal. We go around in the mud on our hands and knees until we match the trapped thing. Though, we never do figure out what to do with the angel tangled in the power line. The night was long and bitter and we didn’t have anywhere else to be, the drunken chaplain and family-less woman of the birds and that little girl.

Before dawn, I am asleep, we are all asleep, dead to the world like the day will never come. And in the morning, the wires are loose on the ground and quiet. The angel is gone and a truck has come to pick us up. A part of me hopes it made it out. A part of me is relieved to see that Davie is here and he has all his supplies in the back. The trucks are here and the power company remembered us enough to cut off the power.

I have nowhere to be, and walk the little girl home. Gloria is happy to see her and offers me a place to stay the night even though I tell her my car is just fine. Still, she says, just a night.

The window in the guest room faces the electrical wires. They’ll rebuild them one day because you can’t waste the material all the way out here. Clara will go off to college one day. The chaplain will leave the drink for good, he will, and the church in the same breath. I will write a poem one day and it won’t be any good.

It’ll be about the electrical wires outside my windows. About how I don’t know if the angel made it out, but the birds still perch there. They preen and sing and fluff. I count them one by one in the pre-dawn light. Some are flesh and blood and they clean the feathers of the ones that aren’t. Pearly blue jays that sing forgotten songs from yesteryear, and there are fewer ones by the morning light. The angel wire they call it. Year after year, the birds return with their bodies or without them, to sit on the wire and preen their grandchildren and sing to lost mates, and I close my eyes and listen to the ghosts.

------------

My book! 🧡 Newsletter

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | Ending

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

P1 P2 P3 P4

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Medical inaccuracy - grammar mistakes - NON CANON EVENTS - Wrote before S3 so no idea how things will play. This can be really OOC - Would add more things but I would Spoil the ending -

You had no idea where you were at first. A light, then a flash of a person, multiple voices talking all at the same time. And the repeated sound of a machine.

A hospital? That was your first idea.

But what about the island ? The games ? Was all a nightmare your mind had conjured ? And what about your baby ?

Panic went throw your body, muscles screaming from your sudden move. You felt something in your nose, oxygen ? And your arms full of differents vials.

Soon a lot of nurses and a doctor came into the room. Trying to calm you down. Trying to settle you down and prevent you from ripping off the different medicines they were giving you.

But you did not respond. A sudden move made you hit someone, you had no idea who that person was.

Next thing you knew dark was once again taking over you.

The second time you woke up was different. Somehow your body felt lighter, like something was missing.

Wait.

Why was there a big pain in your stomach? Why did you feel less heavy ?

With trembling hands you moved the small hospital blanket and saw with horror a big scar on your belly.

The scream you left alerted the medical staff once again.

"Miss miss!! Please calm down, breath" A nurse said besides you

"My baby...you took my baby!! You screamed at her tears falling down your face. "Where is it? What did you do!!" The desesperation in your voice was clear, raw emotions filled you as you took a look around the white room.

"Miss listen please. You have been asleep for three weeks, your baby its fine I promise" The nurse said taking your hand "We had to remove it...your baby its a premature one but its fine"

"I want to see it, please"

The nurse gave a small nod signaling another nurse to go and find your baby.

"Take deep breaths, the doctor will come to check on how you are doing"

"I just want my baby, please I just want to see if its-"

The nurse returned a white blanket around a small body. Your body felt light like all was a dream. As she approached you and let you take a look. Your baby, sleeping without a care in the world.

"You can hold him Dear"

Him, it was a boy. A beautiful boy.

Carefully she passed the baby to you, you took it looking at him with so much love and care. You could not believe how something so fragile and cute could be here right now.

"Hello Little One...im your mom. Im sorry I was not here when you arrived"

The baby opened his eyes revealing deep dark ones, it did not scream at first reaching to touch your face with his small hand.

"Babys knows their mother" The nurse said smiling as she saw how you rocked the small kid a tiny smile on your tired face, and a few tears in your eyes.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Turns out someone from the staff found you outside unconscious and they took you into emergency care fast. Your vital signs were stable but they were still worry over your baby and the low amount of iron you had.

The first week you were in intensive care, the doctors and nurses checking you every hour, making sure you were progressing for good and so was your baby.

However, things got complicated and they had to proceed with a emergency cesarean when some tests came out wrong. You and your baby were in vital danger and that was the only option.

Your baby was born premature, being 2.5 kg low birth weight, it was took to special care since you were still unconscious and recovering from the surgery.

Luckly your baby started to gain weight as soon as they started to feed him with special formulas, it soon got good color and all his still under developing organs were alright.

It was safe to say that by the time you woke up your baby was healthier than you. Did you care ? Of course not, you would give your life for him.

Breast feeding him was easier than what you did initially thought. And everybody was happy that your baby was so eager to be natural feed. It was important for mother-baby bond.

Days went on, the Hospital where you were was close to the coast town you once lived. You were confused and wondered how you had ended up there. Last thing you did remember was eating food under the watchful eye of a guard then nothing.

You were suprised by the visit of your Friends from town, someone from the hospital had contacted them since you had no parents alive and your brother was not responding.

Even the bar owner from where you met In-ho came by, to scold you like a old father. How could you ran away ? They were a small yet powerfull town and they protected their people.

During these days lots of things happened.

You discovered that your debt was all paid, your brother was found in another country and was now paying for what he had done. You were not interested in the details of that.

Your original house, the one from the town was still under your name and clean as if someone had been keeping check on it. But no one knew a thing.

Once you were free from the hospital and at home with your baby you discovered another thing.

When going out to buy groceries and baby food, you checked your account only to see so many zeros...hell you almost fainted there.

But you did not win, then why ? Was this their way of compensation ? You were repulsed by it and for months did not touch the money till it became impossible to keep going without doing it. You could not work yet and the others insisted on you resting.

Life was once again slow...like all of what had happened was a nightmare. Something you had made.

Did you go to the police? No. You could only imagine what they would think if you ever decided to talk, and you wanted to keep your baby safe.

Oh your dear son...it had his father's eyes and your hair. A perfect and beautiful mix. You would cry at night thinking on him. In-ho....who could not met his son, and your son that would grow up without a father.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Jun-ho stood besides In-ho part of him wanting nothing but to kill his own brother and other to...well he was still deciding on the first one.

"You shot me! Without a dam care" Jun-ho said to his older brother who just moved his gloved hand like it was nothing.

"You left me no choice, it was to keep you safe..."

"Thanks to you I lost my job because no one would fucking believe me"

"And you blame them?" In-ho asked "You are still a naive kid, but you are my family and my blood..."

"Why let Seong Gi-hun live? Why me ? You killed the others, the team..."

"Because, there is a small balance I have to keep" In-ho said voice cold and eyes sharp "I cant stop this. Its a never ending circle, its not up to me or you. Or anyone, it goes far beyond that"

"I still dont understand...what makes you think I wont-"

"I have a favor to ask you" In-ho cut his younger brother off, who gave back an incredulous look.

"Really? After everything, you have the face to ask me for a favor?"

"You have a nephew" In-ho started pulling out the pic of a woman and a small kid, a few months old. "I met her once, then here again" He smiled saddly at the memory "Such a cruel fate...but I loved her, and him.." His finger passed over the photo.

"...You must be kidding me" Jun-ho said letting himself fall besides him in the dark couch "You- Do you realize how fucked up this is ? And what ? What do you want me to do ?"

"Check them for me. She does not have a family, and im dead to her-"

"Oh so you lied" Typical of him.

"Yes, it was for the best. Thats why im asking you to check on them. To be there for them. I dont care if you hate me but they, they deserve a family and I cant give them that"

Jun-ho pressed his lips seeing his older brother show a vulnerable side that was so...odd. So strange to see.

"Let me see them" Jun-ho asked looking at the pic, well various pics. You were smiling in most and the little baby looked healthy. He could not help but feel a jump at his heart, this kid was his nephew....even if his brother was far from perfect...He was right. Not you or the kid had the fault. And if he was the only family you two could get then he would do it.

"Fine, but im not doing it for you but them" Jun-ho accepted giving the pics back.

In-ho nodded taking a black envelope and passing it to him.

"What is this?" Jun-ho asked taking a peak inside.

"Your new name for when you met them, I never told her my real name. And some background so you dont go there without a reason. It would be too strange and last thing I want its to scare her"

Jun-ho took a deep breath opening the envelope getting ready to read and memorize his new identity.

Things you do for family.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

One year passed. Your life was back to normal. Your dear son grow up everyday,  triying to give him everytning you could and be the best mom.

Reading different books and being helped by the older woman from town was like heaven. You could carry your life on your own.

Your Friends loved your son, the amount of gifts he would get each time they visited...you had to tell them to stop it.

There was the money too. While you could live your life without having to work you decided you wanted to do something with it. And after long talks and hours you finally decided what to do.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

One morning you were just there, the TV on with a kids program as you studied some pappers. A knock at your door took you by suprise.

Slowly you got up and went there, still unsure but the person behind the door knocked again this time faster.

Jun-ho stood outside your door. Anxiety and fear on him. He had read your file and his background multiple times. But the idea of finally meeting you and his nephew....scared him a lot.

He knew he was not his older brother...knew he would not fill a place he had left. But he also wanted to be there for you and his newphew, after seeing how much you loved the kid...

The door opened and a heavy silence fell between both of you.

Jun-ho saw it all, the suprise on your face and the look of small recognition  over him. Even if him and his brother were not twins they did share genetics and by what he had read about you, you were not stupid, he was sure you were putting together the pieces by now.

"Hello" He paused not sure how to continue, even if he had prepared himself for this moment for so long.

"Hello...may I know who you are ?" You asked already blocking the door. Your eyes went over his face, taking the small details as your brain slowly connected him with In-ho.

Could it be ?

"Im Oh Jun-ho...In-ho's younger brother" He said the fake name with centrain disgust but hide it behind a smile.

"Younger brother ? He...he never said he had a younger brother..."

Of course not. He shot me that fucker-

"He is-was" he corrected himself "he was a reserved man", He went missing some time ago, the leads I followed made me come here. And some people said they saw you with him one night...

Well that was a lie. He knew that because thats whats he was suppose to say to you.

"Are you...still looking for him?" You asked your voice barely a whisper. Jun-ho could see your shoulder tremble, he knew you thought his brother was long dead, and it broke him to have to lie to you.

If you could only see how much you are hurting her

"Yes, thats why im here. Can I come in? I promise it wont take long. You can ask someone to come if you are not comfortable with a stranger in your home" Jun-ho added knowing you most likely would be a bit admant on letting him in.

And you were. Ever since you came back and saw that account with so much money,  you were always checking over your shoulder. A fresh set of alarms were installed at your house, and you made sure to double check everything. 

It was safe to say you were ready to kill for your son. And even if this stranger had some resemblance with In-ho...

"Wait here" You told him closing the door and texting your friend who worked at the local coffee from town explaining everything

His responde came quick, telling you to bring the stranger there and that he would keep an eye on him and in your son.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Alright lets go" Jun-ho hear you said, he turned around his heart beating fast at the sight of his nephew and In-ho's son.

Genetics did not lie. It did look like him.

"Right....were to?" He asked trying not to eye his newphew too much to not make you suspect that he knew more than what he was telling you.

"There is a coffee shop near, we can talk there"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Jun-ho knew when he was being watched. Years in the police and as a detective have sharpered his senses. Of course he knew the friendly barista was giving him the side eye since you two ordered a drink and took a seat on a table a bit away from the rest.

He also took note of the guy who came up with your drinks. A guy tall, taller than him and fairy muscular, he had give you a polite smile and almost a dead look towards him.

So far he did not feel very welcome. But it was fair. After all you were being lied and he was helping with that lie, so this was the smallest price he should pay.

If anything part of him should be greateful you had someone to look after you. He did read in your file about your parents death and the piece of trash your brother was.

Hell, he hoped he could be a better uncle than him.

"What did you want to talk about?" Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts

He blinked back and nodded, composing himself.

"As I said" He started slowly "Im In-ho's younger brother. He went missing a few months back...and I started to look for him"

Well months was a lie. Years by now.

"I used to be a detective in Seoul, I tried to find him and followed different leads but nothing would came out from it" He made a pause to take a sip from his coffee "Then I found out he was...hiding"

"Hiding?" You asked a bit scared.

So when we met he was hiding? Thats why he left so quickly?

"Yeah" Jun-ho felt his skin crawl back at the lies "I found out he was in debt and was going from city to towns. To avoid them. This was the last place he was seen..."

Jun-ho let the lie set on you. He could see your brain working, maybe trying to pull out dates and reasons too.

"Im sorry I was not faster" Jun-ho continued "I really wanted to find him, I wanted to bring him home..."

He saw you nod and a few tears forming on your eyes.

Jun-ho went to his pocket and pulled out a very old picture. A picture of a different time. When things were more simple.

"This is me and him" Jun-ho showed you "He was a fellow detective, I actually joyned the force becaue of him" Jun-ho said smiling at that time when he was inspired by In-ho.

You took the pic traseing on the younger features of In-ho, he looked happier, less tired and stressed than what you did remember from the games...

"And...you think he-"

The cries from your boy stopped you. You took him out from the stroller to try and shh him down. The little bundle of joy was just boring for what it seems. You checked the time and saw that his feed time was still for another hour.

"Sorry to ask but...that baby" Jun-ho started not really knowing how to proceed.

He saw you pull the baby closer to you, like you were trying to protect him from the world. Or maybe from him.

"I-" You took a deep breath calming yourself and your baby down. "Its true what you know. I did met your brother. We met one night at the local bar. The one near the docks. We passed the night together but he was gone when I woke up" The words died in your throat as you remember all the times in the game and the soft moment during Migle. When he was able to touch your belly and talk to his kid. "I discovered I was pregnant, but for personal reasons I left this town for some time"

Jun-ho did know. It was scary how much he knew but he faked that this was all new.

"My brother left a debt on me. I had to work in Seoul to pay it off. I was then able to return here. If In-ho was here during that time...I cant known. I was not here. Im sorry I cant help you more"

Like In-ho had told him, you would most likely not mention the games, the money you got, or the fact that you believed he was dead.

Jun-ho nodded and a few minutes of silence passed between both of you. Each one with their own thoguhts.

"I never got your name Miss.."

"Oh...its (Y/N)" You responded being too caught up to even think of that.

"And your son's name..."

"In-ho" Jun-ho felt his heart fell "I named him after his father"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Even if the start of the conversation was tense and full of doubts on your side. The more you talked to Jun-ho the more relaxed you got. He showed you some more pics of him and In-ho and even shared some stories from when they were young.

It helped you to imagine how he was and how he could have been if he was outside with you and your son.

"I dont want to interrump in your life" Jun-ho had said as both walked together to your home "But I cant ignore the fact that I have a nephew...and if you let me I would love to be part of his life. I dont want to replace In-ho, I know I could never do it"

You looked at Jun-ho's eyes for any indication of a lie or ulterior motive. But found nothing, just a Man, a brother lost in the look for his older brother and now finding out that he was an uncle.

At the end your kid was an extension of In-ho, and you could not blame Jun-ho for wanting to be part of his life. If anything it was quiet cute and a noble wish.

"I...I dont mind if you are part of his life. Well our lives. I cant say im kind on going to Seoul but-"

"No, thats fine. I can work with what you are more comfortable" Jun-ho said remembering the strong emphasis his brother had made on pulling your needs first.

"Thanks, its a city that just brings back bad memories..."

Jun-ho nodded once more. He took out his phone and offered it to you.

"You can put your number..or I can give you mine. You dont have to save it just..."

"I will give you mine" You softly said pulling your contact information and giving it back. "Do you plan on staying more days at the town?"

Honestly? No. Jun-ho was already planning on leaving to rest in the next town and then go back to his brother.

But...a few more days could not hurt...

"Yes..I think I have a reason to stay for a few more days" He said smiling at the baby.

You smiled back then after giving it a long thought asked "Would you like to hold him?"

"Really?" Jun-ho asked being taken back so much he did take a step back and felt dumb for it.

"You are his uncle...I trust you will not let him fall" You said getting your kid who blinked at you giving a soft smile

"Never. I would never hurt him" Jun-ho said with maybe more force than needed.

When he felt the baby in his arms he felt so much. The little thing looked at him, curious on who this stranger was.

His little hands went to touch his shirt and Jun-ho could not help but smile. It did resemble the old baby pics his mother had of him and In-ho and in a way it felt wrong that he was holding his son before him.

But at the same time. He felt a deep connection, call it genetics, call it love, whatever it was Jun-ho did swear there that no harm would ever come to this kid. Or you, even if you deserved more than a lie. He would make sure you and your kid were safe.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

4 Years Later

Laughted filled the kid's park as some ran playing tag and others pulled their friends in the hammocks.

Your son, now five years old was lost in a game of tag with other kids from his school. Part of his hair flew in the air under his hat as he smiled when he was tagged and went for another kid.

You watched it from a near bench. Your work being flexible in hours was a plus when it came down on passing time with him.

"Mom" His sweet voice called as he came running with a bit of sweat. The summer was soon coming and the heat was just staring.

"Yes In-ho?" You asked adjusting the hat on his head. After years you have been able to say the name without it hurting that much to the point of hold back tears.

"Yejun and the others wants to go to the near store to get ice cream, pelease mom can I go too?"

You knew he was begging to go alone with his friends. Even if you knew everybody at the Town and Jun-ho had been a presece on his life and yours that made you feel less lonely and safe...you still got worried over him. Like any mother would.

"Alright" You said giving him a bit of money "But stay close to Yejun, you think you can do that little one?" You asked smiling at him.

"Mom! Im five now" He said taking the momeny and blushing "But yes! I wont separate from them"

"Thats my son" You said seeing him go off with Yejun and the others.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

A few months back on a different location:

In-ho stood over a big map, the island map and the new games that would be incorporated. It demanded new structures and more space. But after the last ones he needed to make this ones better.

The room was filled with soft jazz as he looked over the map and then at the games, a headache forming.

"Too much work for you?"

A voice he thought he would never hear in a situation like this one asked mocking him.

In-ho did not turn when Gi-hun entered the room, wearing clothes that resembled his own. The shaped mask removed.

"Its thanks to you that I have to make this games better" In-ho bite back getting a laught from Gi-hun

"The VIPs did not like seeing two lovers die last game and lose to me?" He asked getting a sound from In-ho

"Of course not. They are greedy pigs we both know it" In-ho responded turning back to look at Gi-hun.

If anyone would have told him that ex-player 456 and him would work together at the island In-ho would have actually laughted because the idea was absurd.

But here they were now. Usually Gi-hun was more on the security part. Kind of funny since he once wanted to end the games. But he also took a big part on picking up who the different recruiters have to to for.

"What do you want?" In-ho finally asked knowing Gi-hun would prefer to be on his part of the island than with him.

"I was just passing and seeing the calendar" Gi-hun said taking a seat. "The deadlines are close and your progress has been...rather slow"

"Im working on it. I will have it" In-ho said giving him his back again.

"I know its because of that woman and your kid. The kid's birthday is coming right?"

"Careful with what you say" In-ho said now fully turned killing Gi-hun with a simple look. But Gi-hun was not affected by it.

"You know, I did suspect you two were closer than what you two let out during the games...but to think you were the father.."

"Get to the point Seong" In-ho grunted

"I have a daughter too. She its in America as you know. Everyday I ask myself If i did the right thing getting back here and not going to her..."

In-ho said nothing already feeling where this conversation was going.

"But I change. I was never a good father. I tried but it was never enough. And after the first games..I was a mess. I could not see myself raising her. No after what I have done"

The jazz music played for a few seconds before he continued

"But its different with you. (Y/N) met you after you did win and while you were the only one moving this games. You two managed to connect and even create a life"

"She thinks im dead. And its better that way" In-ho said trying to even convince himself

"Dont you miss her ? Or your kid ? Dont you ever think on going to them ?"

Of course he did. Multiple times. The first two years were hell for him. Getting updates from Jun-ho about you and his son. His son who you have named after him. He did play the idea of going to you, maybe telling you everytning...but he was also scared. How would you react to it ? Knowing that after everything he was alive and on top of that he was the one behind the games ? No. He could never do that to you.

"Of course I miss her, I miss both of them. But seeing me would only make her miserable. She has my brother to help her out and my son has a great uncle. They dont need me"

Even it hurted so much to say it.

"Im just saying, I believe you have a chance. Your situation with her may be....complicated but if there is love then there is a chance"

"Since when did you become a psycologist?"

Gi-hun just laughted but without meaning it. Standing up he acomodated his clothes back.

"Im just saying, you may live in misery the rest of your life if you dont do something"

"Get out" Were the only words Gi-hun got in response.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Present time:

In-ho ran behind Yejun and the others, ice cream in hand.

"Cmon run faster!!" Yejun called over his shoulder and In-ho tried to without letting his ice cream fell.

A hard air breeze hit him on the face pulling out his hat.

In-ho watched it flew back, running towards it. It was a hat Jun-ho his uncle had got him. He could not afford to lose it.

Plus you would be pissed and would remove his game rights for a week at least.

Just as he was about to pick it up another hand a bigger one did.

Both In-ho's looked at each other. One not knowing the connection they did share and the other with the hear up in his throat at the sight.

Yes He had seen the pictures, but there was nothing that could compare on seeing his son on the flesh. He had his eyes and your hair. Being a perfect combination of both of you.

"Sir...thats my hat. Can I please get it back?" In-ho asked keeping a safe distance from the strange man.

In-ho smiled nodding offering the hat back, his son eyed him for a moment then took it making sure it was well put on his head.

"You should not lose it. Its a good hat" In-ho said getting a look from his son who gave a bow back.

"No I wont, thanks Sir!" He responded bowing

"I dont think your mother would like you losing it"

He saw his son's eye get bigger and he almost laughted at it.

"N-no, she would hate me for that"

"Hate its a strong world. She would be angry but im sure it would pass" In-ho said now a full smile on his face.

"...Yeah but she wont let me play videogames if I lost it" He hear his son whisper. He also took notice of the ice cream now starting to melt. He pulled out his wallet and handed some wones to his son who did not move.

"Your ice cream is melting, this is so you can buy a new one"

"Mom says to never accept things from strangers that everything has a price" His son responded making him smile even more. 

"Your mom its very intelligent, if I tell you my name would you accept it?"

He saw his son brain go wild but at the end nodding.

"Im Oh In-ho"

If his son's eyes could get any bigger then these would be out of his face. His mouth open in suprise.

"You....you and me- we"

"IN-HO!! IN-HO DEAR WHERE ARE YOU" The desesperated screams from you cut his son's words off.

"MOM!!" In-ho called turning back seeing you going towards him with Yejun and Yejun's mom behind.

"What did I tell you about staying with Yejun?" You asked checking him for any injury "What happened ? Why did you got separated?"

"A strong wind took my hat and then this man returned it and even offered me money to buy ice cream since mine is melting-"

"Men? What men?" Yejun's mom asked looking around

"What? He was right...there" In-ho said to a now empy space with only some wones on the floor now.

"We should go back. I will tell the police to check this zone" Yejun's mom adviced you taking his own kid's hand.

"Yes, lets go In-ho"

"But mom! The Man and I had the same name!!" In-ho said all too happy to notice the look on your face.

"What..."

"Yes!! He told me his name was In-ho too, and that since I knew his name I could take the money"

For a few seconds you did not move or say a thing. It could...no it could not be. Maybe it was another men with the same name.

"Lets go In-ho. I will get you another ice cream on the way home"

"But mom the money..."

"Leave it, and you are grounded"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

For your son that day was lost in his memory like many others. For you it was a day that made you get hope back. Hope that maybe just maybe In-ho was alive and because of the danger he was not showing himself.

But even if that was the case. Time passed, and never a thing like that one happened again.

Jun-ho had listened to your rant that same night on the phone trying to calm you down while thinking that he would kill his brother. He came next day as a suprise visit for In-ho but it was to make sure you were alright.

And so, four more years passed. Your son now ten years old full of life. A top student, a kind soul.

He was now able to go on his own between home, school and your flower shop.

Yes, after lots of goes and backs you managed to start your own flower shop. It did take time but you were glad you did. It was the only one in the town and was near your house and In-ho's school.

Jun-ho had said it was fitting for you. He was there during all the tedious process till the big opening.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"I will be going for his birthday" Jun-ho said to his brother in his aparment in Seoul.

"He will be ten by now" In-ho whispered drinking some beer Jun-ho had.

"Yes, (Y/N) planned a big party for him" Jun-ho said smiling at your different ideas

"She is a good mother" In-ho said smiling looking at the empy glass

"...You should go"

"Werent you the one who did threat me last time?  If I did show myself again ?" In-ho asked

"Thats because you ran away like a coward. (Y/N) was paranoid for days and her mental state got bad"

"Yes, thats why its better to go on like this"

"Really? Is this what you want? See your kid grow up from the shadows?"

"Jun-ho.."

"Listen I know, what you do is dangerous and you lied to her. But now its Gi-hun who does most of the things at the Island. You are there more like a face of sorts"

"Jun-ho I lied to her. She thinks im dead"

"I know. But so did I. I lied to her to help you. But I know her, I have know her for the past nine years. She still loves you, and I dare to say she still waits for you to return to her"

"She is good, but she wont ever forgive me.."

"Thats were you are wrong. Will she be angry? Yes, and with reason but will that anger be bigger than her love for you? No. Trust me on this. That woman...she loves you too much. You dont deserve her"

"I know"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Uncle!!" The voice of In-ho sounded between the laught and other kid's voices.

Jun-ho smiled, seeing how tall he had got. Each day he looked more and more like a perfect mix of you and his brother.

"Hello Sport" Jun-ho called back messing up his hair.

"Stop it! Mom does this enough" In-ho said separating and re doing his hair.

"Does that mean you dont want your birthday gift  ? Directly from Seoul ?" Jun-ho asked crossing his arms and smiling when he saw the quick change in expression.

"No-no!! Of course I want it" In-ho said taking Jun-ho's shirt and seeing behind his back. "Where is it?!!"

"Wait wait, your birthday its tomorrow" Jun-ho said pulling him away but still smiling "Why dont we get some ice coffee for your mom and some ice chocolate for you?" He asked and his newphew nodded.

"Yes! Mom said there is someone getting married next town and they left her tons of work" In-ho started to say walking towards the coffee store knowing the route by memory with Jun-ho besides him.

"Really? And she can handle it alone?"

"She hired someone! Not sure who he is, does not talk much. Dark hair and kind of tall"

Probably someone In-ho himself sent Jun-ho tought rolling his eyes

"Uncle?"

"Mhm?"

"Are you upset?" In-ho inoccent voice asked "I- mom says we need to look out for these who care about and I dont want you to feel bad" In-ho said looking to the side.

Jun-ho smiled, his heart doing jumps at his sweet nephew. It did seem that he had got your caring personality.

"Im fine Sports. Dont worry, lets get you that ice chocolate and a drink for your mom"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

This is a bad idea. In-ho's mind said as he walked the streets down where your store was. You should go back, nothing good will come from this.

In-ho stood just a few meters away from your shop. He sweet alluring smell of the different flowers hitting him.

He saw the guy he had sent to help you (not that you needed to know that) get out with lots of boxes and putting them inside a ban. He drove off. In-ho knew it.

It was now or never, the last chance.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

You moved around the back of the store. Checking different recipes and dates. The weeding next Town have proved to be a challenge for you. So much you had to hire someone to help you out.

But things were going good. Even if some days your body hurt from moving so much. Or your fingers tremble from making the different flower arrangements.

It was worth at the end, seeing the happiness in others. It gave you a sense of...comfort, and part of you liked to think that In-ho watched over you. Specially when you tended the greenhouse right next to the store. The natural smell and the connection with the dirt...it felt good. It grounded yourself.

You would close your eyes and imagine that he was standing there. Just watching you work with a rare yet soft smile, one that was saved only for you.

"Mom? What are your favorite flowers?" You kid had asked when he was seven years old while you two planted some seeds.

"My favorite flower...and from where comes the question?" You asked back passing him something to clean himself up.

"Well...I like games. And animals, but I have a favorite one...and you like flowers"

"So I must have a favorite one then?" You smiled and he nodded

"Well....I think my favorite ones are Iris..and do you know why?"

He said no and you explained.

"There is a thing, called Language of Flowers, and in them Iris means Hope. I believe its a good thing to have"

"But we studied languages at class and that was never mentioned!" In-ho said somehow offended by the fact that such a thing was never teached to him.

"Oh my dear, I can teach you if you want" In-ho agreed almost getting up to go for some papper and pens but you stopped him.

"Shower first"

"But mom-" A single look from you made him stop "Alright"

A few weeks passed, while you were at the store In-ho entered running, almost knocking a few flowers.

"In-ho! No running inside the store" You said getting up and going towards him but he ignored you pulling out his notebook.

"A chrysanthemum Mom!! You are a chrysanthemum" In-ho said signaling a drawing of the flower then an arrow and a silly draw of you.

"What..."

"Because, chrysanthemum means eternal beauty !! And mom, you are beautiful and eternal" In-ho said showing you the meaning under the draw.

You cried hugging him.

"Mom? Are you...crying?"

"No Son...im just happy. Im just really happy.

The sound of the door opening indicating that a new costumer have arrived made you came back. Not hearing your son or Jun-ho's voice let you knew it was not them.

"One moment please!" You said giving the flower arrangement its final details, the white and pastel yellows giving the cala flowers its final touch.

You left it there and went to the front moving your hair, to try and look less of a mess.

"Welcome! How can I help you-"

Your world stopped. The air in your lungs vanished and your vision went from zero to thousand. A few tears forming.

There was no way, you blinked, maybe you were seeing things again.

But no, there he was. In the flesh. Chest raising and falling indicating that he was alive.

Your In-ho, the Man you loved.

"Hello (Y/N)...we meet again"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Notes:

ITS FINALLY HERE!! THE END OF THIS SERIES. Thanks a lot for these who read this since part one and waited till this end. I had a hard personal time but was able to pull it out!! I truly hope you like it.

And if you are reading this after you read this in one go Thanks too!!

This was my first series. I never really planned on making one. I wanted it to be two parts but I kept adding things. And then the ending got longer as my brain gave my more ideas.

And yes I used flowers for meaning, I google them! So if something is wrong...well sorry.

Questions you may have:

Is this really the ending?

A) YES!! This is the ending. Its happy or sad ? Not even I know, I would call it bittersweet.

Would you ever write more for this?

A) If I do its going to be pieces of them as family but nothing complex.

What was In-ho doing these nine years?

A) Working as the Front Man and being too scared too approach the love of his life. But he kept a close eye on her.

Why is Gi-hun now helping with the games?

A) Easy, because its a fanfic and I wanted that end for him. Besides i feel like it fits him. He is too broken to go back to a normal life.

The guy (Y/N)'s hires is the guard from S2 EP7 ?

A) Well he dies in canon but you can think its him but older!!

Did Jun-ho felt romantic feelings for (Y/N) at some point?

A) Up to you to decide! I dont think (Y/N) would ever move from In-ho so I can assure you. She never slept with Jun-ho or had any interest in him as a romantic partner.

What happened to (Y/N)'s brother?

A) Up to you! But he never shows again in her life and In-ho Jrs does not know about him.

Did my favs survive the games?

A) Again, up to you!!

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Tags:

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@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting

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[rec-flies-away]

The 0-10 pain scale us relative, though. A pain that makes you cry and struggle to think isn’t a 2, it’s 6-8 somewhere.

0 is when you feel like you have no pain. If that sounds hard to conceptualise, you might always be in pain.

1 is a faint background pain that you only notice when you think about it, and that’s really easy to ignore. A lot of you wouldn’t call this a pain. At 1, people might use words like ‘uncomfortable’ or ‘a bit annoying’ instead of pain.

At 2-3, it gets harder to ignore, but it’s still tolerable. You can still think normally and go about usual routines, but it’s more mental effort to ignore the pain.

At 4-5 the pain is getting distracting. Your thoughts start occasionally being interrupted or clouded by pain. You’re not really ignoring the pain anymore, just accepting its existence as background noise while trying to continue with other stuff. At this point several normal routine activities get affected, but it’s still tolerable.

6 is completely impossible to ignore, the pain is no longer background noise, but instead actively bothersome at all times. This is the beginning of untolerable levels of pain. At 6, usual activities and function is definitely impaired, but you’re not completely knocked out.

7-8 are more powerfully bothersome, impair your usual activities severely, and feel unmanageable. It’s normal to get a bit frantic at this level, whether that’s repositioning a lot to relieve it, trying everything that might help, or just having your thoughts race as your mind struggles to deal with the overwhelming pain.

9 stops all activities because the only thing that exists in your mind is the pain, what you might do about it, and immediate important basic needs/problems. 9 overpowers all other thought processes, and it usually gets harder to string words together. You might feel a bit like your body tries to move uncontrollably in response to the pain, but you can probably still somewhat control yourself if you really have to.

10 completely utterly consumes your mind, body, and emotions. If your body reacts with movement to the pain, you’re helpless to control it - you might drop to the ground, uncontrollably wither or spasm, squirm, scream, all kinds of basic body impulses can happen, and you won’t be able to control or resist them. At all. 10 dominates your whole world, there is nothing else than you and your pain. All activities are way out of the question, and even basic needs are pushed aside, not a priority. 10 is so extremely intolerable that it either passes quickly, or someone helps you - if neither happens, you’re going to either pass out or enter a very fucked up mental state that no person should be forced into.

The scale is relative.

But what about when a pain started as an 8, but over time you learnt to kind of push it into the back of your mind and go on with your day? That’s a normal process of learning to live with chronic pain, unfortunately. And some of you will hate to hear this, but that means your 8 is no longer an 8. You adapted, and the same pain that started as an 8 became a 6.

This is what adjusting to chronic pain means. Your scale shifts.

That doesn’t mean you need more points on the scale, because the scale was always subjective and relative. But it does mean you need to use some clarifying statements when advocating for yourself.

‘My 6 isn’t like your 6, when I say 6 it’s a very intense pain that most people would feel as an 8.’

‘I worked hard to learn to live with it, and my scale shifted. I still need your patience, it still takes a lot out of me.’

‘When this pain started, it was an 8 on most days and peaked at 9 during flares. While the pain feels the same still, it hits me more as a 6, with 5 on good days and flares at 7.’

‘My goal is pain that I can actually ignore, instead of living with the constant distracting background noise. My goal with treatment is getting this pain below 4.’

‘When I say my pain is a [number], what I mean is that it’s [level of distracting], [amount of inpairment], [change to thoughts and voluntary movements].’

You aren’t at 9 of you’re going about your daily routines like always. Another person feeling the same pain might be at a 9, but you’re not. Not anymore. You learnt, adapted, adjusted.

You are an amazingly adaptive being, and learning to live with higher levels of pain is an impressive feat and skill. That’s what doctors mean when they say ‘course in coping with pain’. You figuring it out on your own is a good thing, even though the circumstances suck.

Doesn’t mean you deserve intense pain living at the back of your head all the time.

You can and should ask for help to get your pain down into ignorable levels, which is 1-3.

My ignorable pain might be somebody else’s 7, and that’s just how it is. The scale accounts for that by being relative and subjective.

And if you’re crying in pain, it’s not a 2. That’s at least 6. If you’re biting your hand in despair to make a toothache stop, don’t call it a 3, that’s devalidating yourself. That’s at least 7, likely 8 or 9. If you can’t think anymore due to a pain from an injury people claim doesn’t hurt much, don’t just say that you can’t think from a 3. Find the point on the scale that fits your subjective experience.

This goes both ways, guys.

If your tolerance is low, you hit higher numbers faster.

If your tolerance is high, you stay at lower numbers for longer.

It’s inherently subjective and treating it as anything but subjective is going to get you misunderstood, and that not only sucks but also can negatively affect your healthcare.

It’s okay to have low pain tolerance.

It’s okay to cry because your pain is at a 2 out of 10.

It’s okay to have higher tolerance for certain types of pain and lower tolerance for others.

It’s okay to be upset that your pain makes you dissociate, but not know any other way to deal with it.

Chronic pain is awful, period. Everyone who deals with it deserves compassion.

[vidavalor]

"is, and always has been"

In 1.01, The Voice of God said:

Everyone knows that the best place for a clandestine meeting in London is, and always has been, St. James' Park.

Visually, as she's narrating, we see a lot of indication of the type of clandestine meeting to which she's referring being those between intelligence officers, yes?

St. James' Park in Good Omens is swarmed by background characters of people trying to look casual on park benches with newspapers and briefcases and every type of fun, spy movie cliche there is. Our main characters are also spies on different sides of a conflict so we're definitely getting the surface-level vibe of espionage here pretty easily...

...but that's when it's important to note the inclusion of the "is, and always has been" in her narration.

This gives the audience permission to bring into the story the full history of St. James' Park in London when taking into account her meaning. It's encouraging people who do not know this history to go look it up and apply what they learn to the story. [Many of you likely already know this park's history but I have seen a lot of indication in posts that many do not so that's why I made the post.] The line in The Voice of God's narration is worded in such a way that we don't actually fully understand her meaning unless we know more about the history of St. James' Park.

One does not have to do a ton of digging to get the gist of what's being referenced here, though. It doesn't take long with even just the most cursory of skims-- using only the park's entry on Wikipedia as a source, even-- to find this relevant bit of info:

While Charles II was in exile in France under the Commonwealth of England, he was impressed by the elaborate gardens at French royal palaces, and on his ascension he had the park redesigned in a more formal style, probably by the French landscaper André Mollet. A 775-metre by 38-metre (850 by 42-yard) ornamental canal was created as evidenced in the old plan. The king opened the park to the public and used the area to entertain guests and mistresses, such as Nell Gwyn. The park became notorious at the time as a meeting place for impromptu acts of lechery, as described by John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester in his poem "A Ramble in St James's Park".[12]

Should one wish to, I can attest that one can find some very entertaining reading material regarding this period of English history with a little further additional research. The general idea, though, is that, in much wilder times in its history than the last few decades, St. James' Park was absolutely competing for the prize of being history's most notorious hookup park.

By taking pains to include St. James' Park's history with the "is, and always has been" part of the line, the park's history is then reflected in what types of clandestine meetings we're discussing. It makes it clear that we're not just talking about spycraft but also about sex.

And what of the immortal characters The Voice of God is discussing? The ones who were alive and in England during this more amusingly debauched period of St. James' Park's history?

Are Crowley and Aziraphale new to the park, having just started clandestinely meeting here a couple of months or years ago, while St. James' Park has been in its modern, more genteel, spy era?

Definitely not is what we're specifically, emphatically, told by The Voice of God. 😂 They've been backchanneling in these woods for quite awhile now...