#sorry if these are bad i am not a good gif maker lmao

[beneath-the-mask]

Durham Date - Morimyu Op3

[mandalhoerian]

Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?

too good for me | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!

🌀 read on ao3!

“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 

You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 

It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?

He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 

He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  

“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.

Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”

“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”

You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 

“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”

“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”

“We don’t really need to—”

“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”

“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”

He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”

You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  

He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 

His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 

You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 

You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 

“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 

Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…

Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 

Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 

He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 

Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 

You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.

"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."

Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.

"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"

You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”

“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 

You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”

“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 

“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 

 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 

"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."

“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”

“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 

“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”

“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”

Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"

“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”

“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”

“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."

He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."

Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"

It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”

“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”

The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”

“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”

God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”

You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 

“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”

Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”

It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”

“Okay. Coffee date it is.”

He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”

“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”

There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself. 

[aenslem]

aslkjdlasjf THIS GD SHOW, argh. i just finished season one, which i thought was a good idea, you know, finish the season before taking a break. *facepalms* i have those annoying things to do again (stupid household chores, every gd day you gotta do things), so it'll be a few hours before i can watch more, but i should be able to watch at least one or two more episodes today, so HOPEFULLY things will be a bit more resolved by tonight x'D

you were so right, there is so much happening, and i think EVERYONE on that gd ship needs a few years vacation after all this x'D

"married divorced remarried and divorced again and still having feelings for each other" asljdalksjda that is so correct, they are just that x'D

it's so fun, they're like "i don't trust him" pretty much all the time, and then Rush is like "so i had a dream" and Young is like "ok, i'll call General O'Neill" and they keep relying on each other so much right now, it's great, and Young risking the whole gd ship to save Rush, after having tried to kill him, what, twice already? amazing ❤

ah, yes, fanfiction ❤ it's so good at casting light on things from different angles, i love that, seeing characters and their motivations from all kinds of different point of views. though, you gif makers do that too and i love it, it's so great to look at different gif makers in the same fandoms and see how you focus different things.

right now i'm pretty exclusively reading McShep fics, but we'll see how that looks once i'm done with sgu x'D if you have any recs, please feel free to share!

btw, i've been trying to remember why i followed you from the start, and i'm pretty sure it's Star Trek, and specifically Spones, which, ALL MY LOVE! but i also want to mention how much i love following someone who gifs a lot of women, i love having more women on my dash! i never finished OUaT back in the days, but all your Regina and Swan Queen gifs are making me want to, and your Michelle Gomez gifs, waah, i do not want to watch CAoS! 😭 but you are kicking me in the butt about finishing Doctor Who too with your gifs of her (i sadly miss most of them though since i have it blacklisted for spoilers), i had no idea she was in it but man did that make me want to watch it when i found out!

okay, sorry that this got so long, even when i'm trying to keep things brief i end up being very wordy. so many things to say!

anyway, i'm gonna go do the things now, the sooner i get them done the sooner i can watch more sgu =D oh, wait, no, you posted something from 1x18 last night! i didn't look at it since i hadn't watched it yet, so i'm gonna go do that first! =D ❤

/Rodney anon

Oh don't be sorry , you can get wordy in my inbox whenever you like :3

You're fast! but why am I surprised, I finished 7 seasons of OUaT in a month lmao.

Well, imagine how it was for those who were watching sgu when it was actually airing, they did not have a chance to go and watch s2 right after s1, and you can :D so other things are not as bad as break between seasons of the show, but yeah, there's always things to do, sucks

askjhdaksjhd 'i just had a very interesting dream' scene is so good, and it so much better when you take it out of context lmao

well, they have to work together, they don't have a choice. you know how things were when he left rush on that planet, eli is smart, and eli was also right

but eli is still not good enough to do all the work, so no matter how much they don't trust each other, they have to work things out and work together and then finally going towards trust and comradery

well, at least they will try lmao

SPONES!!!!!!! SPOOOONEES! they are everything to me!!!!!

well, if you finish ouat and start caos... I am so sorry in advance lmao

I am not sure I can even explain what mess of the shows are those two, I have similar feelings towards both shows, I love the cast, I love some characters, I love women there, I hate the writers :D

Michelle is stunning in caos, there's also Miranda Otto, and they are like my moms, I love them, this show is worth watching just to look at them, but there's also... the rest of the show and plot asjkhdakjdh

same goes for ouat tbh, some characters are great and actors are doing such a good job and then there's whatever was happening in the show, but it;s still fun if you don't take it all seriously.

you will facepalm a lot and you will have an urge to rip your hair out sometimes, but if you try caos, I will give you two good reasons for it

that's it, think about it

okay, but you definitely need to watch doctor who, WATCH DOCTOR WHO!

[jay-wells-writes]

Training (Giles x plus size reader)

Oh my Dear Boudoir Anon, it took some time but I have something for you! and let me tell you that I hate it lmao. Like I love how the end went, but I am unsure about the beginning. BUT I am my worst critic right? Regardless I hope that you enjoy the story hun. 

Gif taken from internet, credit to the maker

It was hard to believe that in the year you moved to Sunnydale you made friends with a group of college students that fought monsters. Of course you made a mistake and hadn’t taken the warning your roommates had told you, about not going out at night. So your first night in a new town and you almost became vampire food. Naturally after being saved you became friends with the group of students known as the Scooby Gang. 

You knew nothing of fighting or monsters so you mainly stayed back at the Magic shop and did research for the group and ran the shop when Giles went out with them. Even if you couldn’t be a great fighter like Buffy, you still asked to be trained and Buffy gave that job to Giles. You should have known she would give the job to Giles, but when you learned it was him you quickly made excuses not to train. You couldn’t help but feel like it would be a waste of his time. And it didn't take Giles long to corner you and find out what the problem was.

"I just don't want to waste your time."

"I do not see me making sure you are safe as a waste of my time."

"Giles, take a look at me and then at the group. When you figure it out then come find me."

You hadn't even turned around before Giles was commenting back.

"How does your weight have anything to do with this?"

"It didn't dawn when I first asked that it would take years to train me. I am so out of shape."

Suddenly Giles was walking you backwards as he removed his glasses to clean them. A move you learned he does when he is frustrated or annoyed. 

"Your size has nothing to do with this, we start off small. We work you towards a goal then make another. Right now I would be happy if you just knew how to shoot a crossbow or any other type of weapon." 

Nodding your head once you took a deep breath as you looked into his eyes.

"Alright Giles. Let's do this."

~~

True to his word Giles started you off on weapons, while also teaching you simple stretches to help loosen your muscles. After about three months, to your surprise, you had become very skilled with a bow. You couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed that through all the training you hadn’t lost much weight. But soon you and the others started to notice that parts of your body were becoming firmer. And naturally you started to gain more confidence.

Coming through the back of the shop you looked around and saw that you were alone. Thinking that Giles was in the front you set down your things and removed your jacket so that you could start on your stretches. Getting lost in your thoughts you realized you had gone through your whole warm up routine and Giles still hadn’t showed up. Grabbing a bottle of water you headed to the front to see what was going on. A quick look around the shop showed that he wasn’t busy and when you turned to the right you saw him sitting at a table with his head in the books. You knew that Giles wasn’t someone you wanted to sneak up on, so as you made your way to him you made sure to speak loudly.

“A new big bad show up that I didn’t know about?”

Turning quickly in his seat Giles turned to look at you. Just like he did anytime he was off on time Giles looked at his watch before he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

"No. No new big and bad. I just got a new shipment of books in and I got caught up on reading."

Leaning against the table next to him you tried to look at the title but Giles was quick to cover it. Because you had been used to rough housing with Xander you automatically reach across him to grab the book. Not even thinking about it as you reached across him, your chest ended up in his face. It didn't dawn on you at first but when you felt Giles breath on your chest you remembered that your workout outfit had changed from baggy clothes to sweatpants and a form fitting tank top. That gave Giles a birds eye view down your shirt. 

Trying not to pull more attention to an already embarrassing situation you slowly pulled back to your original position, and acted as Giles face wasn't just in your chest.

"Why are you hiding the title Giles?"

Standing up and gathering the book and a couple other things Giles began to walk towards the back as he stuttered slightly over his words.

"The book is… well it's about…. You know it really isn't that important. "

"Well we both know that's a lie. If it wasn't you wouldn't have hidden it's cover." Stopping suddenly you couldn't help but place your hands on your hips. "Giles! Are you reading porn?"

Spinning around quickly Giles gave you a brief fish out of water expression before he answered. 

"I beg your pardon! I would not read porn at the shop! NOT that, that's what it is." 

Deciding to pick on him some more you couldn't help but smile as you walked towards him.

"You were so reading porn. Just count yourself lucky it was me that found you and not someone like Xander."

Nodding his head in agreement you heard Giles mumble something about "Never hearing the end of it." Before he snapped back to the present and to you. "The book isn't about porn, but fae magic. Of course I should have known there would have been a descriptive chapter on the not so innocent parts of fae's."

"Ohh does it have pictures?"

"No it doesn't have pictures! I really don't feel we need to be having this conversation."

"Why?"

"Well because you are a young adult and I am your senior."

"Keyword there Giles, adult. I may be younger than you but I am an adult."

If you hadn't been looking at Giles face you would have missed the way his eyes shot down to your chest before quickly looking back up. Even though you pretended not to notice you could help but feel your heart racing at the look Giles had given you. Taking his glasses off, Giles rubbed his eyes and muttered something that sounded like "Yes, how could I forget." Before you could ask him to clarify what he had said Giles was holding his hand, that held his glasses out, as he spoke louder.

"Yes well. Shall we start your training?"

Training felt different today, at first you tried to chalk it up to finally learning some basic defense moves. That the tension was because of you both being in close proximity, but after about 20 minutes you began to realize it was because of what had happened earlier. Until today you never thought about Giles in any way, other than a teacher. Yet you couldn't help but realize how firm his body was for a man his age, how his voice sounded as he spoke softly into your ear, or how he smelled like the incense he sold at the shop. You weren't given any time to really think about it though because teaching weapons was different then hand to hand and this Giles was a bit stricter and he didn't give breaks as often as weapons training. Luckily you got a small break when Giles was called to the front of the store.

Sitting down on the mat you worked on stretching as you watched Giles walking away. You knew the tension was because of earlier and your mind was telling you to let it go. That it was a fluke but your body was telling you something completely different. It has been a while since anyone has shown interest in you. And even though what happened at the table was an accident, his second look and the comment he had made hadn’t been. Age was never an issue for you, in fact you actually liked your men older and you told yourself when you first met Giles that you wouldn't mind a night with him. The question was though, was there anything there or were you just imagining there was? 

By the time Giles had gotten back you figured out that you were going to play a little and see what happens. That if he hadn't been interested he wouldn't have taken a second look. 

"Sorry about that, sometimes I question myself on having Anya helping out."

Chuckling you stood up as Giles made his way back to the middle of the room.

"I have no answer and even if I did I would plead the fifth."

Smiling Giles moved so that he stood behind you. Standing closer he lowered his voice as he moved to place you in the hold you had been working on before being called.

"If you had an answer and pleaded the fifth I have ways on getting it from you."

That sentence alone almost had you wondering if Giles had put a spell on you to read your mind. And he almost caused you to slip up and fall when he tried to take you down. Instead you planted your feet and shifted the way he had told you. Grabbing his arm you stood behind him and twisted it upwards. 

"You can't get nothing if I am the one that's got a hold on you."

Suddenly in what felt like a second Giles had himself out of the hold and was once again standing behind you. With both of your hands pinned in one of his behind your back while his other arm was around your neck.

"Never assume to have the upper hand. Anytime you do that you end up in a position you can't get out of."

"I don't know. I think I can get out of this."

If you were asked about it later you would blame it on his quick breathing in your ear, or how your bodies were even closer together. But having guts, you never had before, you turned your hand slightly and placed an open balm on Giles upper thigh. You could feel him jump a bit, but he didn't release his hold. Instead of moving your hand any more you pushed your ass into Giles as your nails dug slightly into his thigh. You could feel his breath change as he brought his face closer to yours. 

"I am not sure this is a good way to get out of a hold."

Tilting your head back you couldn't help but close your eyes.

"Oh I wouldn't try this with just anyone."

You couldn’t help but shiver when Gile's voice turned slightly darker in tone.

"I should hope not. But please, tell me what you would do if someone was you in this type of hold."

Releasing your hands Giles brought his arm around your waist while he brought the arm around your neck back so that his hand now rested on your neck. 

"Who's to say I would want to get out of this hold?"

Just as you started to move your hand that was still on his thigh. Giles let out the breath he had been holding before pushing into you with his upper body. In a couple of steps he had you at the wall. Using the hand on your hip he turned you around and pressed you into the wall. Using the hand he had around your neck he tilted your head and brought his face towards yours.

"I am very close to casting a spell to see who you really are."

Resting your hands on his chest you couldn't help but run them up and down.

"I will submit to any spell you want. Just to prove I am not under any spell."

"Then what game are you playing."

"No games. Just after earlier I had to see if I was imagining things."

"You mean when you put your chest into my face?"

Laughing you shook your head as you brought one hand down to his waist.

"No. Not then. That was an accident. I am talking about when you took that second look. If you hadn't done that I would have acted like nothing happened."

Almost on que Giles looked down at the top of your breast, while his fingers danced across the top of them.

"I guess having them so close to my face made me realize how beautiful they were and I couldn't help but look again."

For some reason your insecurities came pushing forward and you said the first thing that came to mind.

"There is nothing beautiful on me."

Almost instantly the hand around your neck tightened and Giles pushed his body into yours.

"You are NEVER to say anything like that again. Do you hear? Never again."

Reaching up you lightly touched his hand as you spoke quietly.

"Giles, I am only saying things that have been said to me. And it's okay, it's the facts of life."

You didn't think Giles could get any closer but he did. Slipping a leg between yours he made sure he had your full attention. 

"Fools, the whole lot of them. You are beautiful y/n. Not just your breast, but all of you. And if I am being completely honest, I was looking at you way before today. Today is just the first time I am admitting it to myself."

You knew there was no fighting Giles on this so you just smiled as you ran your fingers down his cheek. 

"So what do we do now?"

Grinning down at you Giles quickly moved you so that you were pressed into his back once again. While his breath tickled your ear.

"Right now we are doing nothing. You on the other hand, need to get out of this hold. And if you can do it without any tricks……. Let's just say I have some ideas on rewards."

[kaminobiwan]

hush

pairing: captain rex  x  reader

summary: you witness a side of Rex he never wanted you to see.

warnings: nightmares in this one loves, and mentions of death in flashbacks. also the f bomb plus other bad words not found in canon

a/n: more?? angst? I’m sorry??? this was requested by the harbinger of feelings™ herself, @morganas-pendragons (who is partially to blame for all my sad ideas lately, thank you I am LOVING this chaos), as well as an anon who wanted to see Rex being calmed down. the anon request was actually from wayyy back from my first milestone celebration, and the prompt word was ‘hush’, for which this fic is named. I am so sorry that took so long lmao and I’m still not done with all of them. but at least this time, it’s hurt AND comfort?

takes place a little while before Lost in Translation. hope you enjoy the return of Rex :-) bloop here’s my taglist

Of course, the first time you witness one of Rex’s nightmares, it’s one of the worst ones of his entire life.

He’d curse the Maker if he thought there really was one. At least, one that listened to clones.

But not even a Jedi could have consoled him after seeing the expression on your face when you found him thrashing around in his bed. The way your eyes shone with pitiful understanding as you’d realized why he would always keep his hair short, no matter what, from the way he’d been tearing at his skull.

Before this, he’d been having a surprisingly good day. Torrent Company’s recon mission had been a success, and back at base, they’d seen Fives and Echo — fresh from ARC training and beaming with new armor yet again. Fives had protested indignantly at being called an ‘ARC Shiny’ while Echo had promised to buy Rex a drink the next time they were both on Coruscant, and then he’d dragged you to his room at the end of the night in a rare moment of laughter and flirtatiousness.

He should have known better than to think he’d get away with one full rotation of peace.

The nightmare comes unexpectedly, his muscles seizing as gunfire flashes behind his eyelids. He’s back on Kamino, the attack on his homeworld replaying in his memories.

So many clones had died. Cadets had died.

The image in his mind fast-forwards to the aftermath of the massacre. He’s overturning the body of a brother clad in familiar colors — it’s Colt, unharmed save for a single lightsaber singe through the chest and a faint lip print left on his cheek.

And then, he’s screaming.

It was her, the assassin from Teth, the one that had wormed her way into his psyche and moved his limbs for him like a puppet on string, toying with his sanity as his own appendages betrayed him. She did this.

Colt’s hands suddenly reach up and grab hold of his face, dragging him downwards, and Rex screeches in terror. “Let go! Colt!”

“We fight together,” Colt’s eyes are unseeing, reflecting death, but his voice is directed to Rex nonetheless. “That’s what we said. But where were you, Rex?”

Another body rises next to him, but Rex is too wild with terror to turn. He can’t look at another dead brother. “You’re not real! Stop! Colt, I’m sorry.”

“Rex.” The voice calls his name again, but this time, it changes from Colt’s into someone else’s. Not a clone’s. “Rex! Wake up!”

His eyes fly open, his fallen brother’s hands morphing into your own as he takes in your face, frantic and lamenting. It’s still dark, but not tinged with the red of alarm lights on Tipoca. You grip his face tighter.

“This is real. I’m real.” Your voice breaks as you press your palms to his cheeks, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you to come back to me.”

He can’t speak — can’t even force his lungs to inhale an ounce of oxygen. His chest and throat burn with exertion, but he’s still gasping for air.

“Breathe with me, yeah? Come on, Rex. Breathe.” Where was Colt? Where were the bodies?

He can tell he’s hyperventilating, but it begins to subside as you hum comfortingly and bring his hands to his torso, instructing him to hold his breath and exhale slowly. Your words barely make it to his brain, but he complies numbly, feeling his stomach rise and fall.

“That’s it — there you go.”

Your voice brings him back to earth, and shadows that rim the edges of his vision slowly fade out. You continue to coax him down from the adrenaline of the phantom threat, and his breathing soon evens out.

It was just a dream.

You help him through the comedown for a while longer, making sure he’s still there. As the fragments of reality fall back into place, Rex thanks whoever is listening for your presence.

But as soon as he’s cognizant enough to notice the tears drying on his cheeks, and realize the fetal position he’d assumed in the midst of his thrashing, the panic is replaced with embarrassment, along with something worse.

Anger.

Immediately, he wrenches out of your grip, flinging your hand away in the middle of you stroking his bare back. He registers the hurt that flashes in your eyes, but he’s too irrational to feel anything but disgust — with himself.

You don’t know that, though.

“Rex?” Your gaze is questioning, positively dripping with concern, and it makes him even angrier. He feels like a child.

“Stop that.” He all but growls, and you wince as if he’s struck you. Rather than apologizing, Rex twists his body from you in a half-hearted attempt to hide his storm of horrible emotions. Guilt streaks the red-hot fury that eats at his chest, but he ignores it all. Pushes everything that isn’t cold-blooded indifference away. Get a grip.

Your voice is tentative and small when you speak again — stars, he hopes you’re not crying. He can’t handle that right now. “Stop what, Rex?”

“That look! Stop fucking looking at me like that.” He waves a hand around sharply as he responds, but still doesn’t turn to face you. “I don’t want your pity.”

A sniffle comes from your direction, and Rex shuts his eyes. Fuck. You are crying, and he can tell you’re holding it in as best you can so he can’t hear you.

He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but he can’t help it. Letting you see what’s going on inside his head means dragging you into his mess of a brain, his mess of a life, and you don’t need that. Nobody needs that. You’re already more involved in it than he wanted you to be.

What he needs right now is to be alone. For you to leave, so that he can compartmentalize. He needs the isolation to numb the panic he feels still shaking his bones beneath his skin.

He needs to hide.

But just as he’s about to open his mouth to ask you to get out of his room, you’re shuffling out from under the sheets and standing between his legs, arms on your hips.

“I’m not pitying you, Rex. I’m just worried.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m tellin’ you not to.”

“Tough shit, Rex. You don’t get to decide.” You cross your arms assertively, and he finally looks up at you with similar ire. You’re glaring now, tears gone, but that patronizing compassion is still there. Rex shoves the thought down.

You’re not patronizing him. And yet, he just feels that way.

See, this is why he has to deal with these things on his own.

You call his name again, demanding him to pay attention to you. “You don’t have to wear your heart on your sleeve, Rex, but don’t hide everything all away just because you’re afraid someone might actually care about you.”

His brows furrow defensively. “I’m not —”

“You are. You always do. Because you think you don’t deserve it.” Although you’re speaking softly as to not wake the others in the barracks, your voice is still colored with insistence. Rex would laugh at the contradiction if he wasn’t so shaken. “It’s not up to you to decide what you’re deserving of. You don’t get to tell me how much I should care. You’re the one that needs to stop being so hard on yourself.”

His head lowers as he tries to escape the weight of your words. “I can handle it. I was bred for this.”

“Stop believing that! It’s not fair.”

“Fair to who? You?”

“To you!” You retort, throwing your hands up to accentuate your frustration. “You’re human, not just a clone. If you don’t quit the one-man-army act and open up, you’re gonna explode.” You seemingly deflate, but come down to sit next to him once more. Your hand comes to rest on his, and he doesn’t move it. “How well will you be able to lead your brothers then?”

You’re met with silence, and he can’t think of anything to say to fill it.

Deep down, Rex knows you’re probably right. You sound like Kix, telling him to take care of himself so he can take better care of others, but Rex has never been good at listening to that kind of talk, never been good at cutting himself any slack. He’s not even sure he wants to.

He doesn’t know who he’d become without the responsibility of command.

You squeeze his hand inquisitively, voice probing. “Rex, it doesn’t have to be me, but it has to be someone.” He looks up at you again, feeling drained. He’s tired. “We all want to be there for you. You just…” Trailing off, you search his eyes for any sign of acceptance, and his pupils follow yours as you pause. “You have to let us.”

He knows you don’t have anything left to say, and now it’s his turn to speak. You expect that from him, at the very least. This connection between you, whatever it was, consisted of a give and take. That much, he understood.

Still, it takes him a while to respond.

“I want it to be you.”

Your head tips in question, but you say nothing as you allow him the time to work through what he’s feeling.

“If I open up…I want it to be to you.” He nods as if he’s confirming the thought to himself, and his eyes find yours once more. “Please.”

You stare at him, and for a second Rex thinks he’s said the wrong thing, but then you let out a wry laugh. “If? Rex, you better believe that I’m not gonna quit until you do. In fact, you’re not leaving this bed until you promise you will.”

The mood shifts to a lighter one as you end your threat in teasing, but Rex still feels the seriousness in your statement. Somewhere inside him, gratefulness blooms, but he’s not yet conversationally equipped to tell you that without it sounding wrong to him. So, he places his other hand on top of yours instead.

“Okay.” He breathes. “I promise.”

That earns him a small smile from you, and in his exhaustion, he leans forward, resting his head on yours and clumsily plants a kiss to your eye. Your arms encircle him right away, and he buries his face into your shoulder. Silently, he catches the familiar scent from the fabric you’re wearing, and a smile of his own spreads when he recognizes his blacks on your frame.

“I don’t know how.” Still nestled in your embrace, he croaks out a warning. “But…I’ll try. For you.”

“For you,” you correct him, and he closes his eyes with at the way your affection overwhelms him. “Like I said before. I’ll help you with the rest.”

When he falls asleep again, cradled by you, it’s not a dreamless sleep.

But the dream is a good one.

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )