#win by saving!!!! almost none of them saved the people they wanted

[togairaa]

I keep getting disappointed with each new chapter, and I get my hopes up for the next one, but it hits a new low

[shannonsketches]

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[sy-on-boy]

Damian's not nervous about who will win the right to dance with him. He doesn't care. Obviously.

Except Anya Forger is now lagging behind in the trivia quiz. She rattled off her first few answers with ease (genuinely surprising, how would she know about the milk and his dog? He can't imagine Ewen or Emile would tell her), but now she's struggling and giving out ridiculous answers. Who on earth is Benjerpoop Peeface GooFallo? Is Anya really that stupid? And why is he getting anxious about Anya not winning??

Someone has four points. One more point and this random girl will be dancing with Damian. Damian gulps nervously. Anya only has three points. The next question will determine his fate, and he doesn't trust Anya will know the answers to these highly specific questions—

Wait.

Highly specific question.

Damian can ask a question that only Anya knows the answer of.

Damian is so frazzled that he barely questions why Anya is the only one he wants to dance with. Or the integrity of him helping Anya win. All he wants is to the stop the imminent danger of someone snatching Anya's (rightful?) spot.

Damian raises his hand. "Ewen, can I ask a question to the ladies?"

Ewen looks a bit surprised by how the reluctant Damian is suddenly involving himself. "Sure thing, bossman! It's your dance partner after all. Come up!"

And now Damian's faced with the intense scrutiny of the five girls. Anya's stare seems particularly piercing, but she always has that effect on people. It's almost like she can read minds.

Anya suddenly jolts and looks away like she's nervous. Huh. Right, she's probably nervous because that other girl is one point away. Damian has to think of a highly specific question that the other girl will never know the answer to, and a question that only Anya can answer. It shouldn't be that hard considering they're in the same class and they did a lot of stuff together... Damian blushes at the thought of their extensive history.

But wait! Focus! This isn't time to blush. Except he's not blushing. Totally not.

Damian clears his throat. Everyone is looking at him. They're at question 13— an unlucky number, and coincidentally the number pinned on Anya's dress, so maybe it's a lucky number after all?

"Question 13: name one food in my ration can during the bus hijacking!"

There's a ripple of surprise when Damian mentions the bus hijacking. The other four girls look nervous. That's right, Damian knows Becky and Anya have suitors who admire their bravery during the hijacking, but no one seems to have mentioned that to Damian so far... and that scratches an uncomfortable scar in his heart. Hey, Damian was also involved in saving the class. Why didn't anyone admire his bravery, then?

See, this is a strategic question. None of the other girls seem to care about the hijacking, but Anya was right next to him on the bus. Her best friend's company provided the rations. Moreover, this is about food, and Damian knows how Anya invested is when it concerns food. She'll know the answer. He knows she knows.

In addition, Damian thinks he made the question quite open ended. She only has to name one food. Damian tries to recall them in his head: beef jerky, mints, digestives, hmm, what else...

"Salted nuts," Anya says.

A hush falls over the crowd. Everyone's looking at her, but she's looking at him. Damian's heart does an odd little thump.

"... I remember that because Sy-on boy gave the nuts to me."

Damian wasn't even thinking about that connection. Honestly, he had been so stressed that he could barely remember giving Anya her favourite nuts. Well, more power to Anya.

"That is correct," he says, and he can hear Becky cheer from the sidelines. Suddenly flustered and overwhelmed by how Anya remembers that little detail, Damian steps away and lets Ewen continue with the quiz.

Anya is up to four points, and she's tied with the other girl. That thought makes Damian nauseous. Anya only needs one more point, and they absolutely cannot let the other girl win—

Ewen begins what could be the last question. "Question 14: Which person does Damian love best?"

Damian instantly whips his head towards Ewen, his face beet red. "HUH?!" he screeches. He was already feeling fluttery and jittery from earlier, and now Ewen has to do this? Does his best friend want him to die, huh?!

At least it seems like everyone else is equally flustered. They yell out wrong answers, and Damian feels a rush of relief upon seeing the other girl with four points get it wrong. But wait, she isn't the only one with four points—

Anya presses her button. Her eyes are wide, as clear and as beautiful as glass, shooting a devastating arrow into Damian's resolve.

And before she says a word, Damian knows she knows. From her expression, he can tell she has the correct answer. Because of course she knows him the best out of these girls. Anya Forger, the commoner who stole him away.

He knows exactly what she'll say, and he's almost terrified by how she pinpointed that, but at the same time endlessly relieved that she knows such an important part of him. They're just kids who want their fathers to love them, aren't they? She understands him. She sees through him.

... Ah, why does it feel like Anya can see through all of him except for his heart?

Anya opens her mouth.

"Sy-on boy loves..."

"You," Damian thinks, his inner voice suddenly astronomically soft. "You win."

[holylulusworld]

Not alone any longer

Summary: You try to believe in your blooming friendship with Clark.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, fluff, Lois bashing, Lois is the worst, destruction of a car

Catch up here: Alone again - Naturally

“Clark, you came,” you gasp as Clark stands in front of your home. He’s got a bouquet of daisies in his hands, offering them to you. “I mean, you’re early.”

“We have a date,” he half-laughs. “You remember we wanted to go on a date.” Clark nervously looks at you. “Did you change your mind?”

“No!” You hastily say. “I didn’t change my mind. It’s just…uh… I didn’t know what to wear.” You drop your gaze. “It’s been a while since someone asked me out. I didn’t know where we were going and tried on so many outfits that I forgot about the time.”

Clark flashes you a soft smile. He seems almost shy when you take the flowers out of his hand, and invite him in.

While you look for a vase, Clark looks around your small apartment. It’s nice, cozy and inviting. You’ve got fluffy pillows on our couch, and lots of plushies keeping you company while you try to write.

“I read one of your articles. Uh-the one about the missing cat, and how the owner did everything to find them. It was heartwarming how you described their reunion.”

You awkwardly look down at your shoes. Embarrassed about your meaningless article, you sigh deeply. “You shouldn’t have read that crap. No one does read it.”

“I liked it very much, Y/N,” Clark softly says your name, making you feel warm. You can see the honesty in his eyes when you finally look at him. “You’ve got talent, Blossom. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You shrug. “I’ll never win a Pulitzer Prize, or be as famous as Lois,” you sniffle. “She’s a star, and I’m the dirt under her shoes. Let’s be honest. Out of all the people I know, I’m the loser among them.”

“Y/N, that’s not true!”

You raise your hand and shake your head. “It’s okay, Clark. Why do you think none of my so-called friends stayed in touch?” You wipe your eyes. “Lois only invites me to rub her success and fame in my face. She didn’t even recognize that I left the party. If not for you, I’d be dead, and she wouldn’t even care. No one does.”

“I care,” Clark steps closer to grab your hand. “Not only because I saved you, Y/N. Before, during the party, you caught my eye. You looked as lost as I felt. I sometimes don’t know why I live here, among people who’ll never understand the burden of my powers and origin.”

“Oh, Clark.” You suddenly wrap your arms around him to comfort Clark. The strongest and bravest person you ever met. Running your hands up and down his back, you murmur his name. “I babble about my unimportant life and ignore that you must be struggling too. Hiding your true nature must be exhausting.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. Clark holds you close to his warm chest, feeling his heart beat a little faster. He hasn’t felt a connection with a person for a long time.

“It’s easier now that I got someone important in my life,” he whispers against you. Clark buries his face in your neck and sighs.

“Oh, who’s that? Did you meet someone nice?” You innocently ask, dipping your head to look up at Clark. “I hope they are nice.”

“Blossom, I meant you,” he smiles and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know about my secret for weeks, and didn’t try to take advantage of it.”

“Why would I? You’re a hero, and it’s an honor to know about your secret identity,” you shyly glance up at Clark. “Even though, flying still scares me.”

“I promise to fly carefully with you in my arms.” He smiles when you shy away. You didn’t think Clark wanted to see again, let alone, fly with you again. “I’ll not drop you.”

You giggle when he tells you. “What if you sneeze, and I slip out of your hands? I’ll end up as a pancake on the ground.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Not the red you saw in pictures or videos on the news. No. Worry, fear even. “I never get sick.”

“You never get sick?” You wonder aloud. “Oh, that’s good. I think. I mean, you’re from another world. Makes sense that our diseases can’t harm you.”

“Sometimes I wish that I was a normal guy, with normal problems and a normal life. No one would believe that Superman lies awake at night, dreaming of losing his powers.”

“You do?” you whimper. “I didn’t know you were lonely and sad too.” You hide your face in his chest. “But we are friends now. So, you’re not alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “We are friends now…”

“Lois, what’s wrong?” You gasp watching your friend storm into your home. She huffs and throws her locks back while brushing past you. Lois looks around your living room, sneering as his eyes land on the daises Clark got for you.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” she twirls around to glare at you. “Your life must be extremely shitty if you must go out with my boyfriend!”

“Your boyfriend?” You frown deeply. “I thought you’re single. And I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Clark Kent!” She spats. “You had to date my boyfriend, didn’t you? Just you know, he only feels sorry for you. Pathetic little Y/N, always so lonely and sad, standing in the corner to lure sweet Clark in.”

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you’re getting angry. “You broke up with him over a year ago. And, when he talked to me, I didn’t even know he was your ex. What Clark and I do is none of your business. We are friends and like spending time together!”

Lois wrinkles her nose at the word friends. “Does he know you’re a frigid and emotionally disabled and whiny little bitch? I guess not.”

She raises her hand to slap your face. You flinch and prepare for the impact when something outside your window explodes. Dropping to the ground, you press your hands to your ear as Lois screams in terror. She needs a moment before running toward your balcony.

Ever the investigative journalist, she steps onto your balcony to look down at the sidewalk to see her car got destroyed. It seems like it got cut into two halves. “No, what…” She shakes her head. Lois knows there’s only one person in this world able to cut her car into two halves within the blink of his eyes. “Why would he do this?”

Superman floats high above the sky, unseen. Watching Lois yell at you, he got angry. Even more, when she raised her hand against you, he couldn’t hurt her, so he did the next best thing. Clark sent a warning to her.

“You destroyed her car,” you glance down at the people in the streets. They look like ants as you float above the city. “Why?”

“She wanted to hurt you,” Clark holds you safe in his arms as you cling to him. You’re still scared of flying around with him, but he asked you to come with him so sweetly, you couldn’t deny him. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I got so mad and… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

“I’d smashed her car too if I had any powers,” you give him a cracked smile. “She was vile and mean without a reason. Lois only got mad because we are friends now. She is like a kid wanting her toy back after she threw it away.”

“I’m a toy?” He looks at you in his arms.

“No…that’s not…” you sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way. She’s just…”

“I know, Blossom.” Clark presses his lips to your forehead. “What she said was mean. I couldn’t let her hurt you even more.”

“She’s not wrong,” you sniff. “I’m not good with dates and such. Men usually run for the hills after one date because I get nervous and anxious easily.”

“Y/N, I like you the way you are,” he whispers. Clark dips his head to press a soft kiss on your lips—a short and sweet one to test the waters. You giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I like you a lot, Blossom.”

“I like you a lot too, Clarkie,” you smile at Clark, feeling your heart flutter. “Can you…” You giggle, “Kiss me again?”

You don’t have to ask twice. Clark kisses you again, soft and sweet, while you float about the city. You forget about Lois and the rest of the world. It’s just you and Clark, and that is enough…

Tags in reblog.

[sansaorgana]

Can you write a Buck x innocent reader? Not smutty but maybe Buck finds it endearing how innocent she is?

hiii, thank you both for the requests! this story is the longest one [almost 5k words xd] out of all those "short fics" 😂 because I decided to go somewhere else with the plot this time... 👀 the Reader finds Buck hiding in her barn after his plane was shot down but I don't specify what country it is exactly (one of the occupied ones) 💝 she is sweet and innocent and shy and she saves his life so, like, how can he not be crazy about her? 😁

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

The sound of the American and German planes above you was common these days but it terrified you each time. Living in the countryside had many privileges – like being away from the main bombing targets – but it also could get dangerous when the burning planes would fall down from the sky. Your father was standing outside and watching them carefully, making sure they weren’t coming too close because you’d have to evacuate quickly if they did.

You were standing inside by the window with your mother – both scared and hoping it would be over soon. Then, a sound of loud explosion made you startle as you squealed and hugged your mother closer.

“It’s over,” your father finally went back inside and held you both to help you calm down. “The American plane went down in the forest. I’ve seen the parachutes but it’s none of our business,” he reminded you both.

“If the Germans come, what should we tell them?” Your mother asked. You had never had a plane go down so close.

“We haven’t seen anyone,” he pursed his lips.

Your father hated the Nazis but he also wanted to survive more than anything else. He didn’t want to get involved in anything that would bring death to his family. However, he still hoped the Allies would win.

In the evening you went to the barn as usual to check on your cow and to close it for the night. You approached her and patted her neck to caress her gently. You usually preferred animals to humans. They were so quiet and calm and they didn’t start scary wars with bombing planes, tanks and rifles.

An odd noise made you look around, scared. You were easily startled at anything these days and usually it would just be mice so you tried not to panic.

However, you spotted a few mice nearby and they were not in the same direction the sound was coming from. And the sound was nothing any mouse would make. It was… breathing. Sharp, muffled breaths.

“H-hello?” You asked and you swallowed thickly as you approached the dark corner of the barn where most of the straw was stored.

Your steps were slow and careful and then you saw something moving slightly and you spotted a pair of eyes looking at you… a pair of human eyes without a doubt.

Your whole body froze as your heart skipped a beat and your hands got cold and shaky. There was a man in your barn and you were terrified, not knowing what to do. You wanted to scream for your father but you were scared of what that person would do. You could run away but what if he was faster and would catch you?

“Hello?” He answered in a weak, raspy voice. “Please, don’t be scared,” he added but you kept standing there, petrified. “Do you speak English?”

You swallowed thickly. He had to be an American, you thought. One of those that had been shot down earlier that day. You had heard stories of them showing up to people’s houses like that. The Nazis wanted everyone to contact them immediately when such things would occur.

“I… I do speak English, yes,” you whispered. “My dad’s an English teacher,” you explained and you finally gained the courage to approach the man.

He was sitting on the floor in the darkest corner of the barn and he was holding one of his arms as his face winced out of pain. He was quite young and you could see his golden hair under all the mud and straw.

“Are you alright, sir? You’re American?” You asked.

“American, yes. I’ll be fine, just… Water, please,” he pleaded and you bit on your lower lip, not knowing what to do.

You should tell your father, no doubt about it. But what if your father would call the Nazis? He didn’t like them but he didn’t like the prospect of being killed either.

“I’ll bring you something. You just wait here,” you told him and he nodded.

He was completely at your mercy now, you realised. He gave you his trust, because you could just run out of the barn and call for the Gestapo. He trusted that you wouldn’t do that. He had no other choice.

You sneaked inside the kitchen to make sure your mum would not see you and you grabbed a bottle of milk and some cheese. Then you took a bun out of the bread bin and you went back to the barn.

“Is milk okay?” You asked as you crouched down next to the man to hand him the food. “I also got you cheese and a bun. I’m sorry the bun is not really fresh.”

“It’s more than I asked for… Thank you,” he took the food from you and you watched him eat it like a starving man. You noticed him wincing once in a while and that his shirt was torn on his arm and lots of dry blood around it.

“What happened to your arm?” You asked, quietly.

“I fell down when I landed and I hurt it,” he explained.

“It doesn’t look good. It should be disinfected,” you pointed out.

“I don’t want to be a bother. I will sleep here… if you let me… and I will leave in the morning. I don’t want to be a problem for you and your family,” he promised.

You remained silent. You felt bad for that man. He shouldn’t be travelling in his state and he was an easy target for the Germans in his uniform, especially being slowed down by his injury.

“I have to go before my dad checks on me,” you told him and he nodded.

You closed the barn and went back home with a heart feeling heavy in your chest. You had to tell your father about it and if he’d want to call the Gestapo, you’d just beg him not to.

“Papa, there is something I have to tell you,” you started as he was sitting on the sofa and reading a book. He raised his eyes to look at you and so did your mother, crocheting on the rocking chair.

“What is it, love?”

“There’s an American in our barn,” you announced and your parents looked at each other, terrified. Your father closed the book loudly and put it away. “I gave him some food. He is hurt.”

“You talked to him?” Your father stood up and you took a step back, scared. You were afraid he would get angry at you.

“I’m sorry, he is hurt… And he was thirsty and hungry…”

“You gave him our food? We barely have any!” Your mother was not pleased.

“Just a bottle of milk, an old bun and some cheese!” You tried to explain yourself. “I can skip breakfast tomorrow morning for that,” you offered.

“Enough. No one’s skipping breakfast,” your father furrowed his brow as a deep wrinkle appeared on his forehead. “Let me speak to him.”

“Be careful!” Your mother stood up and followed you both to the front door as she watched you walk towards the barn. Your father was carrying a candle with him.

“I will go first and tell him about you,” you whispered. “He might get scared seeing you and I saw he had a gun.”

Your father nodded and you pushed the door leading to the barn carefully.

“Hello, it’s me again,” you started. “Please, don’t get angry.”

“I am not angry,” you heard a voice from the darkness.

“I brought my dad with me. I had to tell him, I’m sorry… But he won’t hurt you,” you promised. The man did not answer. “Can I bring him inside?”

“It’s his barn. You don’t have to ask me,” he told you and you waved at your dad to come inside.

The candle in his hands made the whole room a little brighter and now you both could see the American sitting by the wall better. 

“Who are you?” Your father approached him as he asked.

“Major Gale Cleven, sir. I was shot down earlier that day,” he explained. “Please, let me stay here for the night and I will leave tomorrow morning. I don’t want to be a problem.”

“You already are, son,” your father pointed out.

“Papa…!” You extended your hand towards him but he shushed you.

“If they find you in this barn, they will immediately know who you are. Come inside,” your father said and you widened your eyes. So did the American Major.

“A-are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, come,” your father handed you the candle and he helped Major Cleven to stand up and they slowly began walking towards the house. You closed the barn and followed them.

When they were inside, your mother was clearly unhappy but she didn’t say anything.

“Bring him some of my clothes. We have to get rid of this uniform and you have to take a look at his arm,” your father told her. “And you,” he pointed at you, “run him a bath.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother,” Major Cleven protested.

“That’s the least we can do to help any man fighting those monsters,” your father said and you sighed out of relief. For a moment you feared that he had lured the American inside only to tell you to call the Gestapo a few moments later.

You were proud to be his daughter.

You all went to sleep very late because of the hassle with Major Cleven. He was sleeping on a sofa, his arm was bandaged, he was washed and he had some of your father’s clothes on him. You woke up first and went downstairs to prepare breakfast for everyone but from the corner of your eye you watched the American asleep on the sofa in the living room which was connected to your small kitchen.

He was a handsome man and it was bringing heat to your cheeks. You had never expected to meet a real American pilot. Not here, not in this European village in the middle of nowhere. You thought of all the American things that you had known of – beautiful Hollywood actresses, pin up girls, Coca Cola, New York buildings… It all seemed more like a dream than a real place and this man sleeping on your couch was coming from it. It felt surreal.

You turned around to focus on preparing coffee and sandwiches with anything you could find in the fridge. You were so deep in your American daydream that you didn’t hear him waking up and walking inside the kitchen.

“Hello,” he greeted you and you jumped a little before turning your head around. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he smiled softly.

God, he was gorgeous. Like from a movie.

“It is fine. I am… How do you say it… tamid?” You stuttered out. You felt awkward not knowing how to say it.

“Timid,” he chuckled. 

“Timid, yes. I’m sorry,” you looked down.

“You don’t have to apologise to me. Your English is very good,” he assured you and your face lightened up at that compliment.

“How do you like your coffee, Major?” You asked.

“Call me Buck, please. That’s how friends call me,” he extended his hand.

“Buck? What does it mean?” You shook it.

“It’s just a nickname,” he explained. “And what’s your name, miss?”

“Oh, yeah, my name’s (Y/N). So, how do you take your coffee, Major?” You introduced yourself and quickly changed the subject.

“Black – no milk, no sugar,” he answered.

“Well, I’m glad because we don’t have sugar,” you chuckled softly. “We haven’t had it in a long while now,” you explained.

“Your family is very generous,” Buck took a cup of coffee from you and your fingers brushed for a brief moment. You felt butterflies in your stomach.

“My father is against the Nazis,” you told him. “He has friends in the local resistance, he will introduce you to them. But we have to wait for your arm to get better first.”

“Thankfully it looked worse than it truly was. Your mother is skilled with these things,” he gave you yet another dashing smile.

Was it an American thing to do to smile so much…? Either way, you didn’t mind.

“She is a nurse,” you told him.

“And you?” He raised his eyebrows and you looked down again.

What were you supposed to tell an American pilot? It felt embarrassing.

“I want to be a teacher like my father… But now I can’t study much, I have to help around the farm. We have our cow, some chickens and a small garden. We used to have a boy coming here to help us but he’s… Well, he’s been killed. It’s difficult,” you explained.

“I’m sorry to hear that… But hey, being a teacher sounds great,” Buck patted your shoulder and you looked up at him in disbelief. He still had that charming smile on his face as he sipped on his coffee. “It’s so good, thanks,” he winked at you, trying to cheer you up a little.

“Y-you’re welcome,” you felt your cheeks heating up and then you heard footsteps on the staircase so you went back to preparing sandwiches since your parents had already been awake.

Buck stayed at your place for a week to let his arm heal. In the meantime he had written a letter addressed to his British base that your father had handed to his friends from the resistance. Buck wanted his friends to know that he was alive and safe.

He was helping around the house and since both of your parents had their regular jobs in the town nearby, you would spend most of your days with him. He was helping you around the garden and with your cow and chickens. He was a funny and charming man and you couldn’t help yourself but to fall in love with him.

You were a shy girl from a small village, you were nothing like those stunning American girls you had seen in the magazines. Your English was not perfect and your stories were not even half as exciting as his. You knew very well that there was no chance that a man like Buck would ever even see you as a woman in a romantic sense. He was a gentleman and he always treated you with respect but nothing more than that.

One time when you were in the garden with him, you spotted a familiar German soldier approaching you and you panicked inside.

“Don’t talk to him,” you told Buck as you faked a smile at the soldier. “Hello, sir!” You greeted him.

“Hello, hello, I’ve been around, decided to check on you. I saw your parents in town and thought to myself you must be all alone here,” he leaned on the fence and squinted his eyes at Buck. “Who’s that?” He asked.

“My cousin,” you explained as your heart was pounding in your chest. You clasped your hands behind your back to hide your nervousness.

“Cousin, huh? Hey, cousin!” He called for Buck and he looked up but he didn’t say anything as you had told him. He couldn’t understand your conversation anyway. “What is he? Mute?”

“Actually, yes, he’s…” you lowered your voice, “...you know, not quite right. In the head, I mean. They sent him here to help around the house because his family is sick of him. His sister got married and she doesn’t want him around at that time, you get me…”

You felt awfully bad for this lie but it was the only way to explain why Buck wouldn’t speak a word. If he tried to speak your language, he would be immediately exposed as an American. He’d be taken to some captive camp and your family would be killed. Or he’d get killed, too. It depended on the German, really. And this one was known for being quite nasty.

The soldier looked you up and down and then he chuckled to himself.

“Sure, sweetheart. Well, have fun with your cousin then. See you around.”

“See you around, sir,” you waved at him nervously and you watched him walk away.

“What happened?” Buck asked quietly.

“Nothing. He wanted to know who you are,” you explained with a soft smile. “I told him we are cousins and that you can’t speak because you’re, well, slow,” you admitted with a shy giggle, afraid of his reaction.

Buck found it funny, though. He laughed and shook his head.

“And you came up with that lie on a spot?” He asked.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? By the way, this German keeps coming around all the time and talking to me. I’m glad you’re here because every time he comes by when I’m alone, I get scared,” you admitted. “He’s like that with lots of girls ‘round here. He only talks but it’s still scary,” you gasped and Buck furrowed his brow. “I think he likes it when we’re scared of him. He asks questions and all that. He’s known for being a brute when things get serious.”

“Yeah, I don’t like it that you’re stayin’ here all alone,” he admitted with a nod and your cheeks heated up in an instant.

You were waiting for your father and Gale while sitting on the fence with your ankles wiggling in the air. You were worried about them because every time your father would visit his resistance friends, it could end badly. Especially now, when he was walking with an American by his side.

And as much as you wanted Buck to go back to his friends, you were also sad that it was time for you to say goodbye to him. You knew it was selfish, but you hoped he would stay for a longer time.

You saw them at the horizon and you sighed out of relief. You jumped back on the ground and ran up to them.

“And? And?” You asked, excitedly.

“We’ll talk inside,” your father gave you a scolding look. Buck smiled at you and you smiled at him.

In complete silence you walked back home and sat by the dining table together.

“Major Cleven leaves tomorrow morning,” your father told you and you faked a huge smile, although your heart broke. You really hoped you would get a few more days with him.

“I’m so happy for you, Buck,” you told him. “I wish you all the luck on the way.”

“Thank you,” he nodded.

“(Y/N),” your mother looked down at you while squinting her eyes. You had a feeling she had known about your crush on Major Cleven. “It’s time for you to check on the cow and lock the barn.”

“Yes, mama,” you sighed and left the table to go outside and straight to the barn.

After a while, Buck joined you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him with a sad smile, trying to hide that you had been crying silently.

“Well, it might be my last evening but I’m still here and I want to help,” he told you.

“I can handle that,” you shrugged your arms. “I can handle everything on my own. I had used to before you showed up,” you added.

Buck didn’t say anything to that. He looked down and blushed a little. You looked away and focused on caressing the cow to calm yourself down.

“I feel bad for leaving you here,” he admitted.

“But what does it change?” You asked and he looked up, furrowing his brows. “I mean, really. What does it matter at all? You’re from a completely different world and I’m… well, me,” you swallowed thickly, trying to fight the tears forming in your eyes and ignoring your throat squeezing tightly. “I am just a village girl in the middle of nowhere, from some place you cannot even pronounce properly. I have never tasted Coca-Cola, never seen a Hollywood movie, only seen pictures in the magazines. I’ve never had lipstick or rollers in my hair. I’m less than ordinary. But it’s fine. It’s how it is here. And you…” you hesitated for a while before taking a deep breath in. “You’re from a different world. You’re so confident and so charismatic and so brave and so… American,” you chuckled through the tears. “So what does it matter that you feel bad about it? You have to leave. This is not your world. You would leave sooner or later.”

You tried not to look at him but his silence forced you to lay your eyes on him. He looked like a beaten dog and it made you feel bad.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised but he approached you and held your shaking hand in his. You looked up and he leaned in closer to your face but he visibly hesitated as if he had no idea if he could do what he wanted to do. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe that it was happening.

You weren’t confident enough to give him a proper kiss. You only pecked his cheek delicately and he smiled gently at you.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he raised his free hand to caress your cheek, “and none of the things you said were true. You’re not less than ordinary. You’re very special but you don’t even know that.”

“Me? Special?” You sniffed your tears back as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You’re a girl one in a million, I mean it,” he brushed your chin with his fingers. “I will never forget you.”

“I will never forget you,” you told him sadly, knowing perfectly well that it would be you who would truly mean your words for the rest of your life.

A man like Major Cleven would move on easily. But you couldn’t blame him for that.

It was the autumn of 1945 and you landed your first job in the local school. Since you weren’t qualified to teach regularly yet, you were supposed to look after the younger children. Either way, you were glad for this job opportunity which would bring your family extra money and some job experience for you.

You often wondered what Buck was doing. Had he come back home? Had he been caught? Killed? You didn’t want to think of that possibility. Had he met someone…?

You didn’t have his picture; you hated how you almost forgot some details of his face already or the exact sound of his voice. You promised to never forget him and you were sure you wouldn’t ever forget a man named Buck. But you couldn’t help forgetting all those little things that were making a real person and not a vague concept of an American you had known a long time ago and loved… Like you were an old woman telling stories to her grandchildren.

The bell rang and all the kids packed their bags before running outside. You were slower with your things as you had no things to be in the hurry for. You walked outside and took a deep breath in, enjoying the fresh, crispy air and the cool breeze on your face.

“Miss (Y/L/N)! Who’s that man?” One of the boys tugged on your cardigan and you looked down at him.

“Hm? What man?” You asked.

“That man over there! He looks like those American pilots I’ve seen in the newspaper!” The boy widened his eyes and your heart skipped a beat as you looked in the direction he was showing.

It couldn’t be him, could it?

You spotted a man leaning on the school’s fence. His golden hair was slightly ruffled by the wind, he was wearing sunglasses and chewing gum nonchalantly. What made him look like an American pilot the most was his leather military jacket, though.

“B-Buck…?” You whispered to yourself as you ran up to the man.

“Need a ride home, doll?” He greeted you with a smile as he pointed at the car behind him with his thumb.

“Buck…!” You screamed as you opened your arms and hugged him tight. He picked you up and spun you around as you giggled. “What are you doing here?!” You asked when he finally put you back down.

“You thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He teased and you burst out in happy tears. “Shh,” he cupped your face and lifted it gently to make you look at him. “Hey, hey,” he took his sunglasses off and looked deeply into your eyes, “hey, I’m back. I’m fine. Are you fine?” He asked, worryingly.

“Y-yes,” you nodded through the tears. “I’m just… I’m just happy,” you confessed. “There was not a day I did not think of you…”

Buck smiled at that and brought you closer to his chest. You breathed in his scent and sighed.

“Please, tell me it’s not a dream,” you sobbed again. “Because I’ve dreamt it a million times before already.”

“It’s not a dream, my sweet girl. I promised I wouldn’t forget about you.”

“But you didn’t promise to come back,” you pointed out.

“I didn’t want to make promises I was not sure if I am able to keep. I didn’t know if I’d get out of this whole mess alive,” he rubbed your back and moved away slightly to look down at your face again. “Hope you haven’t married anyone in the meantime?”

“Are you crazy?” You laughed at him through the tears.

“I mean it, doll, have you met someone?” He asked and you shook your head. “Good. Because I really, really, really, would like to take you out on a date,” he told you and you felt butterflies all over your body.

But… It might have not been a dream. Yet it still felt too good to be true.

“Why me?” You asked with a more serious expression on your face and he furrowed his brows. “I mean, why? Why did you come back for me? I’m sure there are dozens of beautiful and kind women that would love to go out on a date with you. And you didn’t have to cross an Ocean for them.”

“Why you?” He asked as if he couldn’t believe the question because the answer was obvious. It wasn’t obvious for you, though. “You saved me. Your kindness, your generosity, your big heart – they saved me on that night. You could have left me there in the barn or call the Gestapo on me. You were terrified of me, I could see that. But you were too good to let me die, you were so brave. You saved me. And I’ve never met a girl as sweet and kind and beautiful as you,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb to wipe some tears away. “And I know you don’t feel this way about yourself, doll. But I’m gonna change that. I’m gonna tell you this every day until you believe me.”

“This is all very sweet, Buck, but… What I said back then, it’s still true. We are from two different worlds. The war might be over now but it doesn’t change the fact I’m just some village girl from Europe and you’re an American hero,” you shook your head.

“I’m not a hero,” he laughed softly. “And America is not that different, my sweet one. It’s not like in the magazines you’re reading. Anyway, I could stay here, too.”

“You don’t even speak the language,” you laughed.

“I’m a quick learner,” he shrugged his arms. “And I wouldn’t mind working at the farm while you teach. I just want to be with you,” he admitted casually as if he hadn’t just devoted his whole life to you and you only.

Your eyes widened at him. He really did mean that.

You threw your arms around him and let him spin you around once again as you giggled.

“Miss!” A whiny voice made you both turn around and look at the annoyed little boy. “So is he an American pilot or not? How long do I have to wait?!”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[mirukosbitchywife]

hawks, miruko, fatgum, midnight and eraserhead x vigilante reader

REPOST the original one got flagged as s3xu4l content even tho it's just fluff :(

vigilante reader is tame basically acting as a pro hero just without the license, mainly focusing on saving people, and therefore none of the heros reallu care. no warnings just pure fluff

hawks/keigo takami:

-keigo would be a vigilante if he wasn't taken in by the commission. 100% he would not have stopped saving lives even if he got in trouble for it. he might even fuck around and manage to get you an actual hero license if you want one, even a fake one to get out of trouble if you need it

-basically. even as the number two hero he's no snitch and in fact really respects what you do. you guys probably met trying to save the same civilian or something and hit it off immediately

-he lets you follow him on patrols, absolutely no fucks. almost everyone thinks you're just one of his sidekicks and you basically act as one without the hero license. would just use his feathers to carry you away from any particularly hard ass heros (cough endeavor cough) if he needs to

-doesn't have a lot of friends but the ones he does have know all about you (including everything keigo gushes to them about you ugh) and they also don't care, they trust him as a person and a hero so by default they trust you

-probably also insists on training you but most of your spars end up in making out because he has no self control when it comes to you but you're not complaining

-end of day routine with keigo would def start with you two dancing in keigos living room, he just sweeps you up and starts dancing out of no where, doesn't even need music, the sound of you laughing at his antics is music enough for him, you've come to expect it every day when he comes home and it's one of the things you miss most when he's gone on a longer mission

-your rough days always end with you flying, even if you can fly using your own quirk, there's something about being held to the chest of the man you love while he flys through the night sky, placing unwavering trust in him to not let you fall while you admire the stars always makes your heart full, and for keigos rough days, you always preen his feathers, he's not used to anyone touching them besides his fans grabbing at him, so nothing relaxes him more than the feeling of your fingers in his feathers, straightening and adjusting them for him as you go

miruko/rumi usagiyama:

-is so aggressively supportive of the vigilante thing she'd see you out beating the shit out of a villain and be like BEAT THEIR ASS BABE GET EM

-insists on you training with her. if you want to be a vigilante you gotta be in shape enough to go toe to toe with the number 5 pro hero

-absolutely kicks your ass in training but it's okay bc she gives you kisses every time you win a match <3

-if you're not immediately recognizable as a vigilante she Will take you to the boring hero shit she has to go with. no one's willing to get close enough to you besides hawks, because if you're with her she'll glare down anyone who tries to approach her and hawks is the only one brave enough to get closer (she also trusts hawks the most out of all of them and knows hes no snitch)

-has a sixth sense for when you're in trouble, so if you're ever in over your head in the same city as her ur opponent better start praying

-on especially hard days for you, rumi gives a mean back massage that leaves you putty in her hands, on rumis hard days you always do her hair. she finds it so relaxing and loves the styles you do on her and will proudly wear whatever you did as long as she can

fatgum/taishiro toyomitsu:

-taishiro is just That Guy yk u guys probably met because he picked you up by your scruff during a fight you were losing and he jumped in all heroic like *swoons*

-him being That Guy /pos and all his only reaction after dealing with the villain is to put you down and be like woah. hello person i have never seen in my life before this very second right now. you should hurry along i don't want any civilians caught in the cross hairs when the police arrive. anyway random stranger i've never seen ever you should totally come by my hero agency and train in case you know. you get caught close to another villain attack

-guys got a heart proportional to the rest of him how could you not do anything for him he's sunshine personified. if he said jump you'd ask how high he's just got that affect

-he's probably the most chill pro hero aside from like. aizawa. you know how like the bigger the dog the more chill they get (usually). yeah same affect with him he minds his business stays in his lane does heroic deeds on the reg yk

- his favorite thing to do with you is spend time with you laying on top of him <33 he usually takes up all the space on wherever he's lying but no complaints can be heard when you get to cuddle on top of him all night

-end of day routine with taishiro would pretty much be him coming home from work, flopping on the couch, and dragging you to lay on top of him to doze until the food he ordered arrives (even if you wanted to there's no way you could cook for tai after work, you'd have a hard enough time cooking for Any pro hero let alone one who's quirk is dependent on food)

-your rough days usually entail you crawling inside his shirts to be closer to him (in my mind his clothes are probably usually baggy because they need to be able to withstand his full size and after a day at work he'd probably be at least somewhat smaller) and him allowing you to curl up on him like a cat (he probably also pets ur hair like a cat but we don't need to mention that), his rough days probably entail something like baking treats together!! he seems like the kind of guy who really really enjoys quality time with a s/o and combining that with food? his bad day melts away immediately

midnight/nemuri kayama:

-honestly you're probably not even the first vigilante she's dated, if there's one thing nemuri is gonna do it's whatever the fuck she wants lmao

-she's def the type of person to be like rules are meant to be broken

-nemuri LOVES going out with you, you better pray you don't have a recognizable face because there's no way you're getting out of going out to dinner and her dragging you shopping and her showing you off any chance she gets(not that you'd want to get out of that stuff i mean. it's nemuri)

-nemuri prefers working night shifts even when not working at ua so she can force you to take a break when she takes hers and she always packs you food <3

-she also prefers night shifts so you both can protect each other, shadowing one another in case one of you gets over your heads, the other one never being too far

-she probably has a lot of cats and by default they're your cats so usually while nemuris gone at ua you're playing with her cats. (nemuri probably has hundreds of pictures of you with a cat on top of you after you fell asleep)

-her favorite time of day is when you're both home and sweaty from fighting, your end of day routine always starts with taking a bath together, washing grime off the other, using the tenderness to reset your minds after a long day

-she loves to pamper you, do your nails, face masks, anything you want ,and uses her quirk slightly on you after a particularly rough day, and for her rough days you always make sure she gets a foot massage and glass of wine with a book <3

eraserhead/shouta aizawa:

-same shit different day yeah? he probably mostly has vigilante friends if we're honest (aside from hizashi and nemuri of course)

-is definitely used to dealing with vigilantes both a professional and unprofessional sense, nothing you can do will shock him, and you can always count on him to save your ass when things go south, it's like he has a second quirk with the way he's able to sense when you're either about to do something stupid or about to die. usually both.

-you guys patrol at night together, you both prefer working when you know the other is somewhere nearby in case things go south, and more often than not you take cases on together (although Technically it's just him on the paperwork)

-omg what if you guys meet because he saw you feeding a cat and snuck up on you only for you to. notice him? holy shit?? you could sense his presence?? he was flabbergasted. that like never fucking happens

-end of day routine is you bullying him into a shower with you and him making you wash his hair as payment. literally a fucking cat. we both know he wouldn't shower after patrol alone he'd just go to sleep.

-your rough days always end up with you in a caterpillar looking ass sleeping bag with shouta but you'd have it no other way. his rough days are full of cat cafes. they just relax him like nothing else

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

One thing I feel like we don't talk about enough is the fact that Haymitch was 16 when he won the Second Quarter Quell, against 47 other children, 12 Careers among them.

We often see him portrayed as a drunk and a lazy bastard, but the amount of skill and cunning it takes to survive THE HARDEST HUNGER GAMES IN HISTORY. No one understands how he's managed to survive an arena with twice the tributes, or even figure out how the poison works. But Haymitch just doesn't trust the excess, the berries, the green. And he's lived with hunger before. He can take it for a while. When he finds his first body in the arena, the perfectly brown nuts still in his hands, he decides not to eat anything but what's in his backpack. Then, after killing two Careers and being saved from death by Maysilee, they team up and figure out a system to safely drink the rainwater and kill other tributes and scavenge from their backpacks, to make sure that they don't die from poisoning. And being skilled enough at fighting to pressure the Career into throwing her ax at him. Even with half his guts hanging out she apperently wanted none of the smoke. And not only understanding from previous Games, apperently, that the arena ends somewhere, but using it to his advantage. It is astounding.

Then he comes back and the Capitol kills everyone he cares about. This 16 year old boy is surviving the most brutal onslaught in the history of the Games and comes home, traumatized, hurt beyond belief, both mentally and physically - seeing an ally and friend die in his arms, almost dying from taking an axe to the stomach, having to kill no less than 3 Careers - only to see his family and girlfriend murdered.

And as if that isn't enough, he has to spend the next 24 years watching his tributes, all of them the same age he was or younger, die in the arena, all alone. There is no one else to help him shoulder that grief. He has the worst district, where no one ever wins, so he sees 2 children he mentors die every year, and the mother of the girl who saved his life in the arena is still around.

But wait! It gets worse! After Peeta and Katniss show fighting spirit and a desire to come back home alive, he has to choose which tribute he will try to help. He puts his money on Katniss, which is understandable, but still heartbreaking.

Then, they somehow both make it out alive. Notwithstanding the roller coaster of emotions Haymitch must have been on when they pulled that last stunt with the berries - getting them both back, then maybe getting neither back- he has no time to grieve for the 23 children who died, but must immediately go to Katniss to try and save her from the same fate he encountered for his own stunt with the force field.

Then he hears about the Third Quarter Quell, which involves Katniss and either him Peeta or having to fight all his friends. And with Katniss begging him to take Peeta's place when they reap him, all the trauma must've come flooding back.

He is also set to lose the two people he cares about - Peeta and Katniss - to the regime, after snatching them from the jaws of death. When he finally has someone else to share the burden of being a mentor, the Capitol immediately takes that from him, forcing him to watch his comrades die one by one trying to protect Katniss and Peeta to keep them alive, all to give Haymitch a chance to pull them out.

We sort of forget about him a little in the third book, but Haymitch loses absolutely everything he has to the regime. Everything. His innocence, his family, his home, and Katniss and Peeta. He has to topple an entire regime and is a member of a far-reaching conspiracy while he can barely function from all the ( additional ) trauma.

I feel like Susanne Collins used him as a mirror to reflect just how gruesome the Games are, and how this spectacle ultimately damages people so badly they become a shell of themselves. Anyone else thinking about celeberty culture?

When looking at him differently, one cannot escape the notion that he resembles a war veteran, too, forced to kill people to come back and then being lauded, but not helped. Especially him saying "there are no victors, only survivors" and the mind numbing substance abuse in order to avoid dealing with the death of two innocent children every year and everything he went through in the arena.

But not only that; he still has the strenght to fight back, organize a coup, be a mentor. Presented with the first real chance he gets to pull someone through the hell of the Games and come back out, he jumps. Even though that means reliving the horrible games again.

Haymitch deserves a lot more praise, and I think Collins presented him really well as an idea of just how evil the Capitol really is. And how wickedly smart Haymitch Albernathy can be, if he chooses to.

I am honestly suprised that he's still alive and in generally okay condition, despite being a raging alcoholic. Him raising geese and looking after Katniss after they come back from District 13 gives me a little peace.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Thirteen | Azriel X Rhys'!Sister reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

“What the fuck is that?” You demand, stepping forwards once more. 

“None of your concern,” Rhys snaps at you, a shadow of wings beginning to unfurl over his shoulders.

“No,” You say again, “I will not be your pretty little pet. If we are indeed going to war, I will fight. I wasn’t old enough the last time, but I’ll be cauldron damned if I stay out of it again.”

“She has the right to know,” Az spoke up. 

“Damn right she has the right to know,” Morrigan says, “You won’t be able to keep her away from this fight Rhys.” 

“Enough!” He snaps once more, “Enough.” His head is hung low, like he finally understands that you will not be shielded from this conflict. 

Az’s shadows drift towards you, curling around your arm, comforting you in an odd way. But you felt as if the walls of the townhouse were closing in on you. A war was coming. And it would be worse than the one of your childhood. You could feel it, deep in your bones, you would lose those closest to you. 

“I need air,” You forced out before running towards the door. 

Leave them to their scheming. You needed out, you needed the fresh mountain air. Something to remind you that you were no longer a prisoner. Even if Rhys would be more than happy to keep you locked away in Velaris forever, you knew he wouldn’t. He would let you fight, even if it threatened to be his undoing, because he would never be like Tamlin. He refused to let that darker part of him take control. 

You find yourself on the bridge to the Rainbow. Although you still refuse to cross it, much like Feyre, you couldn’t help but come here sometimes to just breathe. Seeing the colors, hearing the music, it still feels like a dream to you. But a very good dream that you never want to wake from. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” A deep, silken, voice says as Azriel settles into place next to you. 

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, so softly it almost isn’t even there. But it was a smile nonetheless, and Az didn’t let it go unseen. He saw every part of you, right down to the fingernails you’d ripped down to stubs. 

“You always did read me too well,” You sigh, turning to look back at the river. 

They used to have to drag you from this spot, kicking and screaming you might add. This was your favorite place in all of Velaris. Always had been. But you were whole back then, a full person. Now you felt like a ghost, the shell of who you once were. 

“Care to walk?” He asks, holding out his arm for you to take. 

“Not tonight, Shadowsinger,” You rarely used his title. Mainly saving it for official business. Maybe you were using it in hopes he would vanish, leaving you to wallow in your misery. 

War was coming. People were going to die. People you cared about. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. Az would be in the thick of it, along with Cas and Rhys. Your three men, the ones you loved the most, would put their lives on the line again and again to ensure that the right side would win. But at what cost? Who would you lose? 

The thought of losing Azriel made your chest threaten to cave in on itself. The breath was knocked from your lungs at the thought as you began to shake. You could survive losing people you loved, but losing Az? The one who seemed to always understand you? The one who seemed to see you? You weren’t sure you could handle that. 

“Stop thinking,” Az’s scarred hand gently brushes your cheek, causing you to flinch away for a moment, before reaching up to grasp his hand in order to keep it there. 

“I can’t help it,” You mutter, “I feel as if I’m going to lose all of you.” 

“You won’t lose me,” he promises, turning you to face him. 

“You can’t know that,” Is your only reply, “You can’t even begin to promise that.” 

He lets out a deep breath before he pulls his dagger, Truth Teller, the very one you gave him as a child, from its sheath, “I swear on this dagger, on my life as it were, that I’ll always come back to you.” 

“Az-”

“No, listen to me, Y/N, we promised as children that whatever we do, we do it together. Wherever we go, we go together, and I plan on keeping that promise. We’ll get through this war, should it come, together.” 

Tears burned your eyes. He’s never swore on that old steal before. It was his most prized possession, because it was the first gift he’d ever been given. Not something he had to win in a training circle, but wholly and truly his. You had it made just for him, had the runes carved into it, everything was done with him in mind, knowing what he would one day be. 

“Stop it,” You turn away from him again, forcing yourself to focus on the river as you blink away your tears, “You’re making a promise you know you can’t keep. You’re no death god, you have no power over it. Should the-” Your voice cracks, “Should the Mother choose to claim you for herself, there is nothing you can do to prevent it.” 

“Stay with me tonight, at the House. Give Rhys and Feyre their space,” He begs, “Sleep next to me.” 

“Azriel-”

“Please,” he says, forehead coming to rest against the side of your head, “I beg you. Just stay with me, so I know you’re safe.” 

You finally nod, giving into him. Like you could ever say no to Azirel anyway. He was your whole being, even if you didn’t yet know it. But you could feel it, the shimmer of a bond that had yet to awaken. 

He flies you to the House of Wind, making sure to add in an extra loop or two just for fun. You don’t let him see how the flight brings tears to your eyes, because the last time you flew was with your mother. You didn’t let him know how it threatened to crack your heart even more than it already was. No, you couldn’t let him know all of that. 

He still noticed the way you pulled away from him the second you two landed on the balcony. Your breath was shaky, as you walked away, wringing your hands. You were trying to figure out how to deal with this. You’d rather face the steps than fly again. 

The thought of flying again made you want to vomit. How could you explain that something that once gave you life and meaning now seemed so vulgar? 

“Are you alright?” 

“Give me a minute,” Was all you could say as you worked your way further into the house and away from Az. 

You hated pushing him away, hating keeping secrets from him. But the scars on your back seemed to burn with a white hot fire. You needed to forget, had you still been in Spring you would’ve had more wine than you should have and then invited Lucien into your bed to fuck you senseless. The rumors of Autumn Court men fucking with fire in their veins was true. 

“What do you need?” Az is behind you in an instant, feeling like you’re longing for something you won’t ask for. 

You never slept with Az. Not in that sense. But it’s the only thing you can think of to make the burning stop. To make you forget about everything. It’s the only thing you can think of to forget. Forget about your mother, forget about that day, and all that you lost because of it. 

“I can’t ask you for what I want,” You mumble, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him. 

You’re half tempted to brave the cauldron damned steps and find a pleasure hall. Surely you could find someone there to please you enough. But the thought of doing anything with anyone other than Az makes you just as sick as the flying did. 

When you were with Lucien it was because you never thought you’d see Azirel again. You never thought you’d see the man who made you whole, the love of your life. Now…now that you’re back, and Azriel is right here….you can’t imagine him not touching you. 

“Ask me,” His voice is gruff in your ear, “Ask me anyway.” 

“Fuck me,” You whine, twisting in his arms to kiss him, “Gods, please Azriel, I need you to fuck me.” 

“You need me to make you forget?” He questions, understanding in a way you could never imagine. 

“Please,” You beg. 

Shadows gather around you, cooling your boiling skin. Within the second, you’re surrounded by darkness as he winnows you to his bedroom. You know it’s his room because you used to sneak into it all of the time. 

Nothing had changed that you could see. Weapons scattered around, various weapon racks and cases along the walls. You’re on his bed before you can think, his hands all over you. He’s wild, like he’s finally let go of that thread that keeps him wound so tight. The little bit of control finally let loose. 

“Az.” 

“Shh,” He whispers, capturing your lips again oh so gently, “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” 

“I’m not fragile,” You remind him, “I won’t break. I don’t need you to be gentle.” 

“You aren’t fragile,” He agrees, “But you are precious, and I want to be gentle with you.”

You moan out, feeling his hands, or maybe even his shadows reach for your breasts. You hadn’t been fucked in what feels like years. Maybe it had been years. When was Fire Night? Was that the last time you were with Lucien? 

Why were you even thinking of another man when you’re with Azirel? You silently scold yourself. Before you cling to him, holding him as tightly to yourself as you could. You wanted everything with him. You always had. But you never thought you’d ever have this chance. 

You thought for sure your father would marry you off to some Lord’s son before you could ever love Az the way you wanted to. Now here you are, hundreds of years later, ready to give him everything you have to offer. 

“I want you,” You whisper against his lips. 

It didn’t occur to you that Cassian could be somewhere in the house. You hoped that he was flying high above the city, and that all of this would go unknown. But the feel of Azriel’s hands on your skin was enough to make your mind go blank. 

The air was thick with the scent of your combined arousal. You could almost taste it. He gets to work on quite literally ripping the clothes from your body. It’s a good thing you weren’t overly fond of the set that Mor obviously picked out. 

“See, more of that,” You tease, nipping at his bottom lip. 

“Enough talking,” He warns, fingers dipping down to your heat. 

It was enough to shut you up, that’s for certain. The feeling of his scarred hands where you’d always dreamt of having them. Having his lips on your skin, working down your body, trailing kisses in their wake. 

A moan is released from your lips as he finally inserts a finger, and then another. You’re far from a virgin, he knows this, but it might as well be your first time. You feel like it is. Feel the need to fumble your way through so clumsily that it’s almost laughable. 

You’re whispering his name like a prayer, unable to form any other words. It’s just him, he’s all you can think about. All you could focus on. Anything else melted away as he sucked on your clit, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. You’re a moaning mess. Clinging to the hair on his head, pushing him impossibly closer to your core. 

You can feel him smile against you, and it sends you over the edge as he chuckles. Your vision goes white and no sound comes out of your open mouth as you convulse. Az keeps working you through it, only stopping once you literally push his head away. 

“You…” He stops and shakes his head, shadows are dancing around the both of you, “You’re incredible.”

“Just get over here,” You mutter, grabbing for him once more so you could kiss him. 

Despite the awkward angle, you get to work on the laces of his leathers, trying to rid him of his clothing just as quickly as he’d taken yours off. You seemed to forget in that moment that you had powers that would make this much easier, or maybe you didn’t care about them. This felt more primal than your powers. 

You free his cock, mouth instantly going dry. You hadn’t expected him to be so big. You never listened to Mor when she used to joke about wingspans, maybe you should have. Truthfully, you weren’t sure it was going to fit, he very well might just split you in two. 

As if he senses your apprehension, his hands come to rest over yours, “I’ll be gentle,” He reminds you, “And if you want to stop, you just need to tell me, okay? You can walk out of here, no questions asked.” 

“I want this,” You whisper, “I want you, Azriel. All of you.” 

His eyes shimmer a little as he swallowed thickly, “Okay.” 

He leans down to kiss you again. Any of your worries seem to just melt away under his attention. But you still can’t help but tense up when you feel him line up with your entrance. He gently tries to soothe you, reminding you that he’s going to go slow, reminding you that you’re truly the one who’s in charge. 

He takes your breath away as he slides in. Your eyes screw shut, hands reaching for anything to grip onto, whether it be the bed or Az. He hisses above you, arms shaking as he tries to keep above you. His wings are flared out behind him, and you don’t need your eyes open to know that. 

“Fuck,” He mumbled, pushing in just a little further. 

“I want all of you,” You force out, wrapping your legs around his middle, feet digging into his ass. 

“I know,” He grunts, “I know baby. Just give me a second, or I won’t last.” 

After a moment or two, he finally pushes in the rest of the way, filling you to the hilt. You’re panting, trying to fill your lungs with air, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Az has his face buried in your neck, breathing just as deeply as you are. Nothing ever seemed to feel so right to you before. That thing inside your chest that always seems to be there for Az just blooms. Growing bigger, begging for more of him. 

“More,” You moan out, holding him tightly to you, “I need more.” 

He nods and draws his hips back before trusting back into you. His shadows are kissing you, moving along your body with featherlight touches. It only adds to the feeling of Azriel inside you. It’s almost too much, and yet still it’s not enough. You want more of him, you need it. You need all he has to offer. All he can give you. It makes you whine out. 

“I know,” He groans, kissing you, “I feel it too.” 

His hips snap a little harder, filling you even deeper if it’s even possible. You cling to him to keep you grounded, like he’s the only one in the world who could. It never felt like this before. This personal, this loving. It takes your breath away in more ways than one. 

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten even more. 

The slow, deep tempo he started begins to become more erratic, thrusts becoming sloppy and harder. You’re a moaning mess underneath him, begging for something, anything. Begging for him. 

“Fuck,” He whimpers, literally whimpers from above you, “I’m gonna cum.” 

One more snap of his hips, and a flick of your clit, and you’re coming with him. Both falling over the edge together. Moaning and kissing and breathing together. You never felt more connected to a person before. Never wanted to feel more connected to anyone than you wanted to be connected to Azriel. 

“I love you,” He whispers to you, kissing your neck. 

You wrap your arms around him, stroking his hair, “I love you too, Az.” 

“Stay with me?” You never heard him sound so vulnerable. 

“I won’t go anywhere,” You promise, kissing his head. 

You fell asleep like that, holding one another. Anything you were worried about before had long since melted away. Nothing else seemed to matter but the beautiful Shadowsinger in your arms. He was all that you wanted, all you needed really. 

But when the early morning sun shone through the window, you felt nothing but guilt. Because as much as you loved him, you used him last night. It shouldn’t have happened because you needed to forget. The scars on your back seemed to be burning again as you made your way from Azriel’s room, dressed, surprisingly, in fresh clothing that the House left out for you. 

You’d forgotten about the magic of this place. 

You’re about to brave the steps when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Never thought I’d see you sneaking out of here,” Cassian stated.  

“Don’t,” You warn, “Not this morning.” 

“Go back to him,” He urges you, “Whatever fucked up thing you’re thinking, forget it. And go back to my brother. He deserves one good thing in his life.” 

“I’m not good,” You shake your head, “I haven’t been in a long time.” 

He takes a step closer to you, arms wide open, “Whatever happened that day, and what’s happened in the years after, don’t change who you are. You’re still you.” 

A lump forms in your throat, and you rush into his open arms. Needing to feel some kind of comfort from someone who somehow seemed to understand what you’re going through. Somehow he knew, and didn’t shy away from it. 

“You’re still Y/N, nothing can change that,” He promises you, “We’ve all done things we wish we could take back, things we aren’t proud of. But you survived, they tried to break you but they couldn’t. They failed, and you made it out alive. No one can fault you for the things you had to do to ensure that.” 

“But-” 

“No, sweetheart,” He shakes his head, “You lived.”

You can’t help but cry. Because it's the first time someone actually told you that it was okay. Everything you did, everything you had to do…it’s okay. You cry so hard your legs wobble, causing Cas to haul you into his arms and walk you into the living room. He sits down on one of the couches, holding you in his lap, letting you cry it out. 

It could have been hours later, you aren’t quite sure. But quiet footsteps echo through the now silent living room. You know it’s Aziel, because he’s the only other one in the house, but you can’t bring yourself to move. All your strength is gone again. 

“Why is it that I always seem to find you like this?” He asked Cassian carefully. 

“Because believe it or not, I’m good at talking to her,” Cassian whispers back to him, “I think she’s asleep.” 

“I’ll take her to her room,” Az sighs, “How bad was it this time?” 

“Bad enough,” Cas shrugs, “She still blames herself.” 

“Do we need Rhys?” 

“No, not yet,” Cas says softly, “I think she’s figuring it out. Stubbornly slow, but I think she’s getting there.” 

Cassian is silent for a moment before speaking again, “She smells of you.” 

“Don’t.” Az warns, his voice not lacking an edge. 

“No, I’m happy for you,” Cassian clarified, “You two work well together.” 

“When she isn’t running we do.” 

“She’ll come around. She has to forgive herself first though,” Cassian assured him. 

Azriel comes closer, holding his arms out for you. Cassian sighs and stands, helping transfer you into Azriel’s arms. You instantly snuggle into him, humming in your dazed state. Cassian was right, you were mostly asleep. But awake enough to know that you’re in your love’s arms. 

“Take care of her,” Cassian warns Azriel. 

“I plan on taking care of her for the rest of our lives if she’ll let me.” 

“Good.” 

With that, Cas turns and makes for the balcony before shooting to the skies. Leaving you alone in the house with Az once more. You mumble something that Az can’t quite make out, which causes him to gently shoosh you. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you princess,” He promises, “And I’m not going to let you go.”

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[flightofthejackdaw]

I just want to say how much I adore the women of One Piece, not just on a ‘holy moly these women are beautiful’ but also on ‘holy moly these women are so well written’

I love how many layers the lady’s have, even those who are not part of the main cast

Nami acting as the brains of the crew, but always being up to scrap with the boys and put them in their place, her fear of trusting and being betrayed being a core aspect of her character. WCI and Wano are pretty recent examples of this, with her anger at Sanji, and her belief in Luffy. I love how confident she is in her self, and how she is a little evil sometimes she’ll use everything at her disposal to get what she wants. How she knows that she’s needed on the crew and without her they would’ve all drowned along ago, and she’s beautiful and cute and she knows this. I hate people thinking that she’s less of a character post timeskip just because of her appearance, she’s so much more than that

Vivi’s love of her people and her country, her worrying nature and her desire for adventure despite her position. Her care for the crew despite the small amount of time she knew them. Also how she’s basically the main character of Alabasta, and how she’s the one saving her country

Robin going from someone who was always looking over her shoulder, always running and never having a real place to call home. To someone who knows she has a family who loves her and will protect her no matter what, and she can be her strange morbid self without judgement (other than from Usopp)

Viola and Rebecca, two ladies forced into a living hell under Dolfamingo. One humiliated by her own people and forced to fight for her life when at heart she just wanted peace, and the other whose soul was almost broken by Doffy but chose to fight against him even if she knew she wouldn’t win. Viola going to stab Doffy even if she knew she would fail shows her strength as she stood up against him even if it could’ve meant death because she wanted to do what she could

And there are so many others that are just as amazing:

- Big Mom: a major villain with a twisted idea of family and love. One of the most powerful pirates in the sea, all this strength but she’s still just someone that was abandoned by the world and became obsessed with filling that void

- Pudding: a woman twisted by the abuse she suffered hating herself and lashing out at others in turn. And how that persona comes crashing down when showed only a bit of kindness

- Boa: the strong powerful empress, who is deeply scarred and can’t show any weakness to her people. And just wants to be loved by someone who sees more than her beauty

-Reiju: the older sister that had to go along with her little brothers abuse, and helped when she could. But only when she couldn’t be the target, she’s flawed and distant but she loves her brother

- Bonny: a literal child who braved the seas to save her father and became one of the most wanted pirates of her generation in under two years, scrappy and tomboyish with a soft heart for her dad

These ladies are living breathing characters! And there are some many others that are just the same, they are all so well developed and different from each other in character. And none of them are just there to be, ‘the girl in the group’ or the ‘love interest’ (though Boa likes Luffy and Pudding likes Sanji neither are their main character traits and have story reasons for being in love)

I love them so much

I love women

A certified girl kisser wrote this at like 1 am

[snyderside]

I am not exactly sure if this classifies as an Au or headcanons since Trolls Band Together was kinda short and for the life of me I kinda hate when movies are rushed and we get the cut scenes afterward only as a storyboard(I also tend to like the concept art more than the official art)

But enough of me ranting and more into me getting into what I think/want to happen to Brozone when the band split up

(I choose to call it their solo career)

John Dory(19):

Seeing John Dory's entrance attitude and smugness truly made me think yeah this guy is definitely full of himself and in major denial about some things and what really confirmed my suspicion was when he said "I was the oldest I had no choice but to lead!"

So for his solo career, I thought maybe he did some odd job like bounty hunting, or perhaps he played hero with a small town with a small population of trolls or some other anthropomorphic species. Of course, anyone he would save or any group of bounty hunters he'd join didn't like him because he enjoyed taking control of the situation so much or bossing everyone around. He never liked being alone but he kept driving people away, so eventually he knew solitude was his best option, therefore living in Ronda alone in a forest. He did feel regret for driving his brothers away but only because he knew he was more familiar with bossing them around than some random strangers he'd just met. He kept the mindset of "Why should I feel bad when they're the ungrateful ones!" and "All I've ever done was look out for them, and I stepped up when Mom and Dad died!" after those thoughts he couldn't help but think "What are you doing John Dory?"

Spruce/Bruce(17):

I thought it would be funny if almost everyone at his little restaurant on Vacay Island or should I say Brandy's restaurant...well her dads knew who "Bruce' really was except Brandy. I like to think Bruce went to vacay island because either his therapist or himself thought he should relax more so he went on a "vacation". He chilled out, gained a little bit of weight making him lose his six-pack, and most importantly tried to win the heart of Brandy because she seemed to be the only one not falling for his charm. Brandy played a tsundere type of approach when it came to all his advances on her, but then it all came to a game of volleyball as Bruce's way of showing his dedication to her, of course some of the other players used his small stature against him and he was getting his butt handed to him. He was only able to score a single point (IDEK how volleyball works) and the way he leapt into the air had Brandy star struck, the that that was holding his hair back snapped and he used nothing but shear will power to spike the ball. I mean sure Bruce lost but did he really? He got the girl in the end so it's all that counts right?

Clay(16):

(So I don't really have much for clay because I used most of my ADHD superpowers on the other guys and there's not too much I can go on from the movie)

Now Clay just looked around for jobs, it was retail, then tried working at some corporate building but it all didn't exactly work out because none of his co-workers took him seriously. Feeling out of options Clay walked aimlessly eventually finding Viva and the Putt-putt trolls, at the time imagined them looking more post-apocalyptic and slightly barbaric and frankly chaotic, Viva needed drastic help because she was just a little kid like Clay. Clay offered to help her mainly because he has a tiny bit of OCD (Saying this because of how grumpy he looked when John Dory went off and did his own thing and him practicing and worrying before Brozone performance.) and Viva thought/thinks so highly of him and thought of him as serious which is all Clay ever wanted so he just felt at home...and may or may not have developed feelings for her in the long run. Still, hey I've already got into a Romance segment.

I'm going to leave this here and not do Floyd because I'll talk about his little solo career journey in an OC ramble. (I have no shame.)

Thanks for reading have a lovely day!

[sexlapis]

- halloween cats? (flufftober 2023)

❀ : toji fushiguro x reader

ᨳ  ࣪ . synopsis : on the eve of halloween, you unexpectedly bring home two cats. toji is not too pleased.

. cw : s4w, short fic, fluff, lowkey crack fic, mentions of animal euthanasia, toji & reader are married, reader loves cats, toji swearing, petnames (‘kid’), _____= your name

ᨳ  ࣪ . wc : 1.1k

.. a/n : first fanfic after seven months of no writing! please enjoy <3

masterlists

*

“…what the hell is even that?”

you’re soaked by the time you step into the house, the rain had seeped through your (very poorly chosen) coat and you had forgotten your umbrella. face and hair sprinkled with droplets, nose red and clothes drenched, a multitude of shopping bags hanging from your arms. you were a mess.

but all of that is not what toji is referring to.

in both of your hands you carry a pet carrier. you didn’t mean for it to happen. it was a free day for you so you decided to make the most of it. first it was clothes shopping, then trying out new pastries in cafés, purchasing a bouquet of orange and black flowers for the vase at home, getting spooky-themed nails and more of the sort.

you believed you were done for the day, but on your way back home you spotted a sign saying, ‘Cat Adoption Here! Give a Cat a Loving Home!’ and being the cat lover you are, resisting was futile.

so there you were, standing in your home facing your bewildered husband, holding a pair of old, bonded cats.

“uhhh. they’re…toy cats.” you lie. “it’s a new thing for young adults toji,” slipping off your shoes, you rush past him, placing the pet carriers on the floor softly and plopping your shopping bags on the kitchen counter, “you wouldn’t understand.” you sniff the kitchen, smelling something sweet and homey. “oooh, what are you baking-”

“don’t bullshit me, _____.” toji chides and followed you to the kitchen. “i heard a ‘meow’ in there-”

“ok, i got a cat!…s.”

“…”

you sigh. “i…i got two cats.”

toji groans. “_____-”

“you don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “i had to! i know i should’ve spoken to you first but i did it to save them! they are both the sweetest cats i have ever met and they’re bonded and those people were going to kill them because they were old!”

“what?” questions toji. “_____, why would they kill the cats?”

“…well, they told me they’d euthanise them since nobody wanted them..that’s animal murder and that’s illegal last time i checked.”

“and that’s “killing” to you?”

“well if somebody euthanised me without asking is that not murder?”

toji doesn’t say anything and just stares at you.

that’s a win in your eyes. “exactly.”

you hear a whiny meow from one of the carriers. “oh my god, we must’ve scared them with our shouting.”

“i wasn’t shouting..”

but you pay him no mind as you lay on the floor and open the little door to the pet carrier.

“tt-tt-tt-ps-ps-ps, hi little kitty.”

the black, one-eyed cat, named ‘stitches’, lets out the cutest, high-pitched meow as she slowly walks out of the carrier. stitches looks around the new area she is in for a few seconds before walking up to you and nuzzling your hand. your heart almost bursts.

“awww!! you are sososo sweet!” you coo, scratching in between her ears and stroking her smooth, shiny fur. stitches purrs, seemingly already happy to be here. “toji look at her! isn’t she adorable? her name is stitches. because of her eye and stuff.”

toji blankly stares down at you and the cat from where he is standing. stitches looks up at him and blinks slowly before leaving you and walking up to him. she stands for a second before reaching up and puts her paws on toji’s tree trunk of a leg and meows.

“aw, toji, she likes you!” you cry out. “we definitely have to keep them now.”

toji huffs and gently waggles stitches off of his leg. “none of that, cat.”

stitches isn’t one to take no for an answer, proven when she decides to jump and climb up toji’s body all the way to his shoulders.

you cackle as toji jumps at the cats sudden movements, shoulders hunched in shock and confusion. “hey! what the hell!”

“oh, yeah, we are so keeping them.”

you quickly open the door of the other pet carrier, ignoring toji’s struggles of trying to remove the cat from his body. it was funny to see big, intimidating toji stumbling all over the place, being taken down by a cute, tiny senior cat.

“kid, you sure this is an old cat? seems pretty fucking athletic to me.” he grunts as he tries to pry stitches’ claws out of his flanneled shirt, arms contorting to reach behind his shoulders.

“mhm, i’m sure toji.” you reply, picking up the other cat, an orange male named ‘teddy’ and holding him in your arms. “this one is a boy cat. his name is teddy and he likes to be held like this.”

“uh-huh.” toji says, finally getting stitches off his body and placing her on the ground. “thanks for the help, kid.”

“you’re welcome.” you’re barely paying attention to him, gently rocking the fluffy orange cat in your arms, baby talking to him and making soft noises. teddy the cat lets out a gentle meow.

he draws his attention to you, hair ruffled from his recent battle. “okay why don’t you have a shower and change? you're drenched.” toji pats your dumb wet head.

you had forgotten about that. “alright, yeah.” you put teddy on the floor and jog towards the stairs, leaving wet footprints in your path. “keep an eye on them, toji!”

“yeah, yeah.” he waves dismissively.

toji turns back to the cats and sighs, hands on his hips. the two felines look up at him expectantly. “now what am i going to do with you two, huh?”

stitches walks up to him and reaches her paws onto toji’s trouser leg.

“ah-ah, no, no, no. bad cat! bad-”

stitches is already climbing his leg again and finds her way to his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his temple and purring.

“ah goddammit.” toji exhales, crouching down and attempting to shake stitches off once again.

toji looks at teddy, who is staring at him quietly. “wanna help me out here orange cat?”

“…mrrp.”

*

finished with your long, hot shower, feeling warm and cosy, you go downstairs to see how toji is doing with the cats (not before having one of the cookies toji had baked though).

“toji?” you call, walking through the hallway to the living room and the sight that greets you tugs at your heartstrings.

there toji lays on the sofa, asleep, snoring, with teddy sleeping on his chest and stitches nestled at his side on his arm, also asleep.

“aw, toji..” you snap a quick picture for memories sake and save it to your favourites. underneath all that hard, domineering exterior of his, toji at heart is just a big softy.

toji seems to sense your presence and he slowly blinking awake. he groans and looks up to see you standing above him. he rubs his eyes.

“so we can keep them?”

toji rolls his eyes, huffing and puffing, looking at your pleading eyes. he doesn’t even remember why it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep them. who is he to deny you of anything? “sure why not?”

you smile, teeth and all, and kiss him on the forehead, careful not to disturb the cats. “thankyoutoji!”

the cats are purring and you’re all giddy and joyful. toji can tolerate these cats since they make you so happy.

[pinkworldone]

Hidden Feelings

yandere! Genshin x reader

characters: Cyno, Wanderer, Diluc.

Idea: you always say "good morning" and always talk to them, even if some do not say anything or just insult you back, you were in love, so you refused to realize that they were "evil", however, hear comments from other people and their friends saying that it was not worth it. You opened your eyes, stopping talking to them every morning and always being on they side, but what you didn't know was that these little moments were adorable for each of them.

tw: yandere content; mentions of aggression and death; not too much yandere here, but it’s okay

+Cyno Art! Sorry, I was having trouble drawing the part of Diluc and Wanderer...

CYNO

–You were just another worker who had been saved by him, you also heard comments from the incredible General Mahamatra, leaving you with an exactly delusional idea of what he was like and making you fall in love slowly. Initially, you always greeted Cyno out of politeness, smiling sweetly and saying "good morning" or other depending on the time.

– However, Cyno barely answered back, just a quick answer and walk away, not giving you much room to start a more normal conversation. However, you had not yet given up and continued, even trying to have lunch and learn that card game that he seemed to like.

– Still, his reactions continued... few. No right smile and I also didn't come to you, always waiting for you. Exactly for this reason, your friend decided to try to open your eyes and adding to the comments you heard from your colleagues - calling him an idiot for looking for an impossible love - you finally understood and decided to walk away.

– Cyno noticed the change quickly, it started with you passing by him and not greeting him with his cute and gentle smile, he thought you were just busy on the day or with something in mind; however, he continued for the rest of the week, you no longer had lunch with him or tried to play TCG.

– He didn't sketch that much reaction abroad, but he was extremely confused, did he do something wrong? Did it hurt you? Maybe he was too hard while teaching you TCG?! It was not possible, Cyno still remembered your smiles while you carefully learned the game and your cute scream when a character died or lost!

– So, he decided to go to you, observing that you were playing tcg with someone else, a strange feeling took over, seeing that person so close and still touching you to teach how to play. your reactions are so adorable, but it wasn't him who was making you have those cute expressions, but another person!

– Everyone noticed the change in the General's tone, Cyno tried to act cool and pretend that none of this had affected him, maybe you were just training to surprise him? Like: "let's fight again, this time I trained a lot and I'm going to win!" Saying all this with a confident smile that he loved.

– Days. Weeks. 1 month, 2... All right, Cyno had already been angry enough, it was not possible that you were trained for so long, he would challenge you to a TCG battle and win!

– Your dear friend was on your side while he watched you play against Cyno, he expected another reaction when you lost, of course your surprise was cute, but seriously you had to call your friend so sweetly asking to train more?!

– Cyno played against his coach and won, hoping you would realize how amazing he was!

– You didn't.

– Now Cyno didn't understand, he has an immense moral compass that could not be corrupted by killing a person out of jealousy, but making him disappear was a great idea. So the plan was made, now that your coach has disappeared, your only coach should be him!

– and no, you didn't go to Cyno. The man was almost giving up! But no, no, no! He simply starts to get closer to you, trying to show the small (giant) passion.

"Let's go out today" Cyno simply said on his side, did he have free time? You just nodded with a smile, maybe he just wanted to play some TCG with you...

– After a while, you began to be titled as "General Mahamatra's partner", everyone whispered when you passed by and also feared a little talking to you. Did ignoring him for two months cost that much?

WANDERER

– Being his partner in class was quite fun and irritating, but you still fell in love with his good looks and intelligence — even more so because of his looks, but don't tell anyone that! You always greeted him with a kind smile even when he grumbled and didn't say anything back, you sat next to him every day, trying to talk and even managed to, always with a smile that it’s too cute.

– You also paid attention in class, but sometimes, Wanderer would disturb you and take your attention, making the teacher fight with both of you, and Wanderer would continue, it's not like he cared!

– This lasted a long time, until one day he was a little meaner, calling you annoying and insulting you with all the horrible things possible, telling you to get away from him and you actually did it, with your head down. Wanderer was surprised, he just expected you to insult him back like always and sit next to him without caring! "Just being an idiot, come back tomorrow..." he thought, but it's been two weeks and you haven't come back to him, hell, you even stopped greeting Wanderer, you ignored his existence.

— Do you want to play this stupid game? It's okay, he's going to play this stupid game... He doesn't last, he's simply used to your cute smile and seeing you giving that smile to someone else?! your cute greetings to another?! no way.

— Wanderer is sitting next to you this time, making sure no one comes closer and leaves you two alone as it should be. disturbing you in the middle of class, pulling you to have lunch with him and spend the day with him; Even speaking for you, but not in a cute way, Wanderer sees the others approaching, asking if you are free, he simply replies "no" and insults them until they want to give up on life.

– — If Wanderer observes someone being too kind and silly by your side, that person will "give up" the next day, with a few bruises here and there. Forces you to hold his hand and act like a cute couple, are you uncomfortable? He doesn't care, you were always his from the first moment.

DILUC

– You were fighting indirectly with Donna, a woman who also likes Diluc, your passion for him grew so fast and strong, look at him, so strong and incredible, owner of his own industry! You were lucky that your friend always drank and all his get-togethers ended up at the tavern, always giving you the opportunity to admire the man from afar.

– You took the opportunity to sneak away and be close to him, not your drunk friends, you shared the same drink, neither of them drank wine or alcoholic beverages, you thought it was destiny! So I almost always stopped by and visited, hoping Diluc would be there. He wasn't there, but that's okay, you had fun talking to Charles!

– Then you started hearing the nasty comments, commenting on what an idiot you are, how impossible this relationship would be and that he didn't deserve you. You were just another delusional person blinded by love. Such comments made you stop visiting the tavern frequently, going only when your friends invited you.

– Diluc was quick to notice the change, you sat in the corner, just waiting for your friends to get tired or most of the time, you got up (this always made his heart warm, preparing the words he would say to you thinking about how he memorized your favorite topic), however, you just walk towards the door and leave the tavern without even saying "goodbye".

– He ends up hearing the gossip from his friends, some even told him that you forgot about him and that you didn't love him anymore, even calling him an idiot! It's okay that Diluc barely showed any reactions or happiness when you greeted him, but it always made his day better.

– You had returned with your friends, drinking your juice while listening to them chatter about something, you were still surprised that Diluc hadn't kicked them out; some fainted, others were very focused on a side conversation, you got up and headed towards the door. Only to be stopped by Diluc asking you to sit down and have a talk with him.

– Diluc could see you nervous, how sad your look seemed every time you left, he was happy when you accepted and sat down to talk. Wow, how long has it been since he talked to you? see that cute smile and clumsy mannerisms?! He loves you, damn it!

– It was just a contract, his parents would never deny him a marriage, so why not bring up the topic? And… Your answer hurt him, "no", Diluc had to accept it and just let you leave. He tried to ask for your consent, but it seems like you rejected him, it's okay, he can ask your parents for your hand!

[vodika-vibes]

Hey idk if this has already been done but an Echo x reader enemies to lovers like reader is a separatist.

First Burn

Summary: The Separatists have won the war. The Republic lies in tatters, and the Clone Army has been repurposed for use for the Separatist Army. You are a member of Serrano’s Intelligence Department, and you just found out that you’re being gifted a clone to help you with your work. Needless to say, no one is thrilled about this.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2484

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, sorry that this took so long, but I've been working on it since I got it, basically, and I only managed to think of an ending that made me happy today. I hope you like it! The title comes from a Hamilton song, I think. It doesn't have anything to do with the story, but it's what I was listening to when I started writing. And, for all that this is an AU, it is not part of my AU event.

“I’m not sure I understand,” You say blankly as you look from the irate-looking man, clapped in chains, over to your direct supervisor, “Has my work been less than satisfactory?”

“Not at all.” Your Supervisor, who also happens to be your uncle and your warden, replies as he roughly claps you on the shoulder, “Count Dooku is very happy with your work. Which is why you’re getting a clone.”

The clone in question glowers at your uncle, and you’re not sure you blame him.

“You want someone who, up until a month ago, was an enemy against us to work in intelligence? Does this seem...wise?”

“It’s fine. It’s hardly clever enough to interfere.”

You’d be stunned by your uncle’s casual racism if you weren’t used to it. So you sigh and rub the back of your head, “Alright. But when this goes terribly, I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’.”

“Ha! You won’t have to.” He claps your shoulder one more time, “Have fun!” And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with a man who, you’re sure, would sooner put a blade in your throat than anything else.

“Right, well...what should I call you?” You finally ask.

“CT-1409.”

“...right. I’m not calling you by a number.” You can’t help but wonder if the Republic ever gave him a name. It would be awful if they hadn’t.

You’re surprised when he looks surprised. What kind of awful stories must the Republic have spread about your people for him to be surprised at your statement?

“...My brothers call me Echo.”

“Echo,” You nod once, committing his name to memory. And then, almost carelessly, “Nice to meet you, Echo.” You absolutely need him to see you as a person, rather than a Separatist. Because if he wanted to hurt you, no one would come to save you.

He shoots you a look, “Where are my brothers?”

“No idea. But I can look into it if you want.” You turn and head deeper into your domain, “Follow me please, there are some safety things we need to cover.”

“Like what?” Echo sounds sarcastic, though he is following you, so you’ll accept the small win.

“Well, primarily, this facility is located deep underground. Most of the machines down here are dedicated to life support. If any of them stop working, we die before anyone even realizes that there’s something wrong.” You reply.

“It would take time to run out of air.” He argues back, logically.

You pause and look at him, “You misunderstand. If any of these machines break down, this entire facility will be filled with toxic gas. We’d be dead before we even knew what was happening.”

Echo stares at you, “What.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

“Toxic gas. Dead instantly. I’m not sure what wasn’t clear about that.”

“I’m more confused by the fact that this sounds like a prison rather than a place spies hang out.”

Well. He’s not wrong.

You shrug but continue, “We have a small army of maintenance droids whose sole function is to keep the machines working. Please don’t mess with the droids.”

“Noted.” He follows you further into the facility and then stops, “Aside from the droids, I haven’t seen any other people.”

“Yeah, well. That’s because there aren’t.”

“So, what,” Wow, his sarcasm could be used as a weapon with how skillfully he wields it, “You work alone in intelligence?”

You shake your head, “There are plenty of people who work in intelligence, but I’m the only one who works here. I’m the best analyst that Serrano has.”

“So you work alone.”

“Well, it’s not like I can leave, now is it?” You start walking again, “Keep up, Echo.”

He falls into step next to you, though he doesn’t say anything as you show him around the facility. It’s not large, all things considered.

The majority of the space is filled with all of the machines and computers needed to run the life support. Your working area is a decently sized room that could probably fit ten people comfortably, for all that you use it alone.

The living space, though, is much more homey.

“So, this is where we sleep. And eat.” you pause, “And basically do everything that isn’t work.”

It’s not tiny. There are two distinct bedrooms, on opposite sides of the living room, and each bedroom has a fresher attached to it. The kitchen is decently sized and has all of the appliances that you might need to survive.

“My room is the one closest to the door,” You motion to the door, and then you motion to the other one, “That one’s been empty since I was moved in, but I air it out and clean it weekly so you don’t have to worry about dust or mold.”

“Moved in—”

“Sorry?”

Echo glances at you, “You said you were moved in, not that you moved in.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, taking your time to consider your words carefully, “Once, there was a group of people who felt, strongly, that the way that Dooku was doing things was not beneficial to Serrano as a whole.” You finally say, “Unfortunately, being a former Jedi is like having a cheat code for life, so—”

“So this is actually a prison then.”

You smile bitterly and hold your hands to the side, “And we both have life sentences.”

Something softens in his hard gaze, “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “Don’t be. I made my choice, and I made it knowing what the consequences might be.”

“Brave.”

You laugh, “Well, you’d be the only one who thinks that.” You head into your kitchen and wave your hand over the holo-computer to wake it up from its sleep, “Anyway, this is where we order food, clothes, and personal things that we might need.” You explain, “Orders need to be submitted by 6 pm on the last day of the work week, and everything we order will be delivered by noon the next day.”

You move one of the holograms, showing a half-formed grocery list.

“And it’s delivered accurately?”

“Yep. If we can’t get a specific item, a message will arrive to my personal comm.” You explain, “I’ll add you to the contact list so you can get those comms too.” You fold your arms, “What else—”

Echo leans in and adds a couple of food items to the list, looking impressed when the list shifts and adjusts itself so it remains sorted logically.

“Ah! Laundry!” You walk over to a sliding wood door and pull it open, “Washer, dryer,” You point to each object individually, “We’ll probably want to work out a chore schedule, but I don’t have a problem doing all of the laundry.” You point to three baskets, “Darks, lights, towels. Our dryer isn’t the best, so towels need to be dried on their own or nothing will get dry.”

Echo stares at you, and then his gaze slides around the room. “How long have you been down here?” He finally asks.

“I was thrown down here 6 months after the war started.” You reply honestly.

Echo turns his gaze back to you, “You’ve been down here for almost two years? Alone?”

“Well, it’s not so bad.” You lie with a shrug, “Nothing was stopping me from enrolling in the local University so I got another degree. In Communications. And I learned how to cook.”

“You had to have been lonely though.”

“Well. Loneliness is relative. Better here than dead, right?”

“I guess.” Echo looks around for a moment, “You never tried to escape?”

“Yeah, I did mention the toxic gas, right? Kill us instantly?” You shrug, “Besides, where would I go? My uncle is the warden.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, you should probably go and put in an order for clothes and hygiene stuff. There’s enough clothes in storage that you’ll be fine for a bit, but they’re old.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” He murmurs.

“And you wanted me to look in on your brothers, right? Got any names?”

“My twin brother, Fives. And a couple of others. Jesse, Rex, Kix—”

You pass him a pad of paper and pen, “Here, write them down. And I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me after I find you answers, and not a moment sooner.” You flash a small smile at him and then turn to head back to the storage room. Echo needs the spare clothes from previous prisoners, and he’s going to need time to write down names.

Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to after all these years.

You hope that he warms up to you eventually. Or this is going to be a very long life sentence.

Eight months into his life sentence, Echo has to admit that it’s not terrible.

Oh, it’s not great by any definition of the word either. But it could be worse.

His cellmate is a stellar chef, a talent created through years of experimentation. Not to mention she’s quick-witted and clever, able to exchange quips and barbs with him without stumbling over her tongue.

She does talk a lot, though. Non-stop, almost. 

He’s not dumb, he knows that it’s a habit that she developed over two years of isolation to keep herself sane. Honestly, she talks almost as much as Fives does. Luckily, he’s used to that.

And, begrudgingly, he likes her. Likes her enough that he gives her a nickname, Firefly.

Likes her enough that, four months ago, his plans for an escape morphed into plans for the both of them to escape. He just has to work out a couple of bugs. 

Like how to keep them from dying when the poison gas fills the prison to kill them.

He frowns at the pad of paper, absently tapping his pencil against the diagram that he’s painstakingly mapped out. Echo never uses a datapad, if he can help it.

Fortunately, firefly keeps a bunch of notebooks on hand, and she doesn’t question him when he asks her to destroy a sheet of paper…or twenty.

“Whatcha working on?”

Echo glances up at her, “You really want to know?”

“Well, yeah.” She waves her pen at him, “You’ve been working on… whatever it is for the last eight months, and I’m curious.”

Echo leans back, “It’s an escape plan.”

“You’d leave me?” She asks immediately.

Echo rolls his eyes, “And escape plan for the both of us.”

Surprise flashes across her face, “You’d take me with you?”

“Would you prefer that I left you behind?”

“Ah, no.” She grins at him, “Honestly, I thought you hated me and were just being polite.”

Echo stares at her, “I gave you a nickname.” He says, exasperated.

“True, but as a friend or foe, you were very unclear.”

He laughs, “Who gives foe nicknames?”

“You clearly never met my friends.” She replies, “My bff had a nemesis who she called Furnace.”

“Do people have nemeses?”

“Uh, they do if they’re dramatic.”

He laughs again, “Well, I don’t do foe nicknames.”

She hops to her feet and crosses the living room to drop on the couch next to him and she flings her arms around his neck, “You loooove me~”

Echo presses his hand over her face and pushes her off of him, “Stop being silly.”

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes, “Anyway, this is what I have, but I’m stuck on how to deal with the poison gas.”

She ducks under his hand and leans against his shoulder, scanning the map. A thoughtful escapes her, and then she taps a spot on the map, “The Maintenence tunnels.”

“No, I considered that. They get too hot for a human to survive.”

“Yes, they do.” She agrees, “But if we alter a maintenance droid, the maintenance tunnels will stay cool enough for someone to survive the tunnel.”

“But the poison gas—”

“Is light.”

“Sorry?”

“The gas is very toxic, but it’s also a very light gas. It rises.”

“So, if we’re already in the maintenance tunnels—”

“And the temperature is high enough to hide our heat signatures—”

“Then by the time the gas fills the entire prison, we’ll already be gone.” Echo finishes, and then he pauses, “I thought you never tried to escape?”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t make plans. Hundreds of plans, each more impossible than the last.”

“Why didn’t you try to escape?”

“Escaping the prison is the easy part, Echo. Where would I go? I was a Separatist, the Republic never would have taken me in. It was just safer to stay here.”

“And now?”

“The Republic is no more, and the average person is finally starting to take off their rose-color glasses.” She shrugs, “We might actually be able to steal a ship.”

“Steal, huh?”

“Yeah, well. No one is going to just give us a ship, Echo.”

He laughs softly, “You ever hotwire a ship before?”

“You haven’t?”

“Oh? Where does a nice girl like you learn how to hotwire vehicles?”

“I had a very formative childhood.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Echo leans in so that his face is only an inch away from hers. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe I do love you.”

“You only love my ideas.”

“Your body isn’t that bad.”

“Rude!”

His grin widens, “So, when can we make this happen?”

“Mm…a week? Maybe two.”

“That soon, huh?”

“That soon.” She agrees.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and then Echo smirks, “So, how do we keep them from getting suspicious?”

“Well, we have to act normal.”

“And when we start spending all of our time together?”

“I dunno, I’m sure we can come up with something.” She says with a sigh.

A slow smirk crosses his face, “I think I have an idea.”

“Oh? Wha—” She squeaks when his lips land against hers, coaxing her into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against her lower lip, as he presses her back so that she’s half lying under him.

“Like that.” Echo breathes out as he supports his weight over her.

She blinks at him, wide-eyed, and deeply flustered, “Yeah. That’ll work.”

“Great, I’ll move into your room, cyare.”

“Um…okay. But the beds aren’t that big.”

Echo leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, “You let me worry about that.”

“And later? When we’re free from Serrano?”

“We stick together. After all, I can’t just abandon my girlfriend, right?”

“Girlfriend?” She asks softly.

“Girlfriend.” Echo agrees, “Unless you’d rather not?”

“Well, I’m not opposed.”

He grins at her, wide and boyish before he leans in and kisses her one more time, “Alright. I need to move my bed into your room. Wanna help?”

“I suppose I’d better.”

Echo rolls off of her, and offers her his hands to pull her to her feet. Fives is going to find this hilarious. He goes to prison and comes out on the other side with a girlfriend.

[cattimeswithjellie]

I do like the fact that in a session where there were three permadeaths, they were all so very different.

There was the useless, senseless accident that was Jimmy's death. Jimmy's death was unique because it was both preordained and fiercely denied. After three series with Jimmy the first permadeath, it's almost a game in itself to make it not happen again. People were willing to die to keep Jimmy from going out first. Bdubs, who was barely Jimmy's ally, literally begged Jimmy to kill him when Jimmy's timer ran into the single minutes. Scott jumped off a bridge to give Jimmy just a bit more time to live. Grian and Joel were on deck, ready to spoonfeed more life into Jimmy with their own deaths if they needed to, just to keep that canary chirping a little longer. But none of it mattered in the end, because Jimmy's foot slipped in a moment of excitement and he was too startled to pearl or bucket clutch or do anything to save himself. Gone in an instant for no reason and no chance to say goodbye.

There was Joel's death, a helpless, hopeless race against time and an implacable enemy. Joel made some serious tactical mistakes in his final episode. His gleeful killing alienated him from his allies, antagonizing the Clockers by killing Cleo, annoying the Nosy Neighbors by killing BigB. He griefed Scott's base with TNT twice, once tactically and once just because he wanted to blow stuff up. By the time he was down to the wire, there were lots of people who wanted him dead and barely anybody who wanted him alive. Even Grian, his Day One ally, eventually realized that trying to keep Joel alive was a losing proposition when Scott and Scar and Martyn and Cleo could siphon away Joel's time much faster than Grian could ever donate it. But even knowing that it was hopeless, even knowing that a _best case scenario_ would barely carry him into the next session, Joel fought desperately til his last second ticked away.

And then there was Skizz's death, premeditated and proud, carried out at the hands of a friend. Skizz had been dying from the very first day of the server. His Session One was absolutely atrocious, losing four hours right off the bat to back-to-back Bogey kills. No matter how well he played after that, no matter how many kills he got or plans he came up with, Skizz was never seriously in contention to win the game. And he knew that. He came up with alternate win conditions for himself. He set a goal to affirm every person on the server and he did. He set a goal to make the team he led a force to be reckoned with, and he did. And most importantly, he set a goal that somebody from TIES make it to the end of the game. By Session Seven, it was clear that Skizz wasn't going to be around to bring that goal to fruition himself. Time was not on his side, and his skill was just not there. Skizz is a clever redstoner and a good entertainer, but he's no PVPer and his bow skills are mediocre. Every time he tried to get a kill, he wound up losing more time. So when it came down to the wire, he didn't beg for his life or fight for more time, despite knowing his friends would give it to him. He called his team together and he gave them his new strategy. Someone from TIES needed to make it to the end, and it couldn't be him. But they could take his resources and his time forward with them, so long as he gave them up willingly. By sacrificing himself for his team, Skizz lost his last 20 minutes of life, but he put his team one step closer to that final goal.

There's probably only one session left, which means it's going to be choked with permadeaths that don't get focused or remarked on very much. Each one will be different though, each one will have its own flavor. In a series like Limited Life, the end is never in question, but the ending is unique to each player.

[thefruitonyourfly]

Just read a comment under a magireco Madoka's magical girl sequence that said "now Madoka is a badass" and I was like HUH

Like did some of you watched episode 12 blindfolded and with ear plugs? Because I don't think you guys truly grasp the scope of what Madoka did that episode: The Incubator has been on earth for a MILLENNIUM, meaning that has been thousand of girls before Madoka who have tried to outsmart his system and met a terrible fate for their attempts, but only Madoka has been able to beat him, do you guys understand that? The smartest and strongest girls have tried, but something always thwarted their plans—be it their potential not being that high or Kyuubey twisting their words so it would be in his favor instead—But Madoka had something they didn't and it was her circumstances (Homura and the timeloops), Madoka knew her wish would come at a great sacrifice, but just like Homura said in Rebellion "She rose to the occasion" because she knew it was something only she could do; No one would ever have the perfect circumstances to make that wish like Madoka. So, she did it.

When Madoka made her wish and Kyuubey hesitated for the first time in the series because he understood the implication of it, Madoka said to him: "Now, grant my wish, Incubator." When Kriemhild Gretchen was born and Kyuubey thought he had the advantage back again because this witch could literally swallow a planet and Madoka killed her with one shot. Madoka won, essentially. Like her system isn't perfect, Kyuubey isn't dead, and there's still suffering, but it was the best wish for the magical girl kind as a whole, and all improvements are only possible by what Madoka did here. She played within the Incubator's system and rewrote it. She is the most powerful character in the whole franchise and arguably one of the most powerful characters in anime. "But didn't Homucifer defeated Madokami?" Well, sort of. Homura's win is, ironically, also due to extreme circumstances, only Homura could've done that and only within this one scenario: and even when she won it's heavily implied that if Madoka even has a slightly moment of deja vu it's over for her, she can't win against Madoka on fair terms so even Homura herself can't achieve that feat again. That's just how powerful Madoka is.

Do you guys understand that?

And here's the thing: my problem with that statement isn't even that I don't think magireco Madoka isn't as cool as Madokami, I think she's badass too. Is just like, I thought we all thought Madoka was cool as herself?? Like even without being a magical girl or a fucking godess, Madoka was cool as shit. When Madoka risked her own life to save the lives of her friends and strangers at the warehouse? She had no powers, no backup, and had just watched Mami die to a witch and yet she still followed Hitomi. But people only want to see Madoka's character as what the witch showed her afterwards, her own survivors guilt and perceived weakness and cowardice over wanting to live and not be a magical girl despite what she promised Mami, and yet the scene prior to this conflicts with this idea. Madoka not only can risk her life for others and save them when the need arises, but she already has. Even without being a magical girl. It's just who she is. This, to me, is one Madoka Magica's core strenght as a show that Madoka spent the majority of it being the most "powerless" in almost every scenario and yet she still tried her best to overcome things, even when it didn't work It was never worthless, if anything it proved her own strenght of character and without it she would've never gotten as powerful how she is today.

If Madoka hadn't been kind to Homura on her first day of school, if she hadn't done the simple act of reaching out to someone she thought was kind shy, none of this would've have happened. Her kindness did this, not any other power.

My favorite thing about Madoka's character arc is that Madoka starts as a very naive opmitimisc girl and with a somewhat sheltered view of of the world, then she goes throught horrors few can understand and while she could (understably) become bitter with the world and grow to despise it, Madoka comes of it realizing...she was right. Madoka has felt the pain the world could give her in her own skin, has literally died, and she now thinks Hope is needed more than ever. And it saddens me a lot when people don't understand how strong and cool she is because of that, to be hurt and choose to be kinder and more understanding to yourself and the world in return, because the world can be better we just can't give up...

Basically what I'm saying with this that if you don't like Kaname Madoka, fuck you—