#because you're still relearning how to smile

[newbieineverything]

Wonder if Kaeya thought Diluc hated him, because when Diluc returned to Mond he was so different than when he was younger.

The Diluc he knew wears his emotions on his sleeves, be it anger, happiness, frustration, sadness,...etc.

But this Diluc is...blank. He's serious all the time. Blank face, annoyed frown, sarcastic/tired/professional voice it's only one of those three.

His brother who couldn't lie, who could only be described as sunshine personified who he could hide, be protected, bask and work in his shadow turned into someone who's always annoyed at worst or plain tired all the time at best.

How guilty could he have felt, to be a reason in this transformation. When did he start thinking that the three years away did more damage and that incident wasn't the only reason.

Does he stay up at night thinking that if he didn't encourage Diluc to leave, some of his brother's old personality, his faith in the world could have been salvaged?

When was he able to get close to Diluc again? To realize that even after everything it's still his brother. Yes, he changed but beneath all that he's still the brother who loved him.

#kaeya brainrot #like yeah there's also Diluc's pov on this #return home to find your introvert brother turned into an extrovert and now you dont know how to talk to ppl let alone your brother to #apologize #and the best you can do is let him do what he wants in your tavern #invite him to eat at the house bc addie misses you #try to protect him from the shadows #because you're still relearning how to smile #god i love them #genshin impact #genshin #ragbros #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich

[sergeantnex]

Zombie!Ghost x Reader: Relearning (Smut)

When I had been called in to work with Ghost, I knew it wasn't good. He had gotten bitten trying to save people. What was his higher-ups response to this? Break his jaw and keep him confined until a cure could be found. I knew this was going to require a lot of time and patience, fixing his broken jaw and figuring out how sentient he was. Most zombies were mindless and out of control, but Ghost... Ghost seemed aware and scared. So I made it my goal to be the only person he had contact with until he was better than the way I first got to him. I knew what I was doing was working because there were signs. His graying cold skin started to gain color and a bit of warmth. His pale blue cloudy eyes began regaining their brown. Each progression was little, but I noticed them and made sure to take pictures of him every day, marking and labeling the pictures.

Ghost seemed nervous, for lack of a better word, when it came to relearning to eat and drink. So I took the lead, showing him and letting him touch me as I did. Before I gently aided him in eating and drinking, making sure to reassure him that it would take time and that I would still be here to help him. Most days were like that, helping him readjust to simple things, but one big thing remained that I felt needed to be done. Bathing him. He still smelled of blood and death, the dried blood and filth still clinging to his skin and clothing. So I went into his old room, gathered up a pair of underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt. They were clean compared to the ruined gear and uniform he was still wearing. I grabbed a soft wash cloth and gentle body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Once it was all set up in the private bathroom, I went to enter Ghost's room. His pale brown eyes looked up at me as I stepped in. My (h/l) (h/c) softly pulled away from my face and my (e/c) eyes locking with his.

"I've got something different planned today, okay?" I said softly, watching as Ghost tilted his head curiously.

"I wanna give you a shower, help clean away some of the dried blood and grime. Don't worry, I'll be right there, okay?" I reassured him softly as I offered my hand. Ghost was slow in taking my hand before letting me lead him to the private bathroom. I took the time to slowly remove his ruined gear, setting it all in the corner before softly speaking to him.

"I need to remove your mask, okay? I made sure to grab one of your clean balaclavas from your room." He shook his head at my words and stepped back. It broke my heart. He already felt safe with his mask before he was turned, but having people you trust break your jaw and say such crude things probably made him feel even more nervous to take it off.

"Hey, Simon, it's just me with you. There are no cameras, no one else but you and I. It's okay... you're safe with me." I reassured softly as I gently took his hand and gently touched it to my heart. It was small, but the action told him I was honest. I did it to show him I was honest. Every time I said something like that, I touched his hand to my heart. He was slow to give in, but eventually, he let me pull the ruined mask off. I gently sat it on the sink counter before gently working on his ruined clothes. I made sure to set them all aside before I turned to start the water. I kept it a bit lower than room temp to make sure it wasn't too hot or too cold. I looked back at him and softly turned the water so it wouldn't hit his skin directly.

"Okay, big guy, let's get you cleaned up, okay?" I asked with a small loving smile. Ghost gently tugged my shirt before looking at his ruined clothes. It took me a minute to understand what he was asking, but after a bit, it clicked. He wanted me to join him, to guide him like I had been doing for everything else. Smiling, I gently stripped my clothes before softly leading him to the large walk-in shower. The water was a bit colder than my normal temperature, so it was a bit of a shock when I touched it with my arm. Ghost, ever the vigilant one, noticed my shuttered breath and tilted his head.

"I made sure it was perfect for you, so it's a bit cooler than my body's temperature. Don't worry, it's okay, see?" I gently stepped my body under the water to show him I didn't mind too much. Ghost stepped forward and tugged me close to him as though he wanted to keep me warm. I smiled softly and took the time to gently wet the wash cloth and softly wipe his face. I smiled more at the sight of how much he had actually healed. Of course, there was scaring, but there was no longer decaying flesh. I softly wet his dirty blonde hair, taking special care to not pull his hair. All in all, my heart warmed at the progression of his healing. Sticking to our usual form of relearning, I washed myself first before washing him. I started with his hair and face before moving down his neck and chest. With each rinse of the blood and grime, he looked more and more human again.

I gently moved lower as I washed him, kneeling to wash his waist. I did my best not to stare or let my hand linger when I gently began washing his dick. I gently held his length and balls as I continued my work of washing him up. My mind wondered as I absent-mindedly washed his legs. Could he still get hard? Could he still feel desires or needs? Or would that take longer and more healing? I stood to rinse the cloth and ready more soap but froze as Ghost leaned his chin on my shoulder. I softly reached back and gently carded my fingers through his wet hair. I jumped as his hand softly cupped my vulva, his middle finger slipping between my labia majora. I let out a shuttering breath as his middle finger gently pressed against my entrance.

"Ghost -" I started but stopped at the feeling of his hardening dick touching me. I glanced up at him to see his pale brown eyes watching me. "Ghost, do you know what you're doing right now?"

Ghost nodded softly, a low, rumbling purr bubbling up from his throat. I wouldn't lie. It had been years since I've had such intimacy or contact like this. I whined softly when he pulled back a bit before pressing me to bend over. Following his instructions, I bent at the hips, letting him do as he pleased. I gasped at the coolness of his tongue, lapping at my outer lips. His slightly rough tongue reminded me that Ghost wasn't fully human. He still very much could kill me, bite me, and turn me as well. But as quickly as the anxiety rose, it washed away. Ghost pressed his tongue between my labia majora, letting it rub at my clit before trailing to my entrance. His saliva was shockingly warm as it created a contrast to his cool skin. Whining I reached a hand to hold Ghost's rough hand gently squeezing as he ate me out like a starved man.

Ghost stood, his erect dick rubbing against me as he pressed his hips forward. My mind foggy with arousal and my body aching to be fucked, I moved to help him. I softly pressed the tip to my opening and let him press his hips forward again. His thick shaft stretched my walls beautifully, each inch making me feel fuller and fuller. I moaned out as he finally bottomed out, his hips flush against mine. His rough, firm hands gripped my hips as he pulled out before thrusting forward. I gasped loudly and moaned out at the rough pace he was setting instantly. His grip was firm enough to bruise as he kept thrusting into me quickly. I brought my arms up to brace on the wall as I soaked up each time he bottomed out. Ghost brought one hand up to grip the back of my neck as he pinned me to the wall. Growls and groans leaving him as he fucked me so deeply.

Each thrust filled me so perfectly as his balls slapped my clit just enough to add extra stimulation. I could feel my muscles quivering and tensing as my orgasm approached. His tip kissing my cervix each time he sank all the way in. Ghost leaned in mouthing at my shoulder like he was going to bite me. I knew I should've been alarmed, but I my mind was too foggy with the need to cum that it blew caution to the wind. His hot drool gently trailed down my body only to get rinsed away by the water. His disfigured hand covered my mouth a bit as I grew louder with each thrust. My knees began shaking as my walls pulsed around his shaft. I mewled out loudly, the sound muffled by his hand as I began cumming. My hand desperately grasped at his arm as euphoria flooded my body and mind.

A heavy growl filled my muffled hearing as Ghost also began spilling his seed inside me. The fluid was hot as it squirted deep inside me, some of it seeping out past his thick shaft and began running down my legs. My body felt so tired and yet so satisfied as Ghost pulled away. I could feel his eyes take in the sight of the mess he made of me before a pleased rumble filled the quiet. I felt oddly content and relaxed at what happened. It took me a few minutes to regain my strength before I turned the water off and exited the shower. Ghost following closely behind, I took time to grab his towel and dry him off before helping him get dressed. Once I fixed his mask, I began drying and dressing myself. Ghost's cool fingers softly scooped his leaking seed before lifting it to my lips. Without hesitation, I licked his cum off his finger drawing another pleased rumble from him.

"This better not mess with my body, mister." I lightly scold him. Ghost merely rumbled and held me close a bit. I smiled and led him back to his room before laying on his bed with a soft sigh as my legs felt weak from him fucking me in the shower. Ghost climbed next to me, where he softly held me close. A sense of safety and warmth washed over me, letting my tired body subconsciously lure me to sleep. I knew no one, and nothing could touch me as long as I had Ghost with me. No matter if he was human or not, I knew I was safe with him.

"I love you, Simon..." I whispered as I fought to keep my eyes open. My mind drifted between reality and the dream world as I fought to stay awake. His cool hand gently moved to play with my hair as he watched me.

"Love... you..." His words were deeper and more gravelly, more so than his usual. Smiling sleepily, I snuggled closer to him, letting my body give in to tiredness.

#cod fandom #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw3 x reader #cod ghost #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader smut #cod ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #x reader #x reader smut #smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley smut

[poisonousroxstar]

If you're still doing bayonetta, could you do some headcannons of tokyo!bayo with a reader that wants to Rollerblade/skate but is a bit clumsy? I loved roller blading/skating and I fall a lot after not doing it for a long time. The relationship can be platonic or the reader can be bayos child.

Bite-sized Imagine:

Learning to rollerskate with Tokyo!Bayonetta

Plot: Tokyo!Bayo teaches you to skate!

Contains: Yandere (nothing shown.)

Notes: I hope you guys had an amazing Halloween! Been super duper lazy :/)

B1 Bayonetta, Shibuyanetta, or simply Tokyo!Bayo is very encouraging of her darling's endeavors. I see Tokyo!Bayo being more like a sister-figure then a mother figure, as she seems to have more of a teen street-kid personality then the other Bayos.

Your clumsiness is something she both finds cute and concerning. Cute, because you look adorable and funny whenever you trip over yourself, and concern because of how frequently you hurt yourself. You remind her of Luka sometimes.

She's happy to teach you to rollerskate or relearn to rollerskate. She encourages you to keep going after every fumble, but she will tease you here and there so be ready. It's never mean-spirited, though.

When your skating improves, Tokyo!Bayo will definitely skate with you more frequently. She'll show off a ton of her tricks to you, many of which you probably won't be able to replicate. Any praise you give her gets a cocky smile from Tokyo!Bayo.

The moments you two have to yourselves as you skate become a bonding thing for you both, cruising the streets of Shibuya on your rollarskates.

If you're a witch/sage, contracted with the same demon/similar angel, these skating moments definitely become apart of your angel/demon hunts. Tokyo!Bayo will definitely have a competition against you on who can get the most kills with their rollarskates first.

To add onto that, she'll definitely have a race against you. Now, she'll go easy on you -- especially if you're not magical -- but will definitely make a lot of playful comments during all of it. She does still get a bit concerned if you trip a lot still, but she'll always be there to give you support no matter what.

#x reader #x s/o #x y/n #imagines #yandere platonic #bayonetta #bayonetta x s/o #bayonetta x y/n #bayonetta x reader #yandere bayonetta #bayonetta x you #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #bayonetta 3 #game x reader #game x y/n #game x s/o #g/n reader #g/n s/o #g/n y/n #gn y/n #gn s/o #x gn reader #soft yandere

[slocumjoe]

Do you have any random headcanons about any of the comapnions that you want to get off your chest?

Oh, 100%. A lot of this is mostly inter-personal headcanons, how they react to each other. Very found-family based, heavily pushing my "Hancock and Danse become besties" agenda. Less based on the individual. Oh, and follows the "all move to Sanctuary" thing, so people who don't like that might not buy in to this.

Companion Headcanon Grab-bag

Cait; Really confused about her sexuality internally. Has changed her mind on her labels so many times. Is she gay? Bi? Pan? Straight? Ace? Sex-repulsed? Hypersexual? She likes sex sometimes and other times she hates the concept. What's her type of person, if any? What does she want out of a relationship? Just sex? What would she need in a partner? Tries to not think about it, so damn confusing. Just follows her whims. Would get on great with an elder queer person, really needs some guidance there. Also, has a fear of monkeys, apes, etc. Jangle toys and those cymbal monkeys. Fucking horrifying.

Codsworth; Babies the other companions like a mom. Putters around the bunkhouse making sure Piper eats something before she's out the door, cleaning up after Hancock's midnight snack, picking MacCready's coat off the back of a chair, hovering to block Danse's view of the coffee pot as Nick adds honey and sugar for him specifically. It's one house with a dozen adults of questionable emotional and mental stability. It's a robot butler's Olympics. Outside of the others...has spent two centuries trying to kill one single radroach. Its the same one, he's sure of it. It lives under the bridge and appears only under a full moon. It is his mortal enemy.

Curie; The most intimidating girl in the bunkhouse, not Cait. Because Curie doesn't put up with any bullshit. You look pale, come here and let—come here and let her feel your forehead. Too hot, you're taking the day off. She'll make you some tea—no, Danse, she doesn't care if that one joint on your Power Armor is bugging you. Bed. Does she need to go get Nick? She'll get Nick. Excellent! What kind of tea would you like? Curie is very sweet and caring, but she’s a hardass when it comes to the health of her compatriots. And you can't just...refuse. Maybe you could, but...no one's ever tried. Even Gage gives up once she smiles and tilts her head, but narrows her eyes. Fucking Gage.

Danse; You can tell he's feeling under the weather, be it mental or physical, if he hides from Curie. Danse ends up getting on pretty well with Hancock, Nick, Cait, and Preston once he's better from BB. Hancock reminds him a lot of Cutler, in some ways. Cait reminds him of many Initiates, hotheaded and eager but lost on their place in the world. Nick mentors him on the synth thing, and he and Preston are very similar. Once he's mostly adjusted from everything, adopts a...questionable wardrobe, things he would have worn in the Brotherhood if not for the uniform. Adores gaudy, odd-patterned shirts, bright colors.

Deacon; After the Institute is dealt with, by any means, and he has something of a support group with Sole and the others...goes back to Deacon. Its hard, it takes a lot of time, but he stops the home-grown identity crisis. He grows his hair out again, gets a charming grey-red stubble. Still likes costumes and such, but he tries to stay the one person, not fake anything. Again, very difficult. But he tries. Has an odd kinship with X6-88. X6-88 tries to figure out his identity, Deacon tries to relearn his. Also gets along better with Danse and Hancock, understands the "who am I" thing. But the real pals? Deacon and Jun Long. Jun's hype man. Gets what he went through; University Point was destroyed long after Deacon left, but that was still his home. And losing his son...Deacon respects that Jun kept chugging. Tries to help him regain his confidence.

Gage; This is a domesticated Gage, as much as Gage can be domesticated. Always has a horrific story that he likes to pepper into conversations. Deacon tries to one-up him, but Gage always wins, partially because Gage is telling the whole-ass truth. Never says anything about himself, though. Socially hovers around Longfellow, really curious about all of his stories. But Gage keeps his distance far, faaaar from everyone else. Marcy Long swung a folding chair at him, his first day visiting Sanctuary. Thinks little of Preston at first, but the moment he notices that they're almost the same person, just on the other side of the coin, has a crisis. Catches himself not criticizing Preston at one point, when he could have, and has to start a fistfight with him to feel better. Gets along great with Shaun and other local kids, who are into his raider stories. Marcy keeps hunting him for sport, though, so he only has a few minutes to talk before a rake goes for the other eye.

Hancock; Opinion of Danse does a complete flip the very second Danse apologizes. Hancock rubbed it all in his face, took schadenfreude in it. Then Danse's mental health dissolved into goo, and it stopped being funny. And then Hancock felt like fucking shit when the racist technofacist was the bigger man who felt terrible looking back on everything. It took time for their relationship to go from hostile, to civil, to friendly, but Hancock is basically a sphinx cat that wants to drape himself over Danse and cuddle all day. Danse, for his part, is grateful that Hancock could forgive him at all. Also, considers MacCready a brother, no exaggeration. Bobby is his little brother, Duncan is his nephew, blood be damned. It's good for him, after what happened with McDonough. Still refuses to process that. He never was on good terms with him, anyway, but...nope, not thinking about it. Doesn't do chems around Duncan, knows Bobby is iffy about it.

MacCready; Really didn't want to introduce Hancock to Duncan, for fear of Duncan having some...lingering memories about Ghouls. Nope. Duncan loves Uncle John to the moon and back. If Hancock isn't hugging on Danse, he's hugging on Duncan. Also befriends Jun, though he feels some guilt at his baby having survived. MacCready spends a lot of his downtime trying to educate himself, reads. Does those school workbooks if he can find them. Is really entertained by the notes left from the students using them, then gets miserable when he thinks about what happened to them. Incredible at any accuracy-based game. Don't challenge this man to ping-pong.

Nick; Resident therapist. Has, in earnest, considered installing a confessions box in the bunkhouse. Just when he thinks he's heard the worst of their lives, Hancock will remember that his brother buried him alive, or Piper mentions that her dad kept twitching at the funeral as they burned him, or Gage says one sentence about an ex-boyfriend. Then he reminds himself, yeah, these kids are Traumatized with a capital T. Wishes he could drink. Has a list of people to check on in order of priority, every week. Preston is first, Gage is last. Both reasons being, both have so many issues, but won't talk about them. Bangs his head on a wall when he notices this. Sits with Codsworth some afternoons and they share a private nervous breakdown. Has considered getting a gen 3 body, but...he'd want a custom, not someone else's, like Curie's situation. And not like OG Nick, either. Himself. Whatever that looks like.

Piper; Not over her parents dying and never will be. She was 14 when her dad died. Mom died giving birth to Nat. Had to be a mom, and then a mom and a dad, when she herself was a kid, still. Clings to the newspaper because it was all she had, her only power as a little girl alone in the Commonwealth with a toddler. Things get easier, but never less painful. Relocating to Sanctuary made things a bit better, especially since McDonough couldn't threaten to throw them out anymore. Jumped and screamed in place when she was proven right about him. Stopped when she noticed Hancock upset. Continued when she was out of his view, but quieter. Befriends everyone to some extent, but Gage. Gage has some...irritating opinions on the press, chief being, "Hey, you got everyone to kill each other, sounds like. What, that weren't the goal?"

No. What kind of name is Porter, anyway? Ugh.

Preston; So much pent up anger and frustration. Will never let it out. The restraint it takes to keep from maiming Gage like a fucking alligator could hold up the Prydwen if made a physical force. Very confused on what Gage thinks of him, though. Seems to change daily. But hey, he's always down to throw Gage out of a window. 10/10 way to spend an afternoon, eagerly looking forward to next time. Goes drinking with Danse often. Keeps an eye on Nick, sends Sturges his way if he starts making odd noises when he moves. Tries to keep some distance from the others. He lost people he thought family on Quincy...and some them, they didn't die. That was the bitterest thing of all, that they lived before anyone else.

X6-88; Has an interest in art but loathe to act on it. Very attached to his coat. Had a father figure in the Institute, was his personal servant. That man was killed by a rogue synth. X6-88 joined the courser program after the funeral. Protective of Shaun, ends up being popular with his child friends/classmates, who are all curious about the tall, dark man who doesn't speak much but holds Shaun's hand. Privately, X6-88 considered himself a child, young, once. Shaun is literally a child synth. That has to be confusing, being the ghost of dead man, made for his living parent. Dislikes Gage the most, dislikes Piper and Danse the least. Learns to respect Preston, even if he disagrees on his philosophies; at least someone on the top was trying to restore the world, even if it wasn't quite working. Has a fondness for sour apple candy.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #porter gage #codsworth

[mj-iza-writer]

"Whumpee, are you ok?", Caretaker's spouse came running up the sidewalk.

Whumpee took a massive spill on the pavement. They were trying to relearn riding a bike. Whoever penned the statement, 'it's like riding a bike you never forget' definitely was never held captive and tortured for 5 months.

"I'm alright, they started to sit up, that was nothing compared to....", Whumpee stopped, "well you know."

Caretaker's spouse helped them up the rest of the way and looked them over, "you skinned your knee, there is some blood."

"I think I'll take a break for today, my body is starting to shake a little again", they looked at their knee.

They took a step and fell forward, but they fell into someone.

"Nice catch sir" Whumpee let out a small laugh, "same as always, you're always there to catch me."

Caretaker let Whumpee lean into him and helped him back up to the house, Caretaker's spouse trailed behind them with the bike.

Once inside, Caretaker did a once over Whumpee to make sure they were okay, his spouse helped clean and bandage the knee.

"Well, I'm like new again", Whumpee smiled at both of them.

"Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered into Caretaker's office later that night.

"Yes Whumpee, how can help you", he asked before spinning around in his chair. When he spun around though, he was shocked to see Whumpee in tears. He sprung up, "are you okay?"

"Shh, I didn't want your spouse to see me like this, honestly, I didn't want you to see me like this either", Whumpee limped in, still feeling weak.

Caretaker helped Whumpee to the sofa, "you know you don't have to hide things from me, I'd prefer you didn't"

Whumpee started to sob, "I know I'm sorry."

Caretaker's spouse rounded the corner, and peaked in. Whumpee sat up and quickly wiped their face.

"Is everything alright?", they asked concern spread on their face.

"Yes, Whumpee just needs a minute" Caretaker smiled, "they need some privacy if that's ok."

"Yes of course", their spouse quickly left.

"Tell me what's going on Whumpee", Caretaker turned around to face them, "how can I help."

"I'm trying to get through all of the trauma, and the minute I think I've progressed. I fall. I keep getting reminders of what happened to me and what I can no longer do. I try to put on a brave face because I so appreciate what you both have done for me. I do not want to seem ungrateful at all. I'm starting to fall again though."

Caretaker made a movement that caught Whumpee's attention. They looked up to see Caretaker holding his hands out.

"Then fall" Caretaker gently stated, "just like you said earlier, I'm always there to catch you. My spouse and I know you can't always be brave and strong like you want to be. We don't expect that at all. You just came out of a horrible situation, and you survived those months all by your own willpower."

"My body isn't", Whumpee paused starting to cry again.

"Your body got you through a lot, you survived. Your body now needs to be given time to rest, it will catch up and grow strong in its time. You have to allow that", Caretaker pulled up a stool and sat in front of Whumpee, "think about what you and that body went through, you've only been recuperating for a few months", Caretaker patted Whumpee's leg comfortingly. "Do you trust what I am saying?"

"Yes sir", Whumpee smiled, "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize", Caretaker handed Whumpee a tissue, "I'm glad you let me know."

#whump community #whump writing #whump stuff #whump ideas #whumpee #whump #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking

[writingpei]

wicked games (l.m.) - chapter eleven

previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: academic rivals to lovers wc: 2.4k words

savior complex

people tend to say good things don't last. y/n just hoped it could have lasted longer.

it had been a while since she genuinely smiled at things, but that day was really very special, an immense gratification, a step towards her future. but you can't have everything, in fact, she thought it would be asking too much for that feeling to last.

when she stepped into the house and saw her mom sitting at the desk, buried in a sea of ​​papers, y/n knew nothing good was coming.

the tired look, the white hair, the lazy smile. it seemed that her mother aged more with each passing day.

“darling, you arrived” she greets as soon as she steps inside the house.

“you are home earlier” y/n says, cautiously approaching the table where she sat like a boogeyman, facing a truth she didn't want to discover.

the papers on the table were bills, many, many of them.

“got the day off” she explains, going back to using the calculator and noting obscene amounts of money in her old notebook. "how was your day?"

“good” she replies, but she was already lying. the happiness of his success had already become past, left behind. “what is all this?” she then decides to ask.

her mother stares at the stacks of papers for a few seconds, no response. it is then that she gives y/n a weak and apologetic smile, in a kind of apology.

“you're old enough to know…” she starts, and y/n wants to say no, run and cry and scream that she's not big, that she's still a kid, that she still needs to be lied to and protect her ears from what she doesn't need to listen. in the end, she just stands there, anticipating what's to come. “it's getting harder every month. the landlord raised the rent again. i don't know where else to get money from, we can't cut anything else. i think i’m going to have to do more overtime at the hospital or something."

she doesnt have an answer, she just keeps looking at her mother. she already comes home pretty exhausted everyday, if she worked more overtime she probably wouldn't even sleep anymore. worry and pain must be written on her face, because her mother takes her hand in hers, giving her another apologetic smile.

“i’m sorry, i'm sorry for not being able to give you the conditions i'd like” she starts to say, but her voice is nothing more than a calm and affectionate whisper, an apology from the one who did everything he could. “i know you wish you had a better uniform, better materials, a better college outlook, but i can't give you that”

the strange and rare feeling of burning eyes that fill with tears hits her hard. maybe it's her tone of voice, maybe it's the icy touch of her palms against hers, but the melancholy in the air takes y/n in such a way that she relearns the feeling of crying. she had always suppressed crying, labeled as pathetic, the most physical display of weakness there could be, but here, after years without the damned drops running down her cheeks, the hot tears flow freely, devoid of any control she might have had over them.

“i don't care about that” she says, through the water. “i don't care about these things, mom. i don't mind wearing someone else's uniform, i don't mind working and getting into college my way” the tears flow uncontrollably and her knees lose strength, causing her body to wither into the other chair at the table . “i just don't want you to kill yourself at work over this. i don't want you to get sick, to push your limits”

“aw, my baby…” her mother whispers, running her hand through her daughter's hair, sadness abiding in her eyes.

“don't worry about it mom” she says. “i will find a way”

y/n was never a person who feared the reality of the world around her. she wasn't afraid or ashamed to live up to it, to play the game by its rules. so the walk to school was longer the next morning, having to make a detour to print out several copies of her extensive curriculum for a high school student.

the sky was gray, it looked like the light of the day before it was just an illusion, a bad joke. she was quieter than usual too, a flood of thoughts invading her senses. hyunjin noticed that since the tutor session started, she barely looked at him, it didn't seem like she was there at all.

the source of his questions was satisfied when he opened a folder she had held out to him, where the chemistry exercises for the next class were supposed to be. instead, he was only faced with the endless curriculums.

“i think…” he started after a few seconds of just staring at the folder. “i think you gave me the wrong folder”

that sparked the girl's first real reaction that day. her eyes widened slightly and she quickly reached for her backpack and dug around vigorously until she pulled out a folder identical to the one in his hands. she switched the two, extending it the correct one this time, but no words escaped her lips.

"are you looking for a job?" the exercises have been completely ignored and set aside, and he places his elbows on the table and stretches to get closer to her.

“are you looking for an excuse not to do what you have to do?” she rolls her eyes but practically refuses to look at him. “like always…”

“come oooon” he says when he sees her trying to change the subject. “are you or not?”

“yes” she says after a few seconds of debating within herself whether or not to expose herself to him. hyunjin had a habit of digging into her thoughts and pulling out information that she definitely didn't want to speak aloud from her, a natural talent of the talkative boy. “what is it to you, anyway? the test is next week, you better study or else-”

“what kind of job are you looking for?” her words barely get through to him, and he seems strangely interested in it, which only meant one thing: he wasn't going to drop the subject until she'd told him everything he wanted to know.

"any type. one that gives money, preferably” he laughs at her sarcasm instead of taking offense.

“look…” he leans even further over the table, his blond hair falling in front of his eyes since he was without his usual sporty headband. “i think i know of a place that has been in need of some extra help for quite some time, do you want me to mention that i know of someone who is interested in the job?” he asks, a proud smile playing on his lips.

she looks at him with narrowed eyes for a few seconds, frown apparent on her face.

“no” she replies, simply, and hyunjin is extremely confused by her answer.

"no?" he questions, frown now on his own face.

"no"

"why not?"

“what is it to you?” she crosses her arms and walks away, leaning back in the antique library chair.

“what is it to me? what do you mean?" it just gets more confused.

“why do you care? this, the flyers, why do you keep doing these things for me?” she questions. that was something that had popped into her head more times than she liked. the strangeness of the attention that hyunjin gave her caused a pani in her system, an endless confusion. she needed answers. maybe it was just his personality, a savior complex, a teenage boy who considers himself invincible, a superhero. but what comes out of his mouth is not an option she found valid during all the time she invested thinking about the hypotheses.

“oh” when he realizes it, he gives a light chuckle as if he understands it completely. “because we” he points to both of them. "we are friends"

she blinks a few times looking at him in disbelief.

“what?” is what manages to escape your lips.

“friends” he opens a big smile.

“since when?”

“since we started doing this” he points to the table covered with books and notes. “duh”

“is this your concept of friendship?” she asks, genuinely, pushing back the chair and cringing a little.

“what is yours?” he retorts, and she is overcome with a strange feeling. she had nothing to say to him about that and he knew it. “listen, there is nothing in it for me” he blurts out. “to me, we are friends. what you are doing for me means a lot, so i wanted to do the things in my power to repay you. i could never get better the way i’m getting if it weren't for you. because of that, let me set you up with an appointment at this place, i know the owner and he's genuinely been in need of more people for a while, so it wouldn’t hurt”

the sincerity in his voice brings an odd sense of comfort to her, the chance of getting a job sooner than expected also eases her shoulders.

“okay” is all she manages to say amid the unusual feelings of gratitude that bloom without her permission.

“i'll make get an interview for tomorrow right after school. i'll be at the gate waiting for you then let's go together. but listen, no running away huh?” he says, faking a hard face.

“okay,” she replies quietly, rolling her eyes. "i'll be there"

and she amazingly, to her own surprise, thought nothing of running away. when the bell rings the next day announcing the end of classes, she grabs her backpack and strides to the school entrance, not wanting to leave him waiting for her there and risk being late for her interview.

her storm of thoughts is brutally interrupted when, already outside the school, she feels her wrist being held by someone.

“my god, you walk fast don't you?” minho pulls his tie down and loosens it, taking a deep breath trying to recover. “why are you in such a hurry?” he asks, but her attention is diverted to his fingers that are still holding her wrist, even though he made her stop and give him attention, he didn't make any move to break the contact.

her eyes take in the scene warily, the way his hand circles her arm so close to her hand, the audacity of his touch, as if he could touch her whenever he wanted.

“what do you want?” she asks, taking his hand off her arm and taking a step back. “i don't have time today, minho”

“well, it's good that what i have to tell you is quick and you'll love to know” he takes a step forward, recovering the distance she created between the two of them, a goofy smile appearing on his face as usual, holding a secret behind those rosy lips, something only she could know, only she could hear. "i-"

“y/n!” she hears someone calling her further ahead, where the entrance gate is. hyunjin is in his team uniform like he usually is, his duffel bag slung lazily over his shoulders. he comes running towards the two, and the air around them changes completely, along with minho's mood that seems to shatter in seconds. "there you are. come on, we can't be late�� he says when he arrives right in front of the two. when hyunjin finally sees minho next to her, a friendly smile appears on his face. “hey man”

“i’m talking to her” is the only answer minho is willing to give, his barriers coming up in a matter of seconds.

y/n starts to think that hyunjin is immune to hostility, as his good mood doesn't waver, his posture remains standing tall as ever.

“sorry to interrupt you two, but we kinda have something” he points at you, and minho's icy gaze hits her skin in a way it never has before.

“it's not like i was dying to talk to you anyway” she whispers to minho, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders and walks over to hyunjin. “you'll have many other opportunities to try to drive me mad, but i’m busy today"

instead of minho's standard sarcastic response, she only gets silence. a weird look comes to his eyes as they flit from her to hyunjin, then back to her again. he takes a little step back with his lips pressing together, as if he's been betrayed.

“okay” is all he says before turning around and disappearing into the school once more. something weird rises in her chest, a feeling she can't explain, almost guilt. but it was obvious that there was something wrong with his own head. why would I feel guilty about telling minho off? him leaving her alone was all she wanted, or at least that's what she thought she did.

“come on, let’s go” hyunjin pokes her on the shoulder to get her attention, and the two start walking side by side. “it's a good walk”

y/n had never walked with anyone after school before, but the walk was strangely quiet and pleasant. when they passed a children's school, a group of kids pointed at hyunjin and started talking loudly about his hair, the different and striking color.

she never had a friend before, and she wondered if this was how it was supposed to be.

“the owner of this place is my cousin. it's a cafe” he brings up the subject for the first time during the journey. “as it is in a very rich part, it is practically only old people who go there, so it will be very easy”

in front of the cafe, the part of being in a very wealthy neighborhood does justice to the architecture there. elderly couples and small families tend the tables, and the smell of coffee that fills her nostrils as soon as they step inside overwhelms her senses.

“sooo, what did you think?” hyunjin asks her, putting his hands on his hips and looking around with a proud smile.

“i like it”

stay tuned for chapter 12! new chapters every sunday ☆

taglist: @liphglos @kiyoomimybeloved @lilactangerine @swiftlydirectioning @lethallyprotected @yhawnnzz @whatthefsposts @sleepyleeji (if you want to be a part of the taglist, send me an ask, comment or message <3)

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin #lee minho x reader #pei writes #lee minho x you #leeknow #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz headcanons

[woozihaes]

pairing: s.coups x reader warning: character death, unknown illness, which both spell heavy angst. barely any smut but just in case this is rated pg-13. lowercase intended. not proofread because i wrote this in like half an hour.

-

in the morning

-

it's funny how life gets violently put into perspective when you discover you have a deadline.

"three months," your doctor says morosely. it goes unsaid that he means, you have three months to live.

your fingers turn cold, your throat becomes dry.

what do i do now?

-

you call one of your oldest friends, and you meet for coffee. you tell him what the doctor told you, and you ask him for a favor.

jihoon takes you in with sad, wet eyes, and hears your request. "are you sure?"

you nod, fingers curling into a fist. "yeah. i... he should..." you choose your words carefully. "i don't want what happened to be the end of us. i..." you swallow, "it shouldn't end this way."

he understands and reaches for his phone.

-

anger, frustration, sadness. it's all in his eyes.

"when did you find out?" seungcheol asks, his lip trembling.

you deliver the news as if your life wasn't hanging in the balance. "three weeks ago."

he runs a hand through his face, clearly frazzled. "three months? i—" he takes a deep breath and looks you straight in the eye. "why tell me?"

the question makes your eyes water, for the first time since you heard the news. you supposed repeating it over and over again to the people who matter has made you numb, but you suppose you're a fool to think that anything that had anything to do with choi seungcheol wouldn't strip you bare and turn you inside out.

tears slip down your cheeks, and you can't bring yourself to speak. all you do is catch your face in your hands and sob.

his arms are warm around you.

-

the sting of a reopened old wound is something you will never get used to.

i was wrong. i treated you poorly. i should have been more honest. i should have never said those things. did reasons even matter when time was so precious?

but you need to talk about it, so you do. seungcheol's tears mirror your own as you hold him close, his litany of apologies weighing down your chest. you kiss him to silence him, and he understands.

you both shouldn't be looking for forgiveness.

there's not enough time.

-

the first month together is fine. relearning him is easier since this wasn't new to you; all the unlearning you did at the (apparently temporary) death of your relationship barely helped, because it's like you never broke up.

his body feels the same, the way he fills you feels even better. the way his fingers brush over your skin is familiar and the way his lips press over yours is incredible. you're naked in bed most of the time, and who can blame two reunited lovers?

his smiles are warm and kind and his laughs are rich and hearty, his touch his charged and wanting and his kisses are loving and heated.

it's like nothing has ever been wrong.

and it is, until you drop your fork and can't pick it up no matter how hard you try.

-

you're weakening, but the three months doesn't claim you.

four months, you count silently, looking out the window. your hair is thinner so is your frame, but you can still move, at least for the most part. it's more than what you could ask for.

the door to your apartment opens and closes, and you turn to greet seungcheol.

you don't miss that his smile is strained.

-

"it's hard to love a dying person!" he yells, and you almost can't believe that he said those words to you. the regret is immediate on his face, but you don't notice it through your blurry vision and the sound of your heart breaking.

you fall to your knees, apologies streaming from your lips. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i'm sick. i'm sorry i'm doing this to you. i'm sorry you have to go through this. please just leave me.

he doesn't. he cries and cries and cries, next to you on the floor, repeating your same prayer. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i said that. i'm sorry i'm hurting you. i'm sorry i'm not a better person.

you think that maybe both of you just carries each other's regrets in your hearts.

-

the stress is getting to him, he explains when you're both calmer and more willing to understand. he loves you, he truly does. but he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"what if i wake one morning," he says, voice rough with pain, "and you don't?"

his plight is darkening the circles beneath his eyes and tiring him out.

you swallow and nod. you understand.

"maybe," you whisper, "maybe you should leave me now. before that morning comes."

seungcheol shakes his head and kisses you silent.

-

the problem refuses to be ignored.

you feel like an invalid in your bed, seungcheol attending to your every need. he fetches you food and water, holds your hand as you hobble to the bathroom, wipes away your tears as you cry about he doesn't deserve it.

"i don't want that morning to come," you sob. your hand tries to reach for his, but your muscles refuse to move. he meets you half way, and you try to squeeze any part you can reach. your fingers brush against his palm.

"you don't get to decide that," he tells you patiently, delicately lacing your fingers together.

you cry harder.

-

no matter how much it hurts to see your life being drained away from you, seungcheol cannot leave.

he hears you try to say something, but your mouth is failing you. groans slip past your lips, and tears fall from your eyes. it hurts to look at you, once so vibrant, but he refuses to lean away from every possible moment.

it's one of the few he has left.

he understands, though. i love you.

he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. his cheeks are cold with tears. he thinks you can feel them against your skin. "i love you, too."

-

each night, seungcheol lays beside you, arms wrapped around you. he speaks into your hair about everything and anything—how he spent his nights while you were together, while you were apart. how his friends were doing. how your friends were doing. how your family was. the book he read recently.

you start with conversation until it dwindles down to nods and gentle sighs, and soon you can barely respond. seungcheol presses his lips together and wills himself to not cry.

you don't need tears. not now.

he kisses your hair, as he's done every night before you fall asleep. "i'll see you in the morning, my love," he says softly.

he knows he won't.

-

in another universe, he likes to think that your days aren't numbered. he likes to think that you'll find humor in the sunlight kissing your face and making your eyelids wrinkle so early in the morning. he likes to think you have more time to do as you please.

he likes to think of you at your happiest, with your bright smile and open heart. he likes to think that your biggest problems are found in the everyday minutia. he likes to think he'd be beside you, loving you through it all.

he likes to think that past few months were just a bad dream. in another universe, maybe it is.

but in this one, he'll choose to remember you at your happiest.

#svt fic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt angst #scoups angst #scoups x reader #scoups fic #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fic #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen au

[itslenagain]

Relearning

Once upon a time, I believed I knew what love was.

I played the part well. I learned the lines, I followed the script. I thought all I had to do was stay in character.

Right now, I am relearning.

You see, the problem with believing that all love is a performance is that when the performer takes their last bow, when the lights go off, when the props are in the trunk and the makeup is off and the crowd has gone home, the performer becomes themself again.

Yes, as a thespian, I believe performances can change you. But, undeniably, you're still your own person underneath. And if love is just a performance, does it mean anything when you're off the stage?

I'm discovering a love that exists when the marquee is empty, when the stage is dark. There's a love that is real when nobody is watching.

My love? Her smile is on my mind no matter what costume I put on. But honestly, around her, I don't want to wear one.

Loving her comes with me everywhere I go, it colors everything I see, it is the underscore of everything I do. I go off script because no play that's been written could sum it up.

Could any of the great playwrights have written the way your hands feel on my skin?

Or penned the night I took off my mismatched socks so you could wear them to help your aching feet?

Could any choreographer recreate the steps to the dancing we've done together in loud concert halls when all I could focus on was you next to me?

Could any director give the right notes to replicate how I hugged you tight enough to momentarily forget about the hospital walls surrounding us?

Sometimes I forget how to act when I'm not performing.

But for you? I'm passionately relearning.

#i just love her so much #lesbian #late in life lesbian #late bloomer #relationship #wlw love #sapphic #lovecore #writing #learning to love #lgbtqia+ #my girlfriend <3

[kunaigirl]

Hello! I just came across your epilepsy awareness/information post on my dash, and I wanted to ask you something about it if that's alright. You mentioned that having seizures as a kid made you forget alot of stuff and you had to relearn how to read as a 9-10 y/o. Can I ask about that? What was it like? Did things come back to you over time or was it a square one thing? Where you ever held back a grade? I'm not trying to be nosy, I'm just honestly very curious because I've never heard of something like that. I don't have epilepsy so I don't know (but I learned lots from your post and the links you included). I've asked one of my friends who does have it and he said stuff like that can happen but we don't know anyone who has irl. If it's not ok you can ignore this message. I don't want to make you upset, I'm just super curious about what it was like to experience.

Sorry I sat on this for a few days, I've been thinking of how to respond to it. First of all, thank you for asking so politely, that gesture alone means a lot. Anyways, it's ok to ask about it, I don't mind. It's a very alienating experience that had such a heavy impact on my core development, I've always felt really alone and even embarrassed by it. Maybe talking about it can help someone else feel less alone/traumatized. (Long read ahead)

I don't remember a lot of what lead up to when the memories vanished, but I know (from what my mom's told me that my doctors told her) that it was a fucked up reaction to the combination of the dose of medication I was on and the seizures I still kept having despite being on said does. This was back in 2001-2002. I started the process of re-learning from square one in 2003 as a home schooled 3rd grader. It didn't stick and I had to start all over again a few times, and I was still in the process of relearning from 2004-2005, which is when I was 9-10 years old. Also it wasn't just reading, it was writing too.

From what I've gathered, I had a bad enough case of epilepsy where the child meds weren't working, so they had me on a low dose of an adult medication instead, Starting at age 6. There was no way I was making it out of that without complications. I don't remember if I just woke up one day without any memory of how to read, or if it was a slower process of forgetting over a period of days. It's all way too blurry. The school district didn't want to deal with such a personalized learning program for just one kid, so I was home schooled.

What I DO remember was how much time I would spend crying. I KNEW that I learned how to read already, I KNEW I went to school with all the other kids and passed all the tests/etc. I recognized the covers of books I HAD read, and even remembered what was in them, but the words themselves were completely foreign. Gone.

It was like looking at a copy of a book you already read, but it's a different language. You know what's in it, but you don't know what words or symbols you're looking at. I knew this was the language I knew, the one I was speaking. It was ripped away from me, and I felt so stupid. Being told I wasn't going back to school because of it made me feel like a freak. You never feel like more of a freak than when you're 8 years old, struggling your ASS off to read "Cat in the Hat" It hurt in ways I wouldn't wish on anyone. The word "shame" doesn't even begin to cover it. It all felt so damn heavy.

People at the library or books stores would chime in and say "Oh! You don't want that BABY book do you? What about this one instead?" And I would take what they handed me, smile until they left, and then I'd put it down and run to go cry in the public bathroom. I couldn't read what they suggested. I was so furious with myself, it always happened. When we moved out of state in 2006 (6th grade) the schools were more willing to work with me privately, so I was back in public school once again.

From that point on, I was relearning with tutors and teachers in total secret. I hid all of these struggles from my middle school friends because I was horrified how they'd react if they knew about my struggles. Middle school was already fucked up enough. The books I'd carry around that I was "reading for fun" around them were always decoys. I had medical paperwork (IEP documents) that required ALL classes to give me extra time for tests and book reports by law.

Even though my hard work DID pay off and I (obviously) learned how to read and write again, I didn't feel "comfortable" reading until probably age 14. On top of ALL THAT I also developed dyslexia, and I also already had ADHD too. So, it's STILL a struggle sometimes. It's just something I have to live with. I still to this day read really slowly, like, it takes me months to finish one book slowly, but goddamn it, I'm still fucking reading.

I'm 28 years old now, it's been a long time since then. It was a part of my life I was forced by circumstances to experience, and it took a TON of extra hard work just to get to where I am now. I want to give myself some credit for that, and I will NEVER let myself feel ashamed of this struggle ever again. If anyone out there had any experience even remotely similar to this, I see you. I see how strong you are. Keep your head up, and keep reading.

#asks #anon #ok to reblog for awareness purposes but DO NOT CLOWN ON IT SO HELP ME #long post #long story

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

But Who's Keeping Score?

For good, and for bad, I don't have nearly as many unfinished pieces this year, but there are still a handful that I'd like to move off the burners, so here's a last-minute WIP before the year ends. As per usual, it's got placeholders all over and isn't in a finished state.

Just in case you're sensitive to the subject matter, it focuses pre-transition characters, who use their birth names up to a point. It's not coming from a place of malice, it's just because they don't identify as men at that point in the story.

(As a side note, I somehow ended up basing this in the same continuity as Keep Making that Face, but you don't need to be familiar with it to read this.)

---

Somebody had submitted Irma’s name to the annual Nimbasa [?] poll. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t upset about it-- it was just a silly popularity contest-- but if they were being realistic, it was all about appearances. Under different circumstances, Irma wasn’t the sort to wring her hands over how attractive others did or didn’t find her, but…

But throughout her entire adult life, over and over, she’d been told how much prettier she’d be if she smiled like Emma.

Irma tried. She really, truly did. If people paid enough attention, they could see the way her eyes narrowed when she was happy, and she did her best to make her voice dynamic and expressive to show others how she felt. It just… wasn’t enough. People always took her at face value, and one thing Irma physically could not do was smile like her sister.

It wasn’t the idea of people finding her unattractive that bothered her; it was the fact that she’d have irrefutable proof that people simply didn’t understand her, and didn’t care to try.

She tried to put it from her mind and focus on work but, inevitably, someone would make a comment about her expression and she’d be forced to confront the problem again. Emma had started taking it personally. It would have been a nice gesture, but it always ended in Irma having to swoop in and intervene before she could say something that would get her fired. She loved her sister, but the extra responsibility of dragging her away by the collar every time she heard the word ‘smile’ was the last thing she needed right now.

It made sense; Emma had felt responsible for the facial paralysis ever since diagnosis, no matter how emphatically Irma told her it wasn’t her fault. The guilt of it had lessened for awhile-- once Irma made enough progress with physical therapy to emote from the nose up, and Emma relearned to read her twin’s face-- but when they’d gone on to find employment with the United Unovan Railway, people started making pointed comments. Ironically, Emma never had possessed much of a poker face, and it was plain to see that it struck her every time she happened to hear.

Some days, Irma wished she could just be a man instead. No one would lament her “resting bitch face” then-- or, if they did, then maybe the “bitch” part wouldn’t sting so much. It was a fleeting-- if frequent-- thought that she passed off without any deeper consideration.

In the end, the voting period wasn’t actually so bad. She’d tried to tell herself that, even if she came in at dead last, it was still a lot to have been nominated at all… regardless of the fact that it did feel like a cruel prank, when she was being honest; she’d never know if it had been a legitimate submission or a mean spirited joke. Surprisingly, she landed just under the median. It was still a good two dozen spots behind her sister and entire light years from someone like Elesa, but she could live with that.

What hurt the most was the discussion in the aftermath. Irma didn’t go out seeking commentary on the poll, but having been an unwilling part of it, it found her-- people lamenting that she’d somehow placed ahead of them or saying that anyone who voted for her over their preference didn’t have any taste. There were some whose talk wasn’t even negative, just incredulous. Somehow, it didn’t feel any better to be told that someone had been surprised to see her rank so highly, but congratulations!

She took to wearing a face mask during work hours, sick to death, but only of the subject matter. If people couldn’t see her lips, they might mistake her for Emma and spare her the unsolicited interjections. Emma hated that she had to resort to such measures, but couldn’t offer any other solution-- save for ripping into anyone she caught making noise.

When Elesa had caught wind of the situation, she’d taken a different track. The reassurances that it was a stupid poll to begin with, and a mid-tier placement wasn’t bad at all weren’t anything Irma hadn’t already told herself, and as much as she’d tried to be grateful for the fact that her friend cared enough to encourage her, Irma only found it exhausting. It was over now, and she just wished they could move past it. She understood that they wanted to make her feel better, but why did they have to keep revisiting the topic?

Irma had forgotten that, while the general public had proven they couldn’t read her, Elesa certainly could, and she recognized that her input was only making things worse. Instead, she took to sending Irma messages throughout the week, showing her those comments that highlighted her enthusiasm and geniality-- and even several that framed her not as distant and aloof due to her frown, but intelligent and alluring.

It was kind of her, and her efforts did actually help. Irma didn’t really know what to make of being called “alluring”, but could… appreciate the compliment? She guessed?

The years after that weren’t so bad-- it was just the first time she’d been on the board that people had seen fit to approach her about it. Frankly, the only time thereafter that it had been of any interest at all was the year a particularly nasty strain of the flu ran rampant through the city; it became commonplace for people to wear face masks in public and, with only the upper half of her face to judge by, commuters were able to recognize when Irma smiled at them in her own way. Strangely, it even reflected in that year’s poll: instead of twenty places apart, Irma found that she landed just under Emma.

It still didn’t mean anything in the long run, but it was… nice to feel like people could begin to see her for what she was, rather than what she wasn’t.

The year after that, he’d come out to his sibling and they’d drawn up rough schematics for a train car that could withstand the wear and tear of battle. Both of them had been somewhat absent from the public eye as they brought the idea to both the head of the UUR and the Pokemon League, then subsequently been made to prove the concept. Surely polling happened that year, but both of the twins were too caught up in their project to pay it even the slightest bit of attention. It meant even less than usual that time, when they’d only be put in the wrong category.

Which brought them to this year.

The battle cars were perfectly functional and the system was promising. They’d debuted the mini-battle facility using different names from what people knew, and hosted only multi battles-- it set the subway apart from the gym challenge, and it also let them focus on their specialty, honing it to perfection. The somewhat dramatic coming out hadn’t had any bearing on that; it had just been convenient timing.

So far, the Battle Subway was a hit. They’d had coworkers express an interest in joining up, and had successfully proven the concept to the League; while it wasn’t guaranteed at this point, there was even talk of broadening the system to include more common battle styles.

With the prospect of expanding the services on the table, Ingo had been focused on how to make it work. There was a fair amount of interest in battling for a living, but so far, no other trainers who could serve as the final milestone for a line dedicated to single or double battles. While he and Emmet were certainly capable of filling those gaps, he needed to figure out how to make the timing work; using a win streak kept them from being swamped so far, so maybe it was just a matter of tweaking the existing system? How many wins could they reasonably expect a trainer to achieve? It was difficult to say. Not everyone was as… enthusiastic as he and his twin were, but if they’d boarded looking for a battle, then it wasn’t unfair to provide a certain amount of challenge…

He heard the lock turn, snapping him back to reality, and belatedly pulled a [blob] of accumulated fur from the comb he’d been moving on autopilot. It was the interruption of the pattern that caused Excadrill to look up, disturbed out of the doze it had fallen into.

On the other side of the front door, two muffled voices chattered back and forth, but went strangely quiet when they finally crossed into the apartment. Ingo sighed internally and braced himself for whatever trick would eventually be leveled at him.

#submas #ihaveatheoryonthat pkmn #writing scraps

[argisthebulwark]

I mean if we're just out here putting Brynjolf in all kinds of ~💖fun💖~ situations, any chance you'd be willing to write a follow up of this where he finally catches up to Mercer? Please? *Puppy eyes*

OOOOH time to write fucked up angry Brynjolf. thank you so much for this opportunity because he deserves some rage.

content warnings: explicit violence, depictions of grief/mental illness, blood/injury.

i listened to. a lot of old hawthorne heights while writing this if u want some vibes.

Karliah would never forget the first time she met Brynjolf. Mercer had questioned the kid's abilities but Gallus saw something in him no one else did. She could still picture Brynjolf's toothy smile when he showed up in the Ragged Flagon, eyes shining with hope every time he looked at Gallus. He was a young lad back then, still gangly and stuck in that awkward phase between childhood and adolescence but he was talented. He could sneak through the Cistern without making a noise and stayed up all night just to practice his lockpicking, determined to be the best.

That boy was gone.

When Karliah saw Brynjolf looming over Mercer the hope in his eyes was dead. There was a glint of malice when his dagger traced along Mercer's throat, tipping his chin up until he met Brynjolf's gaze. The young lad she'd known so well was gone, yet another loss at Mercer's hand. Brynjolf's smile was cruel and unfamiliar when he leaned toward Mercer.

"We need to move." Karliah reminded him as the water tickled at her ankles. Brynjolf grunted out a noncommittal reply and she saw how far gone he was, entirely lost in his need for vengeance.

"You're going to feel every bit of pain I feel." Brynjolf's voice was dangerous and Mercer had the audacity to sneer at him.

"You always were too soft, Brynjolf." His eyes rolled toward Karliah and she waited for whatever awful surprise he had next. "I told Gallus that but clearly he didn't listen and now look at the mess we're in."

"Don't say his fucking name."

"Oh come on, Karliah. Aren't you over this by now?" Every bit of her body burned with the rage she'd tamped down years ago as if it was fresh and new. She saw Brynjolf's hand quivering on the dagger and the tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You deserve the kill." Brynjolf spoke through gritted teeth, eyes never straying from Mercer. "You've been planning this for ages."

"Go on, Brynjolf." Karliah knew what he was feeling, that unending grief that was surely eating at him. She knew that hunger for violence was the only reason he'd been able to get out of bed and trek halfway across the continent. She'd been there before and relearned how to survive but Brynjolf's loss was too new.

"We all know you're not going to kill me." Karliah watched in horror as Brynjolf's eyes softened just a touch. Mercer was under his skin. She knew how badly Brynjolf wanted to believe the man who had taught him how to pickpocket and shoot a bow, the one that always gave him tough love when he felt Gallus was being too soft on him. Mercer had been the only constant in his life through all of the loss and abandonment and part of her worried that Brynjolf's resolve would break.

"Come now, Bryn." Mercer's hand carefully covered Brynjolf's where it was twisted into the front of his armor. The blade didn't lower but Brynjolf didn't strike, either. Karliah's breath stopped, readying her hand over the blade at her hip just in case. "This was all just a big mistake, right? You're not going to side with Karliah after she left you." She'd never heard Mercer's voice so soft. It was sickening. He was feeding on the trust he'd built with Brynjolf over the decades she'd been exiled. "She could have come back and told you at any point but she didn't, did she? She left you to me."

"Shut up." Brynjolf sobbed, the tip of his dagger drawing a pinprick of blood from Mercer's throat. She had to believe in him.

"Who took care of you all those years? When you cried every time you saw Gallus' handwriting who helped you move on?"

"I said shut up!"

"You're going to be a good lad and listen to me." Mercer's voice hardened. He had the upper hand. Karliah drew her blade and aimed it at Mercer but he didn't make a move, just stared right back at Brynjolf. "We're going to get rid of Karliah and go back to the Guild. We're going to explain what happened here and go back to how we were before your little recruit ruined everything."

Brynjolf's hand steadied, tears stopping at Mercer's words. Karliah's heart ached for Brynjolf when she saw the rage eating away at him but it was enough to get Mercer out of his mind.

"You killed her." Brynjolf breathed the words, ignoring the water rising to their knees. Mercer's body was half underwater but he didn't seem to care. "I was going to marry her and you took her from me."

"She got in my way. She had to go. Someday you'll-"

Mercer's words devolved into gurgles when Brynjolf's dagger punched through his armor. His blood stained the water as it rose around his body, eyes staring blindly up at Brynjolf while he sunk beneath the waves.

"It's over." Karliah sheathed her blade and patted Brynjolf's armored shoulder. He was silent as he followed her out of the chamber, paddling at her side until they reached solid ground. She wanted to remind him to change out of his wet armor but stopped when she saw the look on his face.

He was far, far away. Brynjolf stared into the distance as he deflated against the cave wall, dagger dropping at his side. She sat beside him and allowed herself to accept the knowledge he'd just had slammed into his mind. Their revenge was sated, there was no more anger to fuel them. The hardest part came next - moving on.

"What do I do?" Brynjolf whimpered and Karliah caught a glimpse of the boy she'd once known. She could still see the way he'd lean on Gallus after a verbal beatdown from Mercer and reached out, mimicking the way her love's hand would always pat him on the back.

"We'll figure it out together, Bryn." She promised, allowing the man she'd missed for so long to rest on her shoulder. He'd grown much taller but holding him felt like it healed the years she'd missed with him. "They wouldn't want us to die with them."

#brynjolf #skyrim #writing #asks #angst #karliah

[timespaceandfilm]

Reinventing the Wheel - Ch 15: Metamagic

Author: timespaceandfilm

Fic Rating: E - this fic gets NSFW in later chapters, 18+ only

Chapter Rating: E

Pairings: Sebastian x Female Farmer

Chapter Word Count: 7k

Chapter Warnings: Neck kisses, Masturbation

Chapter Summary: Sam, Seb, and Charlie play some tabletop RPG. Seb is still a tease. Charlie takes matters into her own hands.

Blurb:

Sam leaves soon after, grumbling about Jodi’s stupid curfew. I stay behind to help Seb clean up.

“You did really well by the way.” Seb looks at me, arms folded and a smile on his face.

I shrug, feeling the flush come to my cheeks. “I guess so. There's still a lot I don't know or need to relearn. It's been awhile.” I stand once I finish placing the minis in their respective slots and put the lid on the box. 

I gasp as Seb wraps me in a hug from behind, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't sell yourself short darling. You clearly know your stuff and you make smart moves.” I shiver as his voice shifts to sound more like his Xarth impression. “It's kind of hot.”

“Yoba, Seb!” I pant. How do we keep ending up here? I wiggle in his grip a little. “What is with you lately?”

“Whatever do you mean?” He asks coyly. His grip on me loosens a little, but his head stays where it's stationed next to mine.

“You know what I mean.” I turn around in his arms. Big mistake. Now I'm looking right into his eyes as they shine with mischief. “The teasing, the uh, physical stuff. You're acting like we're dating already.” I pout.

“Hmm. So you want me to stop?” Seb's voice keeps that deep tone to it. He moves both his hands to my shoulders.

“I-I dunno. I mean it just feels like maybe it might get confusing.”

“For who? Because honestly Charlie, if we were dating I wouldn't be doing this right now.”

“You wouldn't?” My voice becomes a whisper as I watch his pupils blow wide.

Seb shakes his head slowly, that pink tint slowly coming to his cheeks. “Charlie, if we had our shit figured out and I thought you'd let me? I'd have you up against a wall right now.” There's that almost growl I heard yesterday. Fangirl bot grabs a pitchfork and a torch, setting a searing heat alight below my belly. 

“Fuck.” I whisper. Seb's grip on my shoulders tighten. “Well if that were the case.” I look right up into his eyes. “I'd probably let you.”

I watch as he drifts closer, closer. His eyelashes flutter. I smirk and pull away. Seb lets out a frustrated groan as I begin packing my stuff to leave.

“Gods Charlie. Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?” He scratches the back of his neck as he watches me.

“Hmm. Good question.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Maybe because we like it?” I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows, doing my best to mimic that stupid Seb face he always does.

Seb chuckles and draws closer to hug me goodbye. “Hmm you might have a point.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and once again murmurs into my ear. “So if I keep doing this?”

My eyes flutter closed. The hand I have placed against his torso clenches around his T-shirt. Fangirl bot continues her riot in my abdomen and grabs for the mic before any other part of me can stop her.

“I'm not going to stop you.” I sigh, then shake my head to regain some control over the rampaging bot. “As long as it doesn't get out of hand,” I add on.

If I'm being honest with myself, I am enjoying the extra physical affection. Some of it maybe a little too much.

As if to prove my point, Seb mutters, “Of course,” and lands a peck right between my ear and the hinge of my jaw.

I slap my free hand over my mouth as an actual goddamn whimper tries to escape. It's all in vain apparently as Seb chuckles menacingly at my reaction. My face is on fire and so is the area between my legs.

“Okay!” I push his face away and he lets out a giggle. “That!” My index finger is right in his face. “That is boyfriend behavior!” I struggle to keep a straight face as he grins like an idiot. “Don't forget I'm your mom's favorite client asshole!”

“Alright, alright!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I'm sorry. Boundary noted. No neck kisses.”

Read the Full Chapter on AO3

#sdv sebastian #seb x farmer #stardew valley fanfic #stardew sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[mimisempai]

Don’t threaten me with a good time

Summary

After several days without seeing Mycroft because of a difficult case, Greg is happy to return home to Mycroft who did not expect to see him so soon. Then follows a tender reunion.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  3.0  #34 - "Don’t threaten me with a good time."

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On Ao3

Rating G - 566 words

Mycroft was tired of waking or falling asleep in a bed where the other half was almost always cold. Because of a perpetrator who kept slipping through their fingers, Greg had been coming home late and leaving early for several days. Which Mycroft fully understood, but it didn't stop him from wishing the situation would change soon.

He was wondering if he would see his lover tonight when his phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message from Greg.

Are you still awake?

G.

Received 10:30 pm

Yes, awake and  alone in bed, just waiting for you.

M.

Sent 10:31 pm

Don’t threaten me with a good time. 😏

G.

Received 10:33 pm

It will only be a good time if you get home before I fall asleep.

M.

Sent 22:34

Mycroft heard the door open and at the same time his phone vibrated.

It's a good thing I'm already here, then.

G.

Received 10:35 pm

By the time he placed his phone on the nightstand and turned his head, Greg was already at the bedroom door.

He looked exhausted, but his smile had lost none of its sparkle as he said softly, "I'm home."

Mycroft responded to his smile and simply lifted the blanket, saying, "Welcome home.

That was all Greg needed as he walked briskly over to the bed and Mycroft gladly accepted his weight on him as Greg threw himself into his arms.

He buried his face in Greg's neck and whispered, "I've missed you."

Greg moved back and planted a kiss on Mycroft's lips before replying, "I've missed you too. Sorry it took so long."

Mycroft shook his head, "Don't be sorry, you're not responsible for anything. The important thing is that you're here now."

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg and held him close. Then he whispered into his hair, "Did you catch him?"  

Greg nodded, his head against his lover's chest, "Yes. That's why I could come home now. Actually, it was Sally who made me leave, saying I'd kept you waiting long enough and if I didn't want to lose you, I'd better hurry."

Mycroft chuckled softly, "Lovely Sally, remind me to send her some flowers. But don't worry, you won't lose me because of your duty, my love."

Greg raised his head and Mycroft couldn't resist, leaning in for a kiss, this time lingering, their mouths relearning each other after those long days of abstinence.

When they pulled away to catch their breath, Greg licked his lips and said softly, "I've missed this too."

Mycroft hummed and captured Greg's lips again, preferring to show him how much he had missed it. When they broke the kiss, Greg rested his head on Mycroft's chest and they lay there for a moment, entwined in silence. Then Greg let out a contented sigh and said softly, "I know we talked about having a good time, but we'll have to put it off until tomorrow, I'm too exhausted to do anything."

Mycroft tightened his arms around Greg and replied into his hair, "I don't know about you, but for me this is already a good time. A really good time."

He pressed a light kiss to Greg's forehead and Greg snuggled a little closer to him before replying, "Yeah, you're right. It's perfect."

It didn't matter how, as long as they were together, it was a good time.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mycroft x greg #some fluff as always #sherlock bbc #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #mystrade monday #mystrade monday prompts

[toomuchracket]

mads does birthday party girlie speak french ? i've seen in a lot of them that she'll say like a sentence ! do u speak french ?

i think birthday party girly speaks a little bit of french, but not fluently! the little french hangovers in the middle of conversations (there's an "et toi" randomly in part 2 of tbp, for example) are a result of a fairly intense dark academia/classic lit phase you had as a teenager where you tried to incorporate french and latin phrases into conversations to seem wordly and wise lol. in hindsight, it was deeply, deeply pretentious of you, but some of the french responses stuck; matty found this story ridiculously funny and endearing when you first told him it not long after you two became friends, and you inevitably had the bret easton ellis/donna tartt besties convo right after it. matty also found it extremely endearing that you decided to relearn french before you went on the first paris trip with all your friends. he did take the piss out of you a little bit along with the rest of them - "darlin' we're going for a week there's no way you need to relearn the whole language" - but they were all forced to eat their words when a) they had to rely on you to do a solid 85% of the talking while you were away and b) you managed to get special treatment/people to be nicer to you all just because of your linguistic semi-proficiency and pleasant attitude. the day you and matty ended up hanging out together when everyone else went cycling, you remember turning back to him after ordering more wine and cracking jokes with the waitress en français to find him smiling at you in a way you hadn't seen before but immediately knew you wanted to see again (awed. moonstruck. lovingly); you were like "what?", and matty just shook his head slightly and went "you're incredible. that was so sophisticated. kinda hot, actually". and you both just giggled (to be fair, you were tipsy), but your relationship felt slightly different after that - closer, deeper, with a potential to be something more. and i'm also thinking that you speaking french ended up having some pavlovian effect on matty, where every time you'd pepper in a phrase he'd go all heart eyes - well, more so than normal - thinking about the two of you and your little wine drinking friend-date and how he so badly wanted to take you on a romantic one. and also thinking about how hot and smart you are lol. but yeah, you're not fluent-fluent, but you know enough french to both get by in france and make matty go all flustered, which is really all you need to know lmao!! also you're the inspo for the bfiafl album title. it's literally you lol <3

(and according to the scottish qualifications authority, i can speak french lol - i haven't spoken it for about six years, though, so i'm not as good as i was, but i can still read it quite well!)

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #into the birthday partyverse

[kylejsugarman]

tell me abt epileptic jesse in post el camino!!

Oh Man....Oh Lord. so id imagine that for a little bit, it doesn't even occur to him that his newfound freedom means that he can start managing his condition again. he's still relearning how to like. sleep in a bed and catching himself lifting his arms only up to his waist because he's used to his chains stopping him from going any further, so the notion that he can start doing something about his seizures again doesn't even cross his mind until he wakes up on the floor of his new cabin with a throbbing pain in the back of his hand and a racing heart because for a second it was the blue sky sliced up by the grate above him instead of the chestnut-colored crossbeams. todd started dropping whatever anticonvulsants he could get into the pit when the seizures began interfering with the cooks, but it wasn't super consistent and only barely kept a lid on his tonic-clonic seizures, which are now resurging without any meds and his stress about establishing a new life.

he reluctantly goes to a doctor just to get on meds again, stuttering through his new name and fumbling with his new licenses, convinced the receptionist is going to see him as a fraud. she just smiles at him and says "we haven't had a new patient in a while" but he still feels sick and panicked and exposed as he sits in the waiting room and goes back to the little examination room that doesn't have windows and is way too small. when the doctor comes in, he doesn't know how to get the words out because there's so much he wants to say, but he's so fucking afraid and he knows the doctor can see the scars on his face. finally, he just blurts "i need keppra. im sorry" and looks at the linoleum floor instead of at the doctor. she's quiet for a second, then asks if he's okay. he still can't look up, so he just shakes his head. "do you want to talk about it with me?" head shake. "would you like to talk about it with someone else?" pause, then a shrug. "okay. that's okay. there are some people in the area that are great. ill get you their contact info. you said you need keppra?" he nods, then a quiet "i have epilepsy. i can't remember what the real name is. its called JME." she says "juvenile myoclonic epilepsy. was keppra managing it well?" a nod. she asks him a few more questions, gentle and noninvasive, gives him the contact info of some local neurologists and psychologists and her own contact info so he can establish care at this practice if he wants, calls in a new prescription. finally, she says "whenever you're ready to talk, there's lot of people ready to listen" and he still doesn't have the right words, but he leaves feeling a little less feral.

on a lighter note, his girlfriend/future wife is a vet and when she learns that he's epileptic and doesn't have a medical ID on him (jack took his), she uses the nameplate stamping machine at her clinic to make him a new dog tag ID but forgets to switch out the vet office stamp that has the office's phone number and says "if lost, please return to" and doesn't realize until she's giving it to him. she's super embarrassed and is like "oh god im sorry, ill make you a new one" but he thinks it's funny and honestly?? it kind of feels nice to know that he has a place to go if he ever is lost again.

#lastsona #ask #LOVE how this is just super fucking long for no reason. like ok girl #epileptic jesse #thank uuuuuuu #syd squeaks

[theasexuwhalestuff]

Thoughts while watching Part III of the Kenobi Series

Looking at the title card for the umpteenth time and wondering why tf they couldn't just have gone with Kenobi. Most people already call it that instead of his full name. Lesser chance for confusion, and sounds way better. Similar ring to Andor.

Was looking forward to seeing Obi-Wan resume his panic/anxiety attack and completely lose his shit. But I guess him calling out to his master for the millionth time also works.

But seriously, Qui-Gon you bitch where are you when your son needs you answer him FFS.

I really have to commend Ewan for his portrayal of Obi-Wan during this stage of his life. I know he's mentioned that he's had to relearn Obi-Wan's accent, and I can hear hints of his Scottish accent coming through, but something else still sounded off. It took me a while to figure out the way his whole inflection and tone had changed. This was a conscious choice on Ewan's part, since the Obi-Wan he's playing now is very different to the one he's played before. He's portraying a broken, dejected man, and it's reflected in the way he speaks and interacts with the world around him. He doesn't help the Jedi who sought him out, and is unwilling to help Bail. His attitude towards Leia borders on indifferent and in this episode he even snaps at her, saying not everyone is good. I mean sure she can be annoying and something of a know-it-all, but I don't think I could ever have imagined Obi-Wan snapping at a child during the prequel era. Gone are his easygoing smile, the somewhat dramatic cadence of his voice, and the sarcastic remarks. Goes to show just how much research and care has been put into the state the character is in at this point in time. A person's experience is truly what shapes them, and here we're fortunate enough to get a glimpse of who this man could be in much different circumstances, and just how much he can bend before he breaks.

Mapuzo is a nice planet. I like the aesthetic.

Leia's actress, Vivien Lyra Blair was likely only 8 years old during filming, and it doesn't help that she easily looks like she could be 6 at the youngest. Adorable and very talented though. I've seen some of her other work.

Leia stepping up to the role of caretaker, because really, this man needs some serious help.

Damn, Order 66 rlly did a number on the great Negotiator, huh? Man can barely form words.

Why tf is this dumbass wandering around planet-to-planet in his old Jedi robes and the most Jedi-looking outfit in existence. Couldn't have picked out a different colour?? Different style and cut of clothes?? You're public enemy number one, man. Common sense be flying out the airlock.

That slip-up in front of the troopers gave me second-hand embarassment.

Ok, nice save. Negotiator back in his element, kinda.

Aw, Obi saying he wishes he could say he was Leia's father, and being soft to her 😭

Remembering his parents and his baby brother goddamnit.

But why tf are they talking so freely at the back of that space truck.

Ok, I love that unlike in the prequels, The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, the fight scenes here are a lot slower since Obi-Wan is woefully out of practice, but is still kicking ass cuz well, Stormtroopers.

Leia running to Obi-Wan exactly the same way Grogu ran to his papa after being snatched by those bandits in Season 2 😭😭😭

Leia looking distraught and hugging Lola, so Obi-Wan goes to comfort her 😭❤

Quinlan Vos lives??? Also, Obi-Wan's tiny smile at finding out his little shit of a friend is still alive.

Reva starting to piss me off ngl.

Vader suddenly appearing with his saber scared the shit outta me.

Man rlly just took out his lightsaber only to immediately bolt outta there lmao.

Ok but when did lightsabers get so thick.

Im sorry but why are you walking away from Vader?? RUN my dude.

Yeah, this is why I loved The Mandalorian so much. Sick of Jedi and Sith devilry, and watching the SAME two men trade lightsaber blows, fucking boring. There's more to Star Wars than the fucking Jedi. Pls no more Jedi in future Mando seasons, Favloni 🤲

No rlly, how is he gonna come back alive after this? He's barely hanging onto life.

Yeah man, he's right. Really shoulda skewered this asshole when he choked his pregnant wife nearly to death. A child-killer not to mention.

I can already hear the dudebros lamenting the quality of the last epic duel lmfao.

WTF ANAKIN, DON'T BARBECUE YOUR DAD-BROTHER.

Letting Leia go alone was a stupid ass decision, but Tala and NED-B to Obi-Wan's rescue!

Run, Leia, run.

#kenobi series #kenobi spoilers #obi-wan kenobi #leia organa #qui-gon jinn #quinlan vos #darth vader #reva #ewan mcgregor #vivien lyra blair