#could they not talk a little? for me? there are ways to do it within the bounds of their characters FOR SURE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hippolotamus · 2 days

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another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙

late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G

“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips.

Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share.

Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job.

Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend.

“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim.

“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala.

His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now.

“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom.

Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–”

“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”

“I can sleep on the cou-”

“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.

“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.”

Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date.

The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him.

He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it?

Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print.

“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.”

If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen.

Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance.

But I guess it’s your mess now.

Part 3 (Buck's POV)

#hippo writes #911 spoilers #i guess?#tw marisol #coda fic #911 7x06 #yes another one #eddie diaz #he's a sad boi #the cleopatra series #buddie ficlet #kinda #in a way #if you squint

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eyesxxyou · 2 days

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❝ sunshine pt.3 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. switch!hobie. switch!reader. missionary. save a horse ride a cowboy. using cum as lube. hobie being a tease. after your time in the bathroom, it's hard to deny your feelings for hobie. it's even harder to deny when hobie shows up on your doorstep.

Hobie Brown liked you.

He liked you from the very moment he met you. You were responsible, respectable, with enough sense in that brain of yours to last the both of you. You were quiet yet not shy and willing to speak your mind when need be. You were mean but in a nice way, in a way that really showed you cared more than you ever wanted to let on. He might have liked that most about you. Or it would be your lips that he liked the most. After all, he’s finally gotten a taste of them twice now.

You and Hobie met at a party through Riri. She had introduced you two and you had given him a once over and, looking rather unimpressed, dismissed him in the most polite way you possibly could. Hobie thought you to be prissy and stuck up and was ready to dismiss you as well as just that until he saw you glancing at him throughout the night, always within view of him. He knew you liked him right away, simply playing, or convincing yourself, that you didn’t. He thought it was cute.

You were avoiding him again. More so than before. According to your other shared friends, you weren’t even leaving your apartment. You didn’t want to risk any chance of running into Hobie on the street and being forced to confront your undeniable feelings right then and there.

But you had to talk about what happened eventually…right? You would have to talk to him eventually.

Would flowers be appropriate? Would they make you more upset? Imply something that was never there in the first place? Or would they soothe the undoubted rage you would feel upon seeing Hobie at your door when all you wanted was to be left alone with your thoughts. You didn't need him coming in and stirring shit up but Hobie wouldn't be himself if he didn't stir the pot just a little.

Hobie decided no flowers, not yet, you weren't ready for something like that. It would send you into a spiral, turn you off to any idea of simply talking to him.

He stood at your door for approximately 10 minutes, simply debating if disturbing you would be worth it. Hobie had the chance to make things a whole lot worse but also the chance to remedy your pain and confusion. He would be remiss if he didn’t at least try to make things better between the two of you. So he knocked, nervous for one of the few times in his life.

It was clear you didn't expect him to be at your doorstep when you opened the door. Your bored gaze widened into something of surprise, or maybe that’s fear he was seeing. You didn't hesitate to try and close the door on him but Hobie stuck his boot between the door and the frame to stop you. “Wai’, wai’, sunshine please, hol’ on.” He pleaded softly, sticking his hand through the crack to pry the door open but you had a surprising amount of strength.

“Could you stop fucking calling me that? It’s stupid and annoying.” Your words hold a bitter taste to them. Your lips are pressed into a firm scowl as you look at him. Your hands balled into fist pinned to your sides. “Why are you here, Hobie? I’m not feeling well” You let out a feeble cough to punctuate your point. It’s unconvincing even to you.

Hobie leaned against your doorframe and looked at you with those heavy-set eyes you found yourself thinking about far too often. “Ya haven’ been answerin’ ma calls.” His voice was soft compared to yours. It makes you feel a bit ridiculous for being so angry. But your anger was righteous; you had every justifiable reason to be upset.

“When do I ever answer your calls?”

“Touché.” Hobie tried to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, shifting his gaze to the side. But — God — if only you knew how anxious he was to speak to you. His mouth ran dry and his palms, usually cool, where now hot and clammy. “But we still need t’ chat. Don' wan’cha goin’ ‘round thinkin’ I was just tryna get off or somethin’.”

You’re colder than usual to him, scoffing at his every word. Hobie was starting to think you might actually hate him. But if he’s right, and he nearly always is, you like him far more than you want to let on, you always have. This was all denial, a front, a way to protect your fragile world view and delicate self-image.

You turn yourself away from him, eyes shifting, head low. You don’t want to talk. Is it so hard to just be left alone?

Hobie could see you were shutting down. “Look– I’m no’ ‘ere to tell ya who ya are and who ya aren'. ‘M jus’ here fo’ support.” He was gentle, his lips twitched into a half-hearted smile, trying to be friendly and cordial. As much as someone like him can be.

Maybe it’s then that you realized the fact that he was just trying to offer you some kindness at a point in your life where you might have needed it most. You were so unsure of yourself, who you were, what you did. You always knew Hobie wasn’t a bad person, but you never knew he could be so tender.

You pursed your lips and sighed with defeat before opening the door a little more to let him through. His boots made your floorboards creak under the weight of them as he walked into your flat, his hand shoved into the pockets of his spiked and studded leather jacket. He was too comfortable, too cool for your liking. Or maybe you were too tense for his.

You closed the door behind him and crossed your arms over your chest as if to protect yourself. Your body language screamed defensive, closed, unwilling to listen. Your eyes shifted from side to side but never linger on Hobie for long. Back against the door, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, heel to toe. “I don’t know what you think is going on between us, what you think we share, but I’m not interested. It shouldn’t have happened.” You spat out, more at yourself than at him. “It was a mistake.”

Hobie grunted. “Way t’make a guy feel good ‘bout ‘imself.” He wasn’t hurt about it. You were going through a lot right now. And your words said more than you ever cared to say.

“I’m not gay, Hobie.” You say a little forcefully, watching with a sort of meticulousness as Hobie wandered his way closer to you. You watched him shrug as if it didn’t matter. “So wha’? I wouldn’ call myself gay either, I jus’ like who I like.” He slid his hands from his pockets, his approach still slow and steady. You didn’t dare look away from him or make a motion in any other direction.

“‘M no askin’ you t’be gay, sunshine.”

You swallowed as Hobie reached out and placed his large hand on your hip and closed the space between your bodies. This was the very reason why you didn’t want to be around him, because you knew that if he made a motion for you, you wouldn’t have the strength to pull away.

You wanted him. You wanted him carnally, wanted him the way one being always longs for another. You wanted his hands, his lips, his cock. You wanted all of him and more. Just one more time, one more time and you’d expel him from your mind and you’d be done with it all together.

You looked at him, desperation filling your glossy eyes like tears. “Then what do you want from me, Hobie? I don’t understand.” You don’t understand yourself anymore. You don’t know yourself. All you know is that you're wildly and completely, head over heels, desperately fiending to have him again and you didn't know what that meant about yourself.

Hobie stroked your hip tenderly with his thumb. “I jus’ wan’cha t’like me back. Is tha’ so hard?”

You turned your head away, lips pursed to stop them from trembling. You were utterly terrified. Terrified because you do like him back. You like him more than you ever wanted to let on. Everything you despise about him, his saunter, his carelessness, his full laughter, his smile, is truly everything you adored about him and he had seen right through you the entire time.

“I do like you.” It feels so good to get off your chest, to finally say it out loud. You look at Hobie, eyes hard yet glassy. Your lips are pressed firmly.

Hobie didn't understand. “Then wha’s the problem?” If he liked you and you liked him, why were you so against being with him? It wasn't like you’d lose your friends, they were totally accepting of queerness if not queer themselves. And so what if anyone else judged you? You never cared about anyone’s opinion before.

“I thought you were the most annoying person in the world just a few weeks ago. I still do. So what if we like each other? That doesn't mean we’re meant to be together. I’ve known myself well all my life. I’ve known what I wanted, who I wanted, where I wanted to be-”

“This is ‘bout’cha feelin’ like ya don' know yerself anymore?” Hobie scoffed. “Things change, sunshine. Life happens. Grow up.” It was harsh, but you needed to hear it. You liked men, Hobie specifically, men generally. Who cares? Not him, not your friends, not the people that matter in your life. “If I like you and you like me, wouldn' i’ make the most sense for us to at least try to make sometin’ outta this?”

You were silent. Utterly and terribly silent. You didn't know what else to say. You felt ridiculous for holding on to this idea of yourself that you’d never live up to. You couldn’t believe you were admitting this but Hobie was making sense. Who cares if you like men, like him. Sure, it might come as a shock to everyone but in the end, what does it truly matter?

You look at Hobie with big eyes and your hands reached out to pull him a little closer. Who cares, you told yourself. The guilt still ate away at you but with time, you knew it would go away.

Hobie deemed it safe to kiss you. He was cautious, easing his lips onto yours, tender and innocent until it wasn’t. It was all the sum of their parts. Lips, teeth, tongue, passion, drowning desire. You reciprocated with the same timid carefulness of someone unsure of how to be gentle, how to be intimate without being aggressive.

Hobie’s fingers curled into the fabric of your shorts, pulling you closer until your body was flush with his. Your arms fell over his shoulders, fingers mindlessly scratching at the nape of his neck while your teeth nip softly at his lip piercing. He pressed you to the wall much like you had done to him that night in the bathroom and pressed his body closer to yours. You didn’t mind that all his spikes in studs were digging into your flesh. You welcomed his sharp abrasiveness.

You guided Hobie to the couch, where the two of you fell into a tangle of limbs and caressing touches. Hobie was on top of you, his large hands still on your hips but slowly beginning to roam about your body while the two of you kissed.

Fuck, he was hard already but so were you so it made the matter all the less embarrassing. Your arousal only made him harder, more desperate for you. Hobie’s hands grasped at your hips and waist in an act of worship, before sliding between your legs to palm at your aching cock pressing against the front of your underwear.

“Hobie~” you whined softly, moaning onto the fullness of his lips before your tongue sought out his once more. “Fuck, fuck, just like that.” You should be embarrassed by how desperate you are, you both should. Your hands ferally tug at each other's clothing, just enough to get your cocks out and rutting against each other. His was bigger than yours, thicker, with veins running along the sides. He was uncut and pretty. And the direct comparison of your sizes made your cock twitch and leak onto your stomach. His precum dripped down and mingled with yours.

Hobie was not shy about rutting his hips and rubbing his length against yours. Your hands continued to pull off clothing after clothing. His vest, your shirt, his pants then yours. Until you both were totally nude, minus the spiked collar Hobie still wore.

“I don’t– I don’t know what to do.” You said between bated breaths and eager kisses. Hobie pressed his hips down against yours and you whimpered just slightly. You felt his smooth yet scarred skin under your palms and felt at ease. You looked at him almost pathetically and felt your face grow hot as Hobie rolled his hips into yours and chuckled at you. The leaky tip of his cock rubbed the underside of your mushroom head and you shivered.

Hobie’s lovely lips kissed your cheek and began to hover over your jaw and down your neck. “I’ll show ya, sunshine. We’ll take turns, yeah?” He suddenly became as sweet as sugar, so sweet you could taste it on your tongue when he kissed you again. “I’ll show ya how t’do i’, then you can do i’ t’me.”

He was so gentle when he touched you, but you writhed and squirmed with every trace of his fingers along your body. “Do ya have lube?” He murmured against your flesh as he kissed a small sweet spot at the base of your neck. You nodded, a bit slowly. “I think… It’s somewhere in my room. I never needed to — fuck — use it before.” For the life of you, you couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Your brain was too fuzzy, Hobie was starting to move his hips faster and the way his cockhead rubbed yours was starting to make you delirious. “I can’t remember,” you murmur hazily. “I can’t remember, I can’t remember. God, please don’t stop.”

“Yer actin’ like this ‘n ‘m not even fuckin’ ya yet.” Hobie chuckled lowly into your ear. It tickled and you weren’t sure if that’s what made you shiver or the way he wrapped his lithe fingers around your cocks and squeezed just enough to apply a perfectly delicious amount of pressure.

You couldn’t help but to roll your hips into his hand while Hobie thrusted his forward. He watched the way you huffed and whimpered, almost whining. You squeezed your eyes shut and simply let yourself feel his length against yours. His tip rubbed yours, precum leaking onto your slit. It was just enough to make you come undone.

You didn’t even know you came until you felt it pool all over your tummy. Your eyes opened, bleary and out of focus as your cock twitched. You reached down, looking up at Hobie who was pushing his hips in shallow thrusts. He was close, you could tell just by the way he moaned, deep and pretty like he was singing just for you.

You reached down and dragged your thumb over his dark tip, pressing against his slit and rubbing in short, tender strokes. Hobie’s hips shuddered and his lips parted just enough to let out something of a guttural groan. “Fuck– ‘m close, sunshine. Yer doin’ so good.”

Hobie came soon after you, with a few more short rubs of his tip, he spilled out all over your hand and tummy, his cum pooling in with yours into a large, milky puddle. It was warm, a bit more viscous than yours, came out in globs that landed on your abdomen.

Hobie leaned in and kissed you once again. You melted into him, your hands cupping his face to pull him closer. “Please fuck me, Hobie.” You plead with him, panting into his mouth with a desperation you’ve never before known. You parted your legs wider, exposing yourself to him, offering yourself to him. You looked so handsome like that, legs spread and cum on your belly. “Use our cum if you have to. Please, I need it.”

He was taken aback by your eagerness to be fucked. “This’ll be ya first time bottoming, yeah?” You nod sheepishly. Hobie smiles that smile you’d usually scoff at but now, all you could do is marvel at it. You swooned at it, your lips pulling into the smallest smile of its own. “Will you let me fuck you after?” You ask in the smallest voice as if you were almost embarrassed by your request. But you couldn’t help it. “Please, I really wanna fuck you.”

“Awww ya wanna fuck me, sunshine?” Hobie crooned at you. He laughed robustly as you slapped his shoulder and turned your face away. “You can always leave, dickhead.” He kissed at your neck and chest, nipping slightly at your skin. “You don’ wan’ me t’do tha’.” Hobie continued to kiss at your neck while dragging his fingers through the puddle of cum on your tummy.

Your lips parted and a small gasp left you as the pad of his fingers circled over the tight rim of your puckered hole.

“Ya wanna prep first, jus’ tease i’ open.” Hobie pressed a singer against your hole, listening to your soft whines as his finger eased into you. The intrusion felt odd, but not bad. He whispered for you to relax. “‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha.” He gathered more cum and made sure his path was nice and slick. “‘M gonna add another finger.”

“Just do it— please.”

Hobie wasted no time sliding another slickened finger into your taut hole, his eyes watching the way you bite your lip and stifle a whimper. His fingers didn’t search for your prostate, his cock would do that work for him. He was just focused on opening you up and ensuring that you’d be ready to take him. Your hands gripped his shoulders. Your face twisted, not exactly with discomfort. It was a feeling you could get used to with time.

Hobie and that dimpled smile that grove you mad. You almost wanted to say something but every time you opened your mouth, you simply cried out. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” You were desperate, every desire you’ve ever had spilling out of your mouth, every fantasy you’ve had about him since that night in your closet. You wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him, you wanted you bodies to melt into one another.

And when Hobie pulled his fingers from your wanton hole and gathered more cum to spread down his length, you prepared yourself for an unbearable pain. You’ve seen porn like this but no one has ever been nearly as big as him.

He placed his tip against your wet hole, looked at your face for any sign of pain, and slowly eased himself in.

Your mouth fell open and your back arched as you whimpered. You could feel him splitting you open, parting your tight walls to make space for him. Your walls were molded to his cock. Hobie groaned above you, hands gripping at your hips and thighs to ground himself. “Ya feel so good, sunshine. Bloody hell. Stay still f’me.”

But you couldn't, you wiggled and writhed with something of discomfort and pleasure. His intrusion was not exactly welcome but certainly not discouraged. The sounds that left you were ones you’ve never heard before. They were new and unknown, whiny and loud as Hobie pressed against something soft and sensitive inside you. Suddenly discomfort was welcome and you needed more.

He pressed his hips flush to yours, rolling his hips and offering shallow thrusts that made him poke and prod at that spot that made your toes curl. You tossed your head back, eyes rolling back into your head, fingernails sinking into his flesh. “Hobie, Hobie, Hobie.” You whimpered as he buckled down and pulled out only to fuck himself back into you.

Hobie was desperate, ravenous, trying so hard not to hurt you while also satisfying his need to have you. He loved the way you sang for him, your whiny moans growing higher with each thrust into your hole. You trembled and you sang and you opened your legs wider to feel him deeper if such a thing was really possible. You could feel him in your throat, choking.

Your orgasm came so quick you hardly had the chance to say anything before you were squealing, your cock leaking more cum onto your tummy with a few hard twitches. Your mind was so hazy, but you had enough sense to hide your face in the bend of your elbow to hide from the embarrassment of coming so swiftly.

You expected Hobie to laugh at you, tease you for it. But he gently took your arm from you face and leaned down to pepper kisses across your heated face. “I’s okay, sunshine. I’s ya first time. Only right you’d be sensitive.” His fingers traced up and down your side as he placed his lips on yours and kissed you with a tenderness you still couldn’t believe he was capable of.

“Y’want me t’keep goin’ or do y’want yer turn?”

He made you feel safe and comfortable. As comfortable you could be having sex with another man.

“Can you ride me? I wanna look at you.”

Hobie chuckled, slowly pulling out of you with a pop that made you shiver. “So obsessed with me.” Your lips tugged into a lighthearted scowl that soon faded as Hobie scooped up your cum from your abdomen and reached back to prep himself, slowly sinking a finger into his ass, soon followed by another.

You watched, dazed and amazed, admiring the contours of his face as he let out a breathy little moan. Hobie smirked at you, “like what’cha see?” You didn’t have enough sass left in you to pretend that you didn’t. You just wanted him, to feel him, to make him cum like he made you cum. You wanted his pleasure, wanted him.

You sat up into a sitting position and watched as Hobie came and straddled your lap. Your hands found purchase on his boney hips and he looked into your eyes as he stroked your cock with his cum-covered hand. “Le’s see how fast I can get’cha t’cum this time.”

“You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“No’ rubbin’ i’ ya face, sunshine. I jus’ think i’s cute.” Hobie leaned down and kissed you again, just a peck that left you wanting more. He settled down and positioned your cock against his hole before slowly and carefully sinking down onto you.

It felt different than being with a woman, tighter, warmer, less wet. A moan ripped from your throat, your mouth falling open to gasp and shudder. Your hands stroked Hobie’s sides to soothe yourself. “Fuck– Hobie~ God, you feel so good.” You were gasping for air, breathless. Your cock was still sensitive. You’d cum in no time.

Hobie grinned, settling into your lap, rolling his slender hips into yours. He rode you slowly at first, drawing out noises no other person has ever made you vocalize before. He cooed at you, his lips on yours, his tongue in your open mouth. Then he rode you hard and fast, with the skill of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

You were borderline pathetic. Rendered down to nothing more but a gasping, whimpering, drooling mess. You should have more self-respect, but Hobie was taking any semblance of it from you. His hole squeezed you tight, a vice grip that left your eyes rolling. “Ngh, mmh~” You were writhing beneath him, hands gripping, nails sinking into flesh.

You held Hobie close. His chest to yours, his cock slapping against your wet abdomen, his fingers laced into your hair. There was something so terribly intimate about it, how close you two were. The desperation on both parts was thick in the air, hot with the smell of sweat and sex. When Hobie stopped kissing you, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You two looked at each other and you felt as though your face had been shoved into lava.

Hobie grinded his hips down and his head lulled back. You had touched his soft spot and he let out a pretty, baritone moan. He squeezed you tight and stroked your cock softly and just as Hobie had suspected, you came, without warning. You had meant to cum on the outside, your hands attempting to push Hobie off of you when your cock began to twitch, but he seemed intent on staying.

You came inside, nice and deep, your hips shuddering. Hobie groaned, low and loud, and came onto you stomach and chest.

You both were left panting, tired and suddenly sore. Hobie looked at you, waiting for that moment where it all switches and you realize that you’ve made another mistake– where you suddenly become cold again. You looked up at him, eyes unsure but softly pleading for reassurance. “Please tell me this wasn’t a mistake.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Hobie got up off of you and sat on his heels beside you. His hands traced imaginary shapes into your cum-covered chest before leaning in to litter pecks across your face. “I’ wasn’ a mistake, sunshine. Nothin’ we did was a mistake.” His lips finally found yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. His lips soothed you.

“Le’s see where this takes us. We don’ have t’put a label on i’ righ’ now.”

You looked rather sheepish, turning your head away from him. “What if I want to put a label on it?” If you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right. You wanted Hobie to belong to you and you to belong to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you still annoy the hell out of me and sometimes I want to knock you over the head with a frying pan, but I want us to be something.”

There was that smile, that gorgeous, charming, irritating smile. It was so cocky, so arrogant, so Hobie. You adored it.

“Then le’s be something’.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #atsv hobie smut #spiderpunk smut #spiderpunk x male reader #sunshine

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jinnify · 20 hours

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irreplaceable pt. 2 — park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x idol!reader and a little bit of jay x reader genre: idk tbh LOL warnings: none word count: one thousand four hundred fourteen now playing: killing me by ikon extended note at the bottom. part one.

It had been a little over a month since you had broken up with Sunghoon when he received news of you being in a dating scandal with one of your seniors. If he were honest, he’d say he hadn’t ever expected you to move on from him that quickly, but maybe it had just been him overestimating how much he mattered to you - instead, he sent you a congratulations message that you never even opened.

Sunghoon, of course, had immediately started talking to his crush as soon as you’d broken up with him, trying to distract from the strange string of emotions you had stirred up within him that night. It was never more than a couple of dates before he lost interest in her.

Sooner or later, Sunghoon deleted your number from his phone, seeing how you had been caught with your presumed boyfriend more than once. It had been a mystery as to who you were dating as celebrity media outlets had only released your name, but Sunghoon felt bothered by it nonetheless.

Months passed with no news about you, which led him to quietly pass the time without thinking about you until end-of-the-year practices started ramping up for the entire industry. Suddenly, Jay would arrive at practices with a warm meal in hand, much too familiar with the way you once did for him.

He tried to push away the many thoughts of one of his members and best friends dating his ex-girlfriend until he noticed a notification with your name on his lock screen.

Sunghoon swore he died a little inside. How could his friend do this to him? To not even speak to him before trying to pursue you. Sunghoon was heartbroken for more than one reason that day.

It took everything in him not to drag Jay out into the middle of the room and confront him for what he was doing behind his back. Instead, he went home without a glance back at the room filled with people. Sunghoon calmed himself down after an hour of pacing back and forth throughout his dorm room. He hadn’t been rationally thinking.

Would Jay really do this to him?

The breakup had taken a toll on you. You hadn’t been able to eat or sleep well, which led to a lack of energy when you had practices that resulted in poor performance on music shows. You were more than aware of how dramatically you were reacting to this ordeal given that Sunghoon hadn’t even liked you, but that didn’t stop your heart from breaking every time a random memory of him doing something nice for you popped up in your head.

You tried to convince yourself that you hadn’t ever felt anything for Sunghoon yourself - that your infatuation had come from how handsome he was and you would get over this little slump in no time.

You flopped around in bed, leaning over to look at your member’s alarm clock. 4:00 AM shown in red letters blinked back at you, taunting you with its horrendously bright lights.

This had been the third night in a row that you had been unable to sleep.

You felt your phone vibrate from under your pillow, alerting you of a text message. It took you a second to completely register who had sent you a message before you replied. Jay had asked if you were awake, wondering if you wanted to meet by a local convenience store. It only took you 10 minutes before you snuck out of your dorm, and were on your way to meet up with him.

You had never expected the level of true amity that would bloom between the both of you, but you were grateful to have had Jay there for you through one of the worst times in your life yet.

Neither you nor Jay was aware of the stirrup it would cause the next day when it had leaked that the two of you had met up late at night and after a stern interrogation from both of your managers, the situation had been cleared up without a problem.

The nightly outings with Jay continued whenever you couldn’t catch a full night’s rest, too preoccupied with your thoughts to give out. More and more of your fans had begun to speculate online, but your shared company never commented.

You had only recently started making Jay meals and dropping them off once you had started feeling better to repay him for all the money he had spent on your ice cream. Little thank-you notes littered the tops of the lids, cheering him on as you were both about to get very busy.

It wasn’t until Jay asked you to stop that you realized there was a problem with what you had been doing. Of course, Jay had kept the reason for his hesitation to himself but it didn’t take a genius to understand what was going on.

In a fit of anger, you messaged Sunghoon’s number, still having his contact saved in your phone. It was a wordy message, filled with obscenities you wouldn’t have ever repeated to his face, but you were rightly upset that Sunghoon had the gall to be angry at his friend for comforting you as any normal person would have.

Who did he think he was to dictate his friend's actions?

If Sunghoon were honest with himself, he’d admit that he knew Jay dating you shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. He hadn’t even actually dated you - his friend was more than validated in his right to pursue you.

He didn’t completely understand what bothered him more, the fact that it was Jay who was dating you or that you had moved on. He knew he should be happy for you, especially since he knew how hurt you had been when you broke up, but he couldn’t find it in himself.

He often caught himself daydreaming now, imagining how it must be for you and Jay on your dates. The glimmer in your eyes that had once been only for him to see was now shining for someone else. There was a sickly feeling in Sunghoon’s stomach, one he knew he shouldn’t be feeling.

After a while, he started avoiding Jay as much as he could. Sunghoon hadn’t expected the misery that would accompany him after your breakup. There had been an intense guilt that had started eating Sunghoon from the inside out. Couldn’t he just be happy for his friend?

Awards shows came quicker than he would have wanted. Sunghoon had managed to suppress his feelings long enough to get through practices, but he had no idea how well he’d hold up if he came across you with Jay. On top of that, you were upset with him over his reaction to your relationship.

It was only the beginning of award season, but Sunghoon had already seen too much. The smiles shared between you and Jay did not go unnoticed, and he hated it.

He hated just how much he wished your smiles were directed at him.

Sunghoon’s intense stares didn’t go unnoticed by you either. They were difficult to miss when you could feel his eyes burning into you whenever you stood to applaud his group. It was an intense feeling to know that you were being watched with such disdain, but there wasn’t much you could do. Jay tried to comfort you as much as he could through text messages whenever he was in his green room.

After one particular performance by your group, you ran into Jay and his members, excitedly congratulating them all with hugs as Sunghoon distanced himself as much as he could. Again, you felt his stern stare, hesitantly turning to him you gave him a thumbs up and a smile.

You figured keeping things civil wouldn’t hurt, despite being annoyed with how he was acting lately. Unsurprisingly, Sunghoon didn’t return the small gesture instead he looked away from you almost entirely.

Yes, you hadn’t expected much from him but it still hurt. You didn’t understand where this hostility came from. The last time you had physically seen Sunghoon he looked like he was on the verge of tears, yet now he stood looking miserable at the thought of your presence.

The thought hadn’t even been processed in your mind before you were walking toward him, escaping your member's hold on your hand.

“Sunghoon, can I speak with you?”

EXTENDED NOTE. ok she's not done but I really really struggled with her so I just cut it off here 😔 I promise the next part will be nicer and probably fluffy <3 also jiji I thought I was gonna post this yesterday but I didn't ansorrriiiiii

#enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen oneshot #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fic #sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon angst #📁 enhypen: sunghoon

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jordosprout · 2 days

Note

Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.

Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.

I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3

Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.

Sprouting Within the Soul

Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)

Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.

Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.

Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use

WC: 3,955

Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!

You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.

She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.

Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.

Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.

Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.

With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.

You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.

You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.

It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.

Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.

Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.

You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Balaans. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.

But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!

“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!”

You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.

“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.

“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.

You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”

“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”

Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”

Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”

“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?

Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.

“Maybe it'll be fun.”

“Heh, works for me.”

“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.

You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.

Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.

It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?

As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people.

‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’

“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.

“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”

You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.

But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable.

‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’

The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.

You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.

“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.

“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.

One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls.

“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.

‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’

“It appears anything goes out there.”

The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.

You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did.

‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’

“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.

“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.”

“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”

Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.

Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech.

You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.

Which wasn't much apparently.

A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters.

“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”

‘Why’s that matter to him?’

He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”

Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him.

“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”

After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.

You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line.

You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.

But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.

So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up.

And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.

“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.”

And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?”

“More than you got, kid.”

“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”

“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”

“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.”

“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.”

You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.

“If we win, we get Cid.”

“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”

You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”

“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.

“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly

“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.

“So we have a deal?”

“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”

As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”

You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”

After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place.

“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.

“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”

TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.

Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.

“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”

You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.

Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep.

You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you.

“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”

“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”

You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.

“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.

“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”

He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.

“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”

“Hopefully not”

You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.

Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.

It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.

After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.

You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.

Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.

“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.

“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”

“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.

“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”

Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.

Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.

“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.

“Problem?”

You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.

He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.

‘Oh’

He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you.

“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.

You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to.

He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.

“Did you win?”

He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.

“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.

“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment.

You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.

“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”

You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”

He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.

“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”

Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”

“You do?”

“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”

You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”

He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”

You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.

You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.

“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.

#tbb tech #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb wrecker #omega bad batch #tbb comfort #tech fluff #tech x reader #tech tbb #tech comfort #this took too long and i am moderately embarrassed #why is embarrassed spelled like that #oh god its 6:23 am i need to sleep #happy reading!!!!!!!!!!!!#autistic tech #autistic reader

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mariasont · 2 days

Note

Hello! I saw you were taking some requests? I had an idea for a Spencer fic. The reader (afab) who is gender fluid but doesn’t like their chest area (as they are quite big) on certain days due to how they are feeling that day. Spencer helps them feel a little better by just helping them out with a fitting outfit from his clothes mixed with theirs too.

This can be purely fluff and just all sweet. But you can add anything else if it helps you pad out the story more.

Thank you!

Sweater - S.R

a/n: hi hi hi thank u so much for requesting sorry it took so long i wanted to make sure i did my research and remained sensitive to this subject <3

i hope you like it !!!

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x gender-fluid!afab!reader

summary: in which you struggle with your body and spencer helps you

warnings: a lil angst, fluff, body dysmorphia

wc: 0.8k

You absently scuffed the toe of your sock along the grain of polished floor, your head drifting to one side while your fingers fussed with your fingernail. Your eyes avoided the mirror in front of you, knowing you wouldn't necessarily like what you saw back.

Your fingers lingered along the hem of your shirt, a subconscious motion that sought to smooth more than just the wrinkles. The shirt, a second skin, hugged a little too closely, its lines a little too revealing. You pulled at the fabric, willing it to fall just right, to drape, to hide.

A crease of frustration marred your face as you turned to the side, the reflection in the mirror stubbornly refused to align with the image in your head. The chest that some days felt like a part of you, today, felt like a stranger--too pronounced, too noticeable, too... there.

The bedroom door groaned softly on its hinges as Spencer appeared in the doorway. His eyes connected with yours in the mirror as he observed the strain etched in your shoulders, and the sudden pause in your hands' restless motion.

"Hey," he said, his voice was comforting, a welcome intrusion to the relentless tangled web that was your thoughts. "I'm making eggs. Do you want some?"

It was a simple offer, but that didn't matter. Just him being there made everything seem a little softer around the edges.

"Yes, please," you replied, feeling the tight coil of anxiety within you loosen ever so slightly.

Spencer's gaze lingered with a softness that betrayed its probing nature, as if he could strip away everything you were hiding, something he was able to do all too often. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

The question hung in the air, it was a rhetorical question really, but you felt the warmth that spread through you as you toyed with the hem of his shirt.

"As much as the neurons in our brains fire every second," you said, a fact Spencer had instilled into you like no other—he didn’t go a day without saying it.

"That's right," Spencer affirmed with a chuckle as he closed the distance between you.

His hands came up to cup your face, sweeping gentle strokes over your cheeks before planting a soft kiss against your forehead.

Spencer's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he was giving you the space to decide while he spoke into your skin. "Do you want to talk to me?"

You let out a small sigh, not of frustration, but of surrender as you leaned into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart—bump, bump—it was almost enough to lull you to sleep standing up in his arms.

"It's just one of those days."

He knew what you meant, of course he did. His arms wrapped around you.

"Did you know," he began, his voice steady and sure, "that the way we see ourselves can be influenced by so many factors, like mood, environment, and even the lighting of the room? It's important to me that you remember that our self-image isn't always an accurate reflection of reality."

You leaned further into his chest, eyes squeezing shut.

He paused, giving you a moment to absorb the words before pinching your sides. "Why don't you try on some of my clothes?"

"Yeah, okay," you agreed, you’d never say no to that offer.

Spencer's eyes crinkled with amusement as he moved towards the closet. "Sit tight," he called over his shoulder.

You perched on the bed, watching his lanky frame disappear into the closet. "Will you pick something out for me?"

"You trust me that much? Bold move."

A chuckle escaped you, and you shook your head, a strand of hair falling into your face. "Just no bow ties, please."

“No promises.”

Moments later, Spencer emerged, holding a soft-looking sweater and a pair of comfortable joggers. "Here."

You took the clothes, the fabric soft under your fingertips. It smelled like him."Turn around, please."

Spencer's eyebrow shot up. "Turn around?" he exclaimed, but his smile revealed just how amused he was.

He leaned in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips before obligingly spinning on his heel to give you privacy.

With Spencer's back turned, you quickly changed into the clothes he had chosen. They were perfect—comfortable, roomy, and more importantly, made you feel more like yourself.

"Okay, you can look now."

Spencer turned, his gaze drinking you in, hands falling to rest on the small of your back. "How’s that feel?”

You looked down at yourself, then back up at him through the mirror. “Like I can breathe again.”

He nodded, his hand finding yours, giving a squeeze. “Good, because to me, you always look perfect.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer Reid x gender fluid reader #spencer reid x afab reader #spencer reid Drabble #Spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic

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redwlf843 · 1 day

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Looking out for her

Abby Anderson x fem! reader

Summary: you were tired and you missed your girlfriend so safe to say you were not in the mood today. When Mel starts saying some stuff about Abby you can’t help but come to your girlfriend’s defense

Warnings: arguments, cursing, tiny bit of Mel bashing, tiny bit of Owen bashing, mentions of anxiety, I think that’s it.

You were not in the fucking mood today. Your knee is still hurting from your previous patrol, you woke up late so you got barely anything for breakfast, and Isaac has Abby running so ragged you’ve only seen her in passing within the last 72 hours.

You usually didn’t kind lending a hand in the medical tents, sure sometimes it got rough but for the most part it was just dealing with superficial injuries and when the little ones got sick. But today. Oh after today you just might request a permanent change. You’re usually friendly decent with Mel. It’s no secret she has something against Abby, usually it’s just snide comments you can brush off or something mumbled under her breath.

But today you came into the medical tent at just the wrong right time.

“It’s her fault you know. Owen is barely on base, he barely sleeps, he’s just he’s not the same anymore. Ever since Jackson he’s not the same. If she would have just acted like a normal person and not some blood thirsty mon-“

Slam

You slammed the canister of disinfectant on the table making Mel and the other person in the tent jump.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You asked seething.

“Nothing. Let’s just get back to work.” Mel says brushing you off.

“No. You don’t get to say shit like that and brush me off.”

“Oh? I don’t get to? What you’re going to clobber me like your crazy fucking girlfriend does?”

You can see the moment she realizes what she has said but you’re too far gone, you’re pissed and you can’t help yourself your mouth opens before you think.

“We both know this isn’t about Abby, we both know that this is about your insecurity about Owen but Abby is your scapegoat so you don’t have to realize that you’re pussy of a boyfriend who’s too afraid to step up and take responsibility for a choice her made” your eyes flick to her pregnant belly before meeting her eyes again. “Is still in love with his fucking ex. You see it and I see it the way he watches her it’s disgusting, Abby has told him to grow up and move on but no he can’t take a goddamn hint so instead of going off on my girlfriend who has tried to lend an olive branch so many fucking times maybe you need to fucking talk to Owen and get your shit together.”

The tent was silent all that could be heard was your heavy breathing as your rage dissipated, the fogginess of your mind faded and you could see the wetness gathering at the corners of Mel’s eyes and part of you felt bad but the other part of you hoped this would be a wake up call for her to realize that with Owen she’d be doing everything on her own.

You spared her one final glance before rushing out of the tent accidentally knocking into someone’s shoulder.

You head was starting to hurt, you could fell your heart racing, your hands were shaky and clammy. God you hated conflict, ironic for a WLF. You had to get back yours and Abby’s living quarters.

Abby was exhausted, she never slept well without you and all the work Isaac had her doing well she was lucky if she was able to catch a nap in the library for more than 4 hours. She was looking over some maps trying to plan the best patrol routes to prevent being ambushed by scars, when she heard hurried footsteps getting closer to her.

“Pendja!” Manny called out to her

“Pendajo” Abby responded her attention still on the maps pinned to the wall

Manny rushed around the corner and was behind her trying to catch his breath having rushed from the med tent to find her.

“You need to go get your girl.” Told her

Abby froze her mind jumping to the worst conclusions possible

“What? Why? Where is she? Is she okay?” Abby turned around quickly and manny saw the panicked look in her eyes

“She’s okay, it’s nothing like what you’re thinking.” He told her trying to calm her down from whatever she was thinking

“Her in Mel got into it in the Med tent, I guess Mel was talking some shit and your girl ripped her a new one. She rushed out real quick, rushed past me look like she was headed for your place, I’d look there first.” Manny explained

“Shit” Abby sighed under her breath, she scrubs her hand down her face and starts walking to the door

“Thanks Manny”

“Any time pendaja, go get your girl.”

Abby chuckled as she left but there was no humor behind it, she was worried she had to get to you quickly.

“Aye remind me not to piss your girl off she’s scary when she’s mad.” Manny called out to her not expecting an answer

“it was kinda hot” Manny mumbled to himself as he went to his assigned duties.

You were curled up in bed wearing one of Abby’s hoodies, you had your face buried in Abby’s pillow as you laid on your side. You were tired but you were wound up to even try and nap. You’ve never even heard yourself that angry before.

You were playing the events over in your head when you heard the open

“Baby?” You heard Abby call out worriedly

“Addy?” You called back from the bed sitting up

You heard her walking down the small steps to the bed

“There you are” she says more to herself when she sees you, the worried look on her face worsens as she see the way your cheeks and nose are red, the tear tracks on your face and the puffiness under your eyes.

“Oh baby girl” consoles as she rushes over to the bed, getting under the covers and pulling you to her so your head was on her chest. She has both her arms wrapped around you, one hand rubbing your back. She kisses your head.

“What happened today baby girl?” She asks you

You sigh “I was working med tents today and Mel was saying some shit about you and that pissed me off and I just I don’t know I just lost it and went off on her.” You tell her.

“I’m sorry Abby” you sigh

“For what? From what it sounds like you didn’t do anything wrong” Abby was confused if anyone had to apologize it was Mel

“You’ve been trying hard to fix things up with her and I ruined it for you.”

“Well if she was talking shit about me behind my back then I don’t think I’ve been fixing it to well huh?” Abby chuckles humorlessly

“Baby you have nothing to be sorry for, If anything I should apologize to you. You shouldn’t have to fight my battles for m-“

She’s cut off by your lips

“I will always defend you, no matter what.” You tell her

She gives you a small smile and kisses you again

“Let’s just lay here for now, maybe take a nap or something and then we can deal with this later, huh how does that sound?” She asks as she kicks off her shoes and lets them fall to the floor, then her pants, leaving her in her shirt and boxers.

“Hmm that’s the best idea you’ve had in days.” You tell her and you both chuckle as you roll onto your side feeling her arms wrap around you and pull you to her. Her front against your back.

With Abby with you it feels like everything might just turn out okay.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader

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magpie-lu-aside · 7 hours

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So. About that shadow crystal and the Master Sword. (All art belongs to @linkeduniverse and JoJo!)

I want to discuss this part because I find Four, Wind, and Legends reactions interesting, specifically because it was those three who had the argument over Twi in the first place. An argument that all three of them seem to not want to bring up again at all.

I've seen some posts saying that Four and Twilight are gonna have a talk about it (and I'm sure they will) but I'm wondering if they're gonna have a talk about the argument again too. (post got long, if you want to read more its under the cut)

(takes place in sunset pt 11)

So here's the thing about The Argument™. Four and Legend are the ones to have an opinion on the crystal itself, with Wind being more concerned about Twilight's status at that moment and wondering if the blood (not the crystal) is what could corrupt him. Wind seems to be almost unconcerned about the crystal which is why I think he was excited about the transformation rather than concerned (Four) and.... Whatever Legend is doing (I'll get back to that).

Legend and Wind also almost immediately put the argument behind them. They ran to find a great fairy fountain....

... And have interacted past this point. And I think that's because overall they agree on this, both of them have trust in the Master Sword to nullify whatever corrupting power the crystal could theoretically have.

But Four and Legend on the other hand? They have not talked to each other one on one since then.

Before this, they teased each other, Four trusted him to work on Wilds sword, and they seemed fine to be in each others space and just talk and conspire a little bit. But now? They barely even speak to each other even within the group. In fact when they do interact in a group both seem... not fully annoyed but not really laughing at each others jokes either.

Also despite the fact Legend was on the team to work on Wild's sword in the beginning, he didn't show up in the towns blacksmith to help either. And while its very easily argued he did that to stay with Twilight, based on this reaction,

He was asked or at least knew they were doing it. He was also fine spoiling the surprise to Wild despite it being mainly Fours gift (and symbol of forgiveness). He refused to join either way, and I think it could both be because he wanted to be by Twilight and also because he just... Didn't really want to interact with Four.

Now to bring it back to Legends reaction to the transformation (told you it'd come back). I don't think Legend particularly likes the crystal (who can blame him really) and I think he's with Four on not really liking the magic, so unlike Wind who's excited to see it hes still a little.. Iffy on the magic itself. And I think that still can cause tension, but that's more of a red herring to the real thing that's causing strife... And that's the Master Sword itself.

Legend and Four didn't argue over the crystal. They argued about the Master Sword. I think the shadow crystal was just the tipping point to get them talking about the Sword and make Four oppose it in some way. Four has always been indifferent to the sword, not really willing to wield it and has been absent from discussing it. But after that? I think with Four and Legend being on opposing sides, along with Time and Sky (whole other discussion I cant delve into cuz good god this post is long enough as is) is leading me into thinking that the next arc is going to delve more into that strife. And its going to be harder to overcome than Twilight being injured.

tl;dr I think Four and Legend still have beef after sunset pt 11 and its going to boil over on them and its their inability to discuss the Master Sword like normal peoples fault.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu four #lu wind #lu twilight #linked universe theory #sorry if this doesnt read well. i dont often theory post #but i havent really seen anyone discuss the fall out with four and legend #and i wanted to because it rots my head sometimes

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coraniaid · 1 day

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Made a list of some various ways in which Kendra could have continued to appear in the show after Faith. Sorted roughly both in order of increasing impact on the plot and increasing suspension of disbelief required on the part of the audience:

Kendra stays dead, but somebody (ideally somebody who actually met her, but failing that just about anybody) brings her name up, in any context, after her last canonical mention on the show (by Cordelia in Faith, Hope & Trick). This is ... the baseline, surely. (Do you know nobody but Cordelia mentions her by name at all after Season 2? Or that there are multiple conversations in early Season 3 in which it's discussed that Buffy was wanted for murder but has since been cleared, but not one in which it is acknowledged that the person she was wrongly accused of murdering was her friend and fellow Slayer?)

Kendra stays dead, but the First takes on her appearance at any point (either in Amends or in Season 7). There's a lot of talk about how the writers were hoping to bring back Xander's friend Jesse for Conversations With Dead People, but I've never seen anything about them doing the same for Kendra, despite the fact that Kendra appeared more times on the show (and more recently) and clearly mattered far more to Buffy. And given that the writers insisted on recasting Nikki Wood this season (despite her original actor wanting to come back!), I'm not exactly inclinced to give them the benefit of the doubt here.

Kendra stays dead, but for some reason only known to the writers, Amy Madison casts a spell to make one of the Potentials look just like her for an episode. It is never made clear why Amy would do this beyond a vague desire to mess with Buffy, how she knew about Kendra in the first place, or what consequences -- if any - Amy ever faces after casting this spell. Somehow it's still only very slightly less stupid than the actual canon plot of Season 7's The Killer In Me (which, to be clear, this would not replace in my vision; randomy-evil!Amy does two very similar spells back to back, ideally in consecutive episodes).

Kendra stays dead, but -- in classic Star Trek Mirrorverse fashion -- the writers use some sort of magical contrivance to allow the Kendra from the Wishverse (who was, presumably, Called as a Slayer the moment that the Master killed that reality's Buffy Summers) to visit 'our' reality. (This isn't really within the rules as presented in The Wish, but if Vampire Willow can do it....). Imagine a version of Season 6's As You Were when Buffy doesn't have to try to justify herself to her shitty ex -- the man who left her to fight a god and die so that he could go and make Belize safe for missionaries -- but instead she has to come face to face with the perfect, by-the-book Slayer who died as a direct result of Buffy's last relationship with a vampire.

Kendra stays dead ... until Bargaining. Willow messes up her resurrection spell a little bit and accidentally brings back more than one dead Slayer. Kendra hangs around for the rest of the show and is understandably very confused throughout (in particular, she could have sworn that Buffy didn't have a little sister four years ago...). Maybe the Watchers show up again, after Kendra tries contacting Sam Zabuto for advice. Maybe Kendra reacts just as badly to being brought back from the dead as Buffy initially does (and, look, if she wants to follow Buffy's example and start a relationship with one of the monsters she's meant to be Slaying, Anya will be newly single in just a few months' time...)

Kendra stays mostly dead, but a certain academic at UC Sunnydale with ties to the US military has been hearing rumours and myths about "Slayers" from captured demons and vampires for a while now. Long enough to become curious, and to pull a few strings at the local morgue when the rumour mill tells her a vampire somehow managed to kill a Slayer. Said academic has been funneling government money to work on her own "perfect soldier" project for a long time, and what better test subject to demonstrate this work on than a Slayer of her own? It turns out that most of Kendra's memories are still intact, after a little bit of not-exactly-ethical post-mortem surgery gets her heart working again, and as luck would have it she's even been trained for years to follow orders and never question authority. She's perfect. Realizing that the name "Adam" was a bit on the nose anyway, Professor Walsh starts a new project in Room 314...

Kendra was left for dead by Drusilla, bleeding out and unconcious on the floor of Sunnydale High School library, but it turns out that modern medicine is a bit better than it was in Drusilla's day and Slayers have this whole enhanced healing deal that the canon show sometimes forgets about. Yeah, her heart stops a couple of times in the ER, which is enough for a third Slayer to be called as in canon (and Buffy might not know that Kendra is going to make it when she goes to fight Angelus or when she leaves town), but by the time Willow is up and walking around again, so is Kendra.

Kendra is alive at the beginning of Season 3, filling in for Buffy in Sunnydale while the other Slayer is living as 'Anne' in LA. After Buffy comes back, Kendra leaves town for another Hellmouth but still regularly makes cameo appearances every season. Faith is also there, just like in canon, and the fact that Faith should only have been activated as a Slayer if Kendra died is simply never addressed. (I mean, let's be honest, it's not like the show particularly cares about continuity anyway.)

#btvs

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acewritesfics · 2 days

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Kiss Already! | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: Unedited.

Word Count: 1,051

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Y/N stands next to her car leaning back against the driver's door waiting for her younger brother to get out of his Dungeons and Dragons meet. She would usually wait in the car but with a slight headache, the fresh air was helping ease it a little.

She looks at her watch hoping they’ll be walking out of the Hawkins High School building any minute now.

When another ten minutes went by, she decided to go find her brother herself. She’s about to walk through the doors when they swing open, causing her to step back so she doesn’t get hit by them.

“Y/N!” Dustin exclaims seeing his older sister.

“I was coming to look for you.” She tells him.

“Sorry about taking longer than usual, Eddie wanted to talk to me about something,” he says, explaining why he was later than usual.

“Everything okay?” she asks, her heart lightly fluttering at the mention of the young man’s name.

“Yeah,” he answers with a slight nod of his head “we should get home before mom starts to worry.”

She agrees and follows him back to her car. She was about to get back into the rundown car when she heard her name called. She looks towards where the voice came from and sees Eddie. A light blush covers her cheeks.

“Hi Eddie,” she greets the soon to be 20-year-old as he reaches her. Y/N had done senior year last year with Eddie. Back then she had thought he was cute, and he intimidated her in a way. She heard the rumors and the name calling but chose to ignore it. She hadn’t really interacted with him since they didn’t run in the same social circles or have many classes together so she couldn’t really form her own opinions on the kid everyone called a freak.

But now her brother was a freshman, and it didn’t surprise you that he had joined Eddie’s D&D group, the Hellfire Club. She was happy that he did too. It was a good distraction for the young teen who seemed to really look up to their infamous Dungeon Master. Dustin needs more positive older male role models in his life. There was only so much her and their mom could do.

It also gives Y/N a good excuse to finally get to know Eddie outside of school. She’s found she likes him more than she thought he would. She finds him naturally charismatic and charming. He was rough around the edges but with a soft and kind heart. He was unapologetically himself and she admires that about him. The first real conversation they had, he had her laughing and feeling at ease within five minutes.

Over the last three months she has developed a crush on him. She had graduated six months ago but she was feeling like she was back in middle, blushing, her heart fluttering and butterflies in her stomach every time she thinks about the man now standing in front of her. She felt silly now being an adult with a schoolgirl crush on her brother's dungeon master.

But what she doesn’t know was that Eddie Munson feels the same about her but his crush started the moment she walked into his English class last year, wearing tight high waisted jeans that hugged her body perfectly, her favourite black Metallica shirt, a silver cross hanging from neck, a cluster of bracelets on her left wrist and a signet ring on her right hand. She also wore headphones over her ears, listening to whatever cassette she had in her Walkman. For Eddie it was love at first sight. But he could never bring himself to make a move on her, fearing that she would reject him and that she thought the same as everyone else about him. So, he spent a year pining after a girl he thought was way out of his league.

Until Dustin Henderson started his freshman year at Hawkins High. He had recruited the young teen and his friends, seeing the potential in them for his D&D campaigns. It was a bonus when he found out Dustin is Y/N’s younger brother. He used this to his advantage to get to know more about Y/N and build some kind of relationship with her. It was also no secret between the club that Eddie is completely smitten with her, despite Dustin’s objections at the start of their unconventional friendship.

“Hi,” Eddie breathes taking the young woman in. He can’t help the grin that graces his lips as he notices the shirt she’s wearing. It was the Metallica one he’d seen her in the first time he had noticed her. His big deep brown eyes move from her shirt back up to her face, connecting with her Y/E/C eyes. Both suddenly felt nervous. “Uh… so, my band has a… uh, has a gig on Tuesday night, at The Hideout. I was wondering if you, if you would like to come. It’s not much of a gig really since our audience is 5 drunks and a bar tender or two. If you don’t want to come-”

“I would love to,” she cuts off his rambling, her heart thumping against her chest. She feels as though she’s dreaming.

“Yeah?” He asked, surprised she’d agreed to come.

She nods. “Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great!” He cheers. “I’ll pick you up at 6 and maybe we can get something to eat before it.”

“Sounds amazing,” she smiles at his excitement, feeling equally excited with a bit of nervousness.

“Jesus Christ, would you two just kiss already!” Dustin yells over the roof of the car looking between his new friend and sister annoyed and unimpressed.

“Get in the car!” Y/N shouts back, sending the younger Henderson a glare, her cheeks once again burning red. Dustin flips her off before climbing into the car.

“So, I’ll see you Tuesday night?” Eddie smirks, his confidence returning fully.

“Can’t wait,” she finds herself smiling again.

Finding the courage, Eddie leans in pressing a kiss to her cheek surprising her. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Sweetheart.”

With that Eddie walks away to his van, leaving her stunned until she hears Dustin yelling at her to hurry up.

Getting into her car, she pushes the key into the ignition and starts the drive home.

#acewritesfics repost #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 days

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Imagine Reminiscing With Hunter

Hunter X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Angst, all the feels, fluff

Word Count: 930

(A/N:) Okay I gave myself some major feels in this one. As I have gone through a lot of loss within the last 3 years this helped me heal just a little bit. I hope this helps bring a little bit of closure to the series. Though I loved the final season I was a little bit disappointed in how fast the ending came. It ended a little quickly (or I just didn't want it to end) but I'm so glad they got the ending they deserved. Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

It wasn't unusual for Hunter to disappear during the night, you had grown used to his disappearances during the waning hours of the night. As a soldier, created for one purpose in life, it wasn't unusual for his senses to overwhelm him. So in moments you would give him his space, but other times you would search for him. You had a way of telling whatever Hunter needed. As a leader, he had to be the guidance and rock of the team. Now he didn't have to worry about such things, but it had still taken it's toll over the years. This moment, finding Hunter's side cooling and him nowhere in the room and the solemnness that had overcome the tightknit family, you knew that Hunter needed you this time.

Searching for any signs of the aging clone, you noticed Batcher's absence as well. Normally the loyal creature was holed up with Omega. But even the younger girl's room was barren of her presence. That's when you knew, she was making good on her argument with her brother's this evening. You sighed deeply, breath hitching as your heart cracked. Passing by Wrecker's open door, deep snores echoing out into the hall, you knew Hunter needed you now more than ever.

Pabu was silent as the town slept on. You sat on the stairs a hot cup of caf in hand as you waited for Hunter's return. The stars above glistening brightly before a ship crossed over above your head, and you knew the blonde haired girl was making her own way in the galaxy. Batcher's padded steps alerted you to the return of Hunter. The Lurca snuffled your hand before heading inside. Though happy to see you, you could tell the creature was saddened by her body language. Hunter sighed deeply and you gave him a sad smile.

"Caf," you asked holding out the cup.

He nodded and took your offering, then took a seat as you patted the spot beside you. You had the uncanny ability to know just exactly what he needed. And caf answered a lot of life's more problematic issues. Though it warmed his body and alerted his senses, it couldn't heal the fresh wound in his heart.

"I take it she's gone," you sniffed, fighting back the tears.

"Yeah," he answered, taking another sip. "I couldn't talk her out of it. I didn't even try."

"She wouldn't have listened. That's why she try sneaking away," you replied. "She can't just sit by and do nothing while other's suffered. It's never been in her nature and," you nudged Hunter with an elbow, "she learned it from you."

"Doesn't make it any easier," he chuckled. "I still remember the first time I saw her on Kamino. I never understood why she was so drawn to us."

"It's because you guys were different," you paused. "Like her."

"Tech taught her a lot too. He was the best out of all of us."

You smiled, wiping a stray tear, "He was definitely a rebel. You probably shouldn't have let her spend so much time with him, he clearly influenced her."

Hunter nodded, grinning to himself behind the mug of caf, "I wouldn't change a thing."

"I wouldn't either," you agreed. "But you know Tech wasn't the only one she learned from. Echo had a lot to do with her to, Wrecker was a total enabler, Crosshair too when he wanted, and don't even get me started on you. You were like a father figure to her. You protected her and you taught her in your own way."

Hunter leaned his head back, taking a deep shuttering breath.

"What I'm getting to is," you grabbed his hand giving it a gentle squeeze, "she had good teachers in her brothers. In you guys. The Force is with her and her other brother is out there watching over her too. Tech is all for this and you know it. He goes with her wherever she goes and so do you, Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair. She is a part of you and her you. It's a cycle we must live. We have them and then we have to let them go, whether that is in something they must set out to do or they end their race of life."

"That's the only reason I let her go," Hunter replied.

He finished his caf and set the empty mug aside. You held your arms out offering him the comfort he needed now more than ever. Hunter tugged you towards him setting his chin on the top of your head. His beard catching a few of your hairs. You cried softly, letting yourself free yourself from emotions, and Hunter wiped at a few stray tears. The galaxy such a vast place, you meet so many people and they make you into you. He never regretted for one moment having Omega in his life and that's why it hurt so much in letting her go. With one final squeeze Hunter let you go, wiping at wet eyes and cheeks.

You laughed wobblily, still drying tears. "Now this just raises the question. Who's going to tell Wrecker?"

Hunter shook his head, grabbing both of the empty cooling mugs, "I'm not."

"I'm not either," you argued.

He paused for one moment and you both stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Crosshair," you both said in unison making you both laugh.

With sorrowful but light hearts you both went back inside the warm home, hand in hand. Ready for whatever the galaxy threw towards your way next.

#Hunter X Reader #Hunter / Reader #Hunter #The Bad Batch #TBB #Hunter Imagine #The Bad Batch Imagine #Star Wars #Not My Gif #My Writing

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mignightpages · 22 hours

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The Fruit of The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (And Other Forbidden Things) Spencer Reid x Reader

Chapter One

Masterlist

He had finally found it; the man at the gas station meant what he said when he said you would know the house when you saw it.

The mansion was rather imposing. Old yet well-kept, it had a Victorian feel. It had a wraparound porch, turrets, and archways with stained-glass windows. The brick that structured the building looked like each piece had been individually cleaned. Then there were the roses. Well-trimmed rose bushes lined the pathways up to the house. If he squinted, it seemed like there were little stone statues between each set of bushes.

He sat there momentarily, unsure of what to do with himself. It was nostalgic; he swore his mother had read to him about a place like this. He sat there for a while but didn't know how long it would be before he finally shut the car off and got out. His feet didn't even touch when the doors to the house slammed open.

"Doctor Spencer Reid!" the voice of a tall, strong-looking man rang deep and rumbling with a southern drawl that sounded like it belonged in a period of peace in the 1800s. We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival." The man approached him in a friendly manner.

He shook the man's hand. "Good to be here, sir. Thank you for welcoming me into your home." Spencer gave him a polite smile while he shook the man's hand. He could only assume that this was Mr. Abernathy. Only the man of the house could behave in such a confident way. He was well put together in a clean, pressed three-piece suit. His dark hair was combed to the side.

"It's always a pleasure to entertain guests," Mr. Abernathy answered with a smile. His eyes were sharp and slightly intimidating. "Especially critically acclaimed academics like yourself." Spencer nodded. He may have been flattered, but a question lingered in the back of his mind.

"How exactly do you know Rossi?" He asked as he went to the back of the car to grab his bags. The only connection that he could possibly imagine them having was the wealth that they both had.

"Oh, don't you worry about your bags, Doctor; I'll have my sons take care of that for you." Spencer was about to continue, to open his mouth and say that he was more than willing to carry his own bags. He was a grown man. He could handle his own baggage. But the man had a pension for talking and kept going without a second thought. He began walking up the front porch path, and Spencer figured it would be best to follow. "David and I were in boot camp together. We still talk from time to time."

Spencer nodded, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he walked up the cobbled path to the porch. Then, he realized the little statues between each immaculately cared-for bush were little stone cherubim.

"I have to say, Doctor Reid, when David called, I was apprehensive to let you come." His words sounded like a warning—polite, but a warning nonetheless. You see, my family and I are very private. We tend to stray away from having strangers around for long periods. But David holds you in high regard."

They reached the porch, but Mr. Abernathy stayed in front of the door, blocking the entrance. He looked Spencer up and down, trying to figure out what he was about. "I assure you, sir, I am going to do my best to stay out of you and your family's way. I have no intention of causing your family harm… just needed to get away for a while". Spencer nodded, his words holding a sense of truth. He had gained a fondness for solidarity within his lifetime.

Mr. Abernathy seemed satisfied with Spencer's words, and he opened the door for Spencer, allowing him access to the house and another century. There was an ornate chandelier that hung in the foyer, a grand winding staircase that led upstairs, a hallway leading to the kitchen, and doors that granted access to the sitting room.

"My children should be in the sitting room." Mr. Abernathy said, guiding Spencer to the large oak doors and opening them with a flourish. Clearly, the man was wealthy and didn't mind showing it off when he was given the chance.

The men were sitting in the room, all varying ages, indulging in varying activities. They were all large, strong-looking young men. The one who seemed to be the oldest was playing chess, the one Spencer assumed to be the middle child was reading, and the youngest seemed to be translating Latin.

"Boys. Come greet Doctor Reid. Don't be rude." Like a drill sergeant, Mr. Abernathy spoke in a deep, commanding voice that immediately had all of his sons'son's attention. They immediately fell into line in a creepy synchronicity. "These are my sons; this is my oldest, James." James was tall, taller than his father, maybe even taller than Spencer. He had a muscular build, one that was intimidating. "This is my middle child, William." William was the shortest of the group, with circular wire-framed glasses and bright blue eyes. "Then this is my youngest son, Jude." Jude was taller than William but was shorter than James. He had this look of mischief behind his eyes and a Cheshire cat grin.

Mr. Abernathy froze, looking between his sons and then around the sitting room. "Where is your sister? I told her that I wanted her here when Doctor Reid arrived."

The brothers looked at one another. Jude was the first to speak up, though it came out as more of a mumble than anything else. "Maybe she's trying to stick her head in the oven again." He snickered, and James quickly stomped on his toes. He seemed to be the more responsible one of the bunch. That comment alarmed Spencer, who was unsure if he needed to take that with a grain of salt or be alarmed.

"She was in the garden by the lake," James said, earning a disgruntled noise from Mr. Abernathy.

"I'll be back in a moment." Mr. Abernathy murmured before leaving Spencer with the three sons.

"So, have you killed anyone?" Jude asked eagerly. The moment his father was away, James reached around and smacked him on the back of his head. He gave him a look that told him he needed to shut up. An awkward silence ensued until Mr. Abernathy returned, guiding a young girl with him; she walked in front of him with his hands on her shoulders. He had a grip on her that didn't look painful, but it was like he was worried that she was going to just run off.

She seemed… different, at least from the girls that he was used to seeing in Virginia. Her hair was a mess, and her white dress seemed dirty. Her father whispered in her ear; Spencer could only make out bits in pieces.

"I was just out playing Daddy," She murmured as he brought her into the sitting room. Mr. Abernathy just pushed her to go stand with her brothers.

Mr. Abernathy gave a deep sigh, motioning towards the girl. "This is my youngest… y/n." Despite the fact it seemed the girl was intent on causing her father trouble, he looked at her with a fondness that he didn't have for the boys. "James will show you to your room and explain the rules of the house… Jude and William will get your bags for you."

James walked past Spencer, heading up the stairs and motioning him to follow. "Your room is next to y/ns… She is usually rather quiet, so she won't bother you."

The room was spacious and well-decorated. It had a four-poster bed made of dark oak, a desk for him to work at, and overall room for his belongings and the books that he had brought.

James went over to the window and opened the curtains. "Dinners at 6:30… we usually dress for dinner, but nothing too formal."

Spencer nodded his eyes, following the young man. He had a certain quality about him. "We go to church on Sunday mornings, and the maids come and collect the laundry on Thursday morning. We don't drink or smoke, and we don't bother Father in the study when he's working."

"Well. I'll leave you to get ready for dinner." James said, giving Spencer a respectful bow of his head before leaving. At some point, William and Jude had left his bags at the bedroom door.

As he went to get his bags, he looked up and saw that the door across from his room was open. He didn't mean to stare but couldn't help but look. The room was pink, very pink. That soft pastel kind. The room, from what he could see, was lined with cream-colored bookshelves that were completely full. By her window sat a small table with a chess set. He shook himself out of it and went back into his room to unpack and prepare for dinner.

#mgg fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #mgg #mgg x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #Dr Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic

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homosexual-newsboy · 2 days

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Goodbye Don't Last Forever

Javey. Kind of funny ngl. Enjoy.

David Jacobs was eighteen and newly graduated when his girlfriend, Francis Sullivan, left for Santa Fe, leaving no goodbye and no way to contact her.

David went crazy when she left. He loved her and she left without a word to him. He made some stupid (but not too regrettable) decisions in the time after. Dyed his dirty blonde hair a dark shade of brown. Started wearing his glasses again. Went outside only when required (as in almost never). Stopped talking to many of his friends.

Only two of the habits died, and fortunately it was those last two. He found himself to be pretty fine within a few months of her being gone.

Six years later, David Jacobs was 24 years old and getting a new roommate.

"Hi, are you David?" A confident voice came from behind him.

He turned to face- woah he's hot- the person asking the question.

"Yeah, yes, that's me. David Jacobs. Hi."

The man smiled and held out a hand to shake.

"Jack Kelly."

Those eyes... that handshake. So familiar. But the familiarity was out of reach in David's mind.

So he stood up a little straighter, smiled back, and said, "Nice to meet you in person finally. I mean I trusted Albert enough to not find me a serial killer roommate but... I feel very assured now, haha..."

"I won't kill ya, Davey."

Davey...

"Good to know. Same here. Do you need help taking anything up?"

Jack shook his head. "All I's got is this." He nodded to a moderately sized suitcase that he was gripping.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's nothing, Dave. I just had to leave kinda quickly and didn't have much anyways."

"Well, uh. Let me uh... I guess, follow me?"

...

David was down bad for his roommate. And, down bad as in like, Taylor Swift "if I can't have him/I might just die it would make no difference."

Something about him, Jack, felt so familiar in all the most wonderful ways. His smile was a smile David felt like he had seen dozens of times.

David wanted to know why. He wanted to know why this boy felt so natural in the environment. Why he seemed to be the missing piece in David's life.

He was going to find out.

Not today though, he decided, when Jack entered the apartment looking like he was about to burst into tears.

"Hey, are you okay?" David asked slowly.

Jack nodded stiffly, putting his head down and throwing his bag and coat to the floor.

"Jack, you look sad."

"I'm fine."

"Jack."

"I ain't- you don't gotta be all in my business." Jack was heading to his tiny bedroom, so David grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You can tell me, you know?"

Jack leaned forward, hugging David, beginning to cry.

"Woah, hey. Hey, it's alright, let it out..." David wished Jack would hug him more often, and not while crying.

Jack continued to cry for maybe three minutes, David didn't know exactly. What David did know is that when Jack made eye contact with him, he looked like he had done something horrible.

"I ain't a real boy, Dave."

David's heart could have shattered just then, hearing Jack sound so broken.

"What do you mean, you aren't a real boy?"

"I wasn't- I'm not- I am a boy. I know and promise that I am but I just- wasn't born that way and I feel like a fraud and I get sad sometimes."

"That's okay to be sad, Jack. But you're a boy, I know you are. If you say you're a boy, you're a boy. No, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Okay, Jack Kelly, you are no boy, you're a freakin' man."

Jack smiled a little, wiping his eyes dry.

"Thank ya, Davey."

...

David was having none of this "stay up until 3 AM painting" bullshit.

"Jack Kelly, you will start going to bed at a decent time or so help me-"

"I'm fine, Dave!" Jack defended himself.

"You drank four coffees today and three energy drinks. I don't even know how you're still alive!"

"Fine, fine. I will be in bed no later than midnight."

"Is that the best I'm gonna get?"

"Yup."

David sighed, deciding to give in.

"At least show me what you've been working on into the ungodly hours of the night?"

"Maybe someday." Jack smiled mysteriously and disappeared once again into his room.

David was not staring at his fine ass as he retreated. He wasn't.

...

"Davey, do you got any food?"

David was regretting getting a roommate but also enjoyed having someone around. He didn't appreciate having to buy random shit every other week because Jack had a craving and pretty much no money. (He spent his money on rent and art supplies, which David didn't mind because his apartment was cheaper and Jack's art was amazing.)

"We have fruit snacks and spaghetti-o's if that qualifies as food. We might also have a banana."

Jack strolled into the kitchen area after David's previous statement and pulled out a packet of fruit snacks, a can of spaghetti-o's, and the blender.

"What the fuck are you doing?" David asked, shocked and amused all at once.

"I'm making me some dinner, you want some?"

"Jack, there is no way in Hell you are going to eat- drink spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks put through the blender. It's gonna be terrible."

"Actually, no it isn't. My old friend dared me to do it and it actually tastes good."

David had a brief memory flash through his mind.

"Francis! I dare you to put the two most different things you can think of in the blender and then drink it." Race shouted.

"Okay, I'll do it." Francis smiled that daredevil smile of hers and got started. Spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks.

When it was complete, Francis took a long drink.

"Wow. That's actually not terrible."

"Davey, you good?"

David nodded. "Sorry, just. You just reminded me of something."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Ex-girlfriend."

"Thought you said you're gay?"

"She kind of helped me out on discovering that."

"Well. That's nice of her. How so?"

"Uh. It's a long story."

"I bet I can handle it. Besides, I have an abomination to drink. I'll listen."

"Oh. Okay. Well. Basically, she decided she was going to Santa Fe and wasn't going to, you know, say goodbye to me or anyone. And I spent a long time angry and then realized I didn't really miss her romantically at all and just was pissed, and then me and my friend Albert accidentally fucked when we were drunk and I was like 'wow that's allowed?' and anyways uh Al and I aren't and weren't interested in each other at all, we were just drunk like I said, but then it all made sense why I wasn't like, sad over the 'love of my life' leaving because it was just a high school girlfriend and I'm not even into girls. So I'm not even mad at her anymore really I'm just gay and confused and I've talked a lot now sorry."

David looked up at Jack for a reaction. He was wearing this face... David could not name the emotion.

"What was her name?"

Huh. Weird question.

"Why?"

"Well, I was just wonderin' if maybe I met her, since I's come here from Santa Fe and all."

"Oh. Yeah, uh. Her name's Francis Sullivan."

"Have a picture?"

"Yeah, one sec." David scrolled through his phone's camera roll until he found her. "Here."

The picture made Jack frown, and David kind of would have done anything to make him smile again.

"You know her?" David asked.

"Yeah, uh. I knew her."

David's heart sped up.

"Really? Is she doing okay? Is she alright? Do you know where she lives, cause I might need to go-"

"Davey. Stop."

"What?"

"You can't exactly go visit her."

"Why not?"

Jack seemed to be looking inside himself instead of at David when he spoke.

"She was... the real depressed type, Dave. Always sad. She never smiled, I don't think. She was in a real bad state of mind."

"What're you-"

"She ain't alive no more."

Everything stopped in David's head.

"What?"

"I'm real sorry, Dave. She just ain't... But I'm here."

"What's that supposed to mean? 'You're here?'"

Jack hesitated before opening his mouth. "She didn't exactly... die the way you're thinking. She, uh. She just... more... changed? She ain't Francis anymore. She cut her hair and went on T and got top surgery and goes by a boy's name now, and he/him. So, uh, tellin' ya she died was probably not the brightest idea but that was an in-the-moment decision."

"Good for him. What does that have to do with you being here?"

Jack made absolute eye contact with David, wondering how he could be so fucking stupid, and held it. Held it as he crossed the room and held it up until the moment he pulled David into a hug.

"I'm sorry for leavin' you. I just had ta get away."

David jerked away from Jack in a quick movement.

"You? You're... You- I can't-" David's brain was moving too quickly and all he could think to do was punch Jack in the face as hard as humanly possible.

Which he did.

"Son of a bitch- Dave! I only told ya cause I thought you said ya weren't mad anymore!"

"Yeah, well. Now I am, asshole. You... You deep friend burnt-ass dino nugget dickhead. You absolute.... I can't even. How dare you? I fucking loved you, yes even if I'm gay now, and you, you just ran the fuck off and never bothered contacting me for six years. I would have understood if you needed to leave, needed to leave me, needed... whatever. I would have given you your space. I hate you."

Jack looked hurt. It made David feel good. All that pain he went through and it was being passed on.

"Davey-"

"David."

"Right, sorry. David. I'm really sorry. I don't- I never meant ta hurt you. To be honest, I thought you'd be glad if I left and never came back."

David felt less good.

"I just- I wanted to feel like I could be free. It didn't really... go as planned. Because I just realized I wanted to come back. Mostly for you."

David didn't stop to think. David just kissed Jack like he was hungry for it.

"I fucking hate you." He said, pulling away.

"No you don't."

"Don't test your luck."

A small moment of touching silence passed.

"So..." Jack started. "You slept with Al?"

"Now I actually do hate you. Get out, I'm calling him. Maybe he'll be nice to me."

"Davey... I love you. I always did."

"I'm... good to know. I can't- I'm still mad, bitch."

Jack just laughed, and he knew right then that it would all be fine.

A/N: hope y'all liked it :) It'll be on ao3 asap

#newsies #javey #fanfic #newsies fanfic #javey fanfic #I think its amazing #uhh has some cussing #but some bomb-ass insults #newsies live #trans Jack kelly

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queendomkey · 2 days

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I feel its no secret that I try to analyze the songs within the context of the album and that alone. I think there's so much artistry that is often ignored when trying to focus so solely on passing paternity tests about parables told by the potential paramour's songs. ( ok, I really reached for that alliteration, sorry. )

But like, I've been a Swiftie since 06. I do know that these songs are about Taylor Swift's life, and frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Empathy and connection are what, I think, her music is about. How deeply personal is absolutely part of the appeal.

I feel like this acknowledgement will definitely be more prescient in analyses to come, but... god, god, this song is heartbreaking, and it feels so personal. Some songs are vertical slices of the author's life, and dear god, does this feel like one.

Suppose the only thing left to do is place the slide under the microscope, yeah?

There's so much to go into here. The song is so mired in death. There's loss and grief, but this one feels more potent. The speaker isn't trying to justify her grief to other people this time, isn't trying to preempt it (see: Down Bad, saying she was heaven struck, even if for such a short time.)

We open on the title, framed in the same interval as church bells ( and Big Ben ) and throughout the song, we realize that the bells are for a funeral. Cause of death: disaffection and depression.

Can I say? I really love the delivery on the very first verse. I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist. She delivers it so softly, so warmly, with the last bit of hope the song holds. Fairy lights could be so many things - it could be literal, the fairy lights on someone's porch. It can also be literal for the homophonic meaning: ferry lights, seeing the boat leave as she says goodbye to London. It could be the mythic suggestion of the will o' the wisp, which exist to mislead the traveler who sees them. Perhaps our speaker's later actions are all in vain, because she was following ghostlights.

She tells the audience all she did to try and save her love. Kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. Keep Calm and Carry On being, memeticly, a piece of propaganda distributed in Great Britain during the lead up to WWII. This tells us that perhaps she tried to ignore the ways her relationship was failing, and then, when that didn't work, pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

Then, she tells us how her clinging hurt her. To hold so tightly to someone causes muscles to ache, and even the speaker says, [Her] spine split from carrying [them] up the hill. The speaker is starting to lose hope, here, I think. As she sees how much she's putting in, and how little her lover is giving back.

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the heath. / I stopped CPR / I was going down with [the ship.]

It is so clear, through vocal desperation and how deep Taylor's notes get, that the speaker gave everything she had to try and save this romance. But she was only given "quiet resentment" in return.

I try to only pull from TTPD for these posts, but the talk of going down with the ship, the imagery of rain ( wet through my clothes ) it all brings to mind just... One thing. Well, actually, two things:

Rain as a symbol of depression is very classic shorthand. We call rainy days "gloomy." I feel like, very obviously, the Speaker's lover is depressed, but I think, less obviously: the speaker is too.

How much sad did you think I had in me?

For me, it calls to mind an old friend, who was going through a dark spot at the same time as me. They... refused to work on getting better, and I hate to say it, but yes, getting better is such nasty work. In a way, the Speaker is expressing that too. She was putting in the nasty work of keeping their relationship together, but also, of putting herself back together.

And her lover didn't. He swore he loved her, but the speaker died on the altar waiting for the proof. You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days. Refusing to care, allowing yourself to wallow in depression when someone else is doing the work for you, will be the final straw in many relationships.

I think, by tying the two together, over this running beat, the speaker is explaining why she has to go. Why, for her own mental health, the relationship must end, before she, too, is sacrificed.

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

The speaker put so much work into the relationship (and by proxy, her lover's mental health) that she feels she reinvented her lover. And as he finds new loves, ones who've heard 'great things' about him, she feels resentment... And yet, she also doesn't. After all, she still says that they:

Had a good run / a moment of warm sun / but I'm not the one

In the end, though worsening mental health played a role, the death knell was the all too real: changing hearts and minds. Life went on, and the speaker and her lover fell out of love with each other. The Speaker could no longer choose to stay, not when their love was so obviously corpse cold. I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use.

She knows she'll take blame (You say I abandoned the ship,) for being the one to officially pull the plug. In the context of this song, though, the blame lays with everyone and no one. Some romance can't be resuscitated, and to continue to try well beyond expiration only creates dull, dying pangs.

Taylor creates such a living picture, for such a dying love, and it's genuinely such good songwriting.

#ttpdminutes #the cassandra speaks #So Long London #so long london going in the 'got 1k words' club bc i couldnt shut up

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vialae · 3 days

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I just love making kaidos and gortash petty and domestic so here is a section from my current WIP of them being exactly that

“Did you see in the Gazette that that string quartet from Waterdeep is travelling down into the city to play next Sixthday – on the fourteenth?” Gortash didn’t give Kaidos time to respond, knowing that he likely wouldn’t, before continuing on.

“They were initially supposed to play for just Lady Hhune at her birthday dinner, yet she seems to have been struck with an odd dose of generosity and requested them to perform from the playhouse rather than her own manor.” As much as he did despise how loose-lipped most other patriars were, Gortash could not resist gossiping with his partner. “Something about wanting others to witness the spectacle of their talents.”

Without the Banite having to say it, Kaidos knew where this was going. He could tell from his peripheral that Gortash was staring at him, waiting for their eyes to meet to make rejecting the request of going with him even more difficult. However, he would not give the little tyrant such satisfaction.

“I’m sure you will enjoy it a lot, then.” Kaidos climbed into bed, purposely not looking at his partner’s face.

“Oh, come on.” Gortash readily joined him, the covers barely over his thighs before he took hold of the Bhaalspawn’s right hand. He gently squeezed it, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles in a way he knew Kaidos was fond of. “For me? You would enjoy yourself, I promise you. It’s not everyday you get to listen to such wondrous musicians.”

The tiefling slowly turned his head toward the human. He considered not responding at all - the deadpan expression on his face would have been plenty enough for Gortash to glean his answer from. And yet, he simply could not resist.

Kaidos wetted his lips and leaned in toward Gortash to talk in a hushed tone.

“There is nothing you can give me to make me willingly sit still in a hall full of patriars for several hours, listening to music that I will never care for.”

“Nothing at all?” Gortash grinned and lowered his own voice as he leaned in until the tips of their noses touched, “I think you forget who you are talking to, my dear.”

“You won’t give me what I would want in a hall full of patriars.” Kaidos corrected himself.

In this harmless and petty face off for who would relent first, Gortash would never lose. He rearranged their fingers so he was holding his partner’s hand more securely while his thumb ran circles over the Calishite ruby ring which adorned the tiefling’s pinky finger. The ring which matched Gortash’s own amethyst one. The bastard knew what he was doing; lingering on such a personal and sentimental item as he spoke.

“I’m sure we could find somebody to spare for the evening.” He spoke as if he was still thinking about it, “Perhaps a niece or a nephew to the birthday girl. I do believe that it would be wonderfully tragic to have such a shocking end to what would have otherwise been a lovely day for her, don’t you?”

“And to get that, I need to sit and listen to the string quartet from Waterdeep?”

“Of course. You truly do benefit the most from this, don’t you think?”

Kaidos narrowed his eyes. Gortash was holding something back. “Only you ever benefit the most. What’s the catch?”

Gortash did so enjoy how sharp the Bhaalspawn remained. He grinned, the crows feet by his eyes becoming ever present. “I get to choose what you wear for the evening.”

His grip had to quickly tighten on Kaidos’ hand as he had attempted to pull it free. Both hands clasped over the large palm, slightly pulling on it to ensure he still had his partner’s attention. “You must look the part when attending such an event, my dear. We both know this. I promise you I will not choose anything too restrictive.”

Kaidos let out a huff of air through his nose. There were many other bodies within Baldur’s Gate that he could readily brutalise instead. Ones that didn’t require permission. However, he rarely did get permission to pluck a life from the Upper City. It was a rare treat that he found difficult to resist, and Gortash knew this. Bodies from the Upper City usually had more money on them. And richer meat.

The Bhaalspawn’s jaw clenched as he realised he would be the one to relent first from this petty exchange.

“I will think about it.”

“Wonderful.” Gortash patted the back of his hand. “That’s all I can ask for.” He had a triumphant look about him as he leaned in to peck Kaidos’ lips as if to seal the deal they both knew they would end up securing by this time tomorrow.

#the rest of the fic will not be as happy as this but #i cannot resist making them bicker yknow #also no idea if i will continue to share other wips in the future?? idk how much people would care for them yknow #dark urge #durge #enver gortash #durgetash #oc: kaidos escaris #my writing

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mllemaenad · 3 days

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So – Bethesda broke Fallout 4's script extender. Because of course they did. What better way to celebrate the release of your new TV show than to stall people's ongoing playthroughs? Excellent work. I don't even want an Enclave quest. It's Creation Club nonsense, so it won't actually be a proper quest anyway.

I want to finish my Sim Settlements 2 playthrough. Ugh.

So while I'm waiting for the dust to settle on that, I thought I'd give Fallout 76 another go. I am rebuilding my mod list for Fallout 3, but that's a work in progress. And Fallout 76 is right there.

I created a new character, because I haven't played this thing in ages and I know they've changed a bunch of the mechanics. And oh - ha. I mean, I had thought from the beginning that creating a game without NPCs was a terrible idea, because it's hard to invest in saving an empty world. But the addition of them makes playing the game's original main quest a distinctly bizarre experience.

I don't mean that I'm suddenly pro-empty world. Not at all. In general the presence of factions and personalities and people you can care about it a good thing.

But when they made this game, the writers and quest designers were given "empty world" as a parameter within which they had to work. And they did.

It's sort of an interesting, even bold, choice for a storyline because it does not allow you to feel good about yourself at all. Most Fallout games do. Oh, you can play evil if you want, sure, and there are a handful of side quests that are genuinely no win scenarios. But mostly? You can save the world. And you will probably have a better experience if you try to: there's more to do when you talk to the NPCs and deal with their problems rather than just murdering everyone and taking their stuff.

But Fallout 76 is just judging you.

I keep thinking about its promotional song – that really upbeat cover of Take Me Home, Country Roads, and all the imagery in the old trailer, about rebuilding and looking to the future. But all of that is functionally a lie, and the key lines in that song come towards the end:

I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me The radio reminds me of my home far away Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin' That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday – Take Me Home, Country Roads

You should have been home yesterday. You should have been home a thousand yesterdays ago. This story is all about the past, and a rebuilding effort you neglected to join. It hits you with the guilt straight away, as the very first place the game takes you is an old outpost of emergency service personnel who just kept on doing their jobs after the bombs fell. It's their notes and recordings that teach you how to survive.

Of course you encounter less pleasant people later: raiders and Enclave, and honestly I have little patience for any iteration of The Brotherhood of Steel. But even there, you can see that the misunderstandings and conflicts and general fuck ups might have been resolved with a competent mediator.

And that is exactly what you are. You're a Fallout protagonist. You don't have the time to spend ten years sitting in a lab, but you excel at travelling from town to town and dealing with whatever obstacle is stopping a faction from moving forward. Fallouts 1-4 and assorted spin offs have taught us all that.

Even in universe, Vault 76 is stated to be full of literal geniuses. It is packed with doctors and scientists and engineers: exactly the people the world needed to deal with a combination of plague and environmental crisis.

If you were there, you could have fixed this.

But you were not there. You were sitting comfortably in a vault, while other, better people tried to save the world.

And they were almost there. They had a vaccine. Even with everything, they had a vaccine. They did the work, they had a plan. As you play through this quest, you stand upon the shoulders of giants at almost every stage, implementing the very last step in a plan that really does work. Had they lived, even a few months longer ... but they didn't, and you did nothing to help them.

It wasn't even necessary to spend 25 years in that vault, as it is abundantly clear that the area around 76 has been habitable this whole time. Challenging, sure: I am in no way suggesting that it was an easy existence. But it was not instant irradiated death.

Every other Fallout protagonist steps out of their vault (or other entry scenario) in time to make things right. Maybe just in time, but nevertheless. They walk into a fractured world and get to work. But not you. You took the easy route.

How proud are you of that Best Dental Hygiene award now?

Given that it is set so close to the Great War, and deals with first generation survivors, it gives one of the best looks at the cynical cruelty of Vault-Tec: when they talk about rebuilding the world, it only means rebuilding for its own benefit and profit. Anyone not part of their plan is more than welcome to die in a hole.

It ties in very nicely with the television series, actually. Lucy laments that she was waiting to rebuild the world, but it all happened without her - and Vault-Tec actively tried to destroy that new world (and at least up to a point, seems to have succeeded). Her people waited over 200 years, but it didn't take that long. Twenty-five were quite enough.

But with the new version ... I mean, it really takes the sting out of it. It looks like everybody had a few rough years there, but it's all turned out fine. There's a burgeoning civilisation here, with homesteads and caravans and trade. I can't go two steps without an NPC asking to borrow a bobby pin, and even the raiders are more territorial than outright destructive (although – is nobody going to go up that completely safe little hill and give poor Miguel a funeral? Come on guys, clean up the damn corpses).

The tragedy of the whole thing, and the weight of your own inaction, is largely gone. You can't reshape the world and still make the same impact with that narrative.

I don't know, I guess I just can't quite get behind the whole multiplayer-ness of the thing. The world can't really change as you complete quests. You can't really rebuild. But likewise, if the world does change, it has to change for everyone at the same time, regardless of where they are in the story.

It could still work, I think, if you could play through that story and then see the caravans come over the hill, and start to rebuild the world.

Because that might feel a bit like redemption.

#fallout #fallout 76 #fallout tv series #fallout tv spoilers

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