#i have other places to vent this is just the most convenient so i use it the most lol

[periprose]

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spider verse #spider man #spiderman #atsv #atsv x reader #hobie x reader #hobart brown #spider man x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spider verse spoilers #x reader #reader insert #female reader #hobie x you #spiderpunk fluff #spider punk fluff

[sky-berrie]

Heartbreak - the batboys

Summary: How the boys (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) react (platonic) when you're broken hearted.

A/N: If you're going through heartbreak over a breakup or rejection I'm so sorry that you're hurting right now. I wish I could take your pain away. Although we don’t know each other, I can say with 100% certainty that you have so much to offer, way too much to waste it on someone who can’t/won’t appreciate you.

If you’re suffering right now, please don't give up. You got through yesterday which means you can do it again today. People often say that every day will get easier, but I know that it doesn't always feel like it; there may be good days and bad days and that's okay. Use that as a reminder that feelings, even negative feelings, don't last forever. But on the bad days, please stay strong. You've worked so hard to heal, don't let it go in vain. Progress may be slow and imperceptible from day to day, but progress is progress and I am proud of you.

You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. You deserve someone who will treat you the way you want to be treated. You deserve better and there is much better out there. If you need to hear it from someone else, take it from our BatBoys. Without further ado, here is how the boys react when you’re going through heartbreak.

Dick

If you’re hurting, Dick is hurting. He’ll do anything to help you feel better. He’ll ask you what you need from him, whether that’s someone to talk to or someone to sit in silence with, someone to wallow and eat junk food with, or someone to hit the gym with.

If you want to talk, he’s a great listener. He's patient and lets you vent and circle around and around as many times as you need, but he never lets you put yourself down. He’ll gently challenge your self-deprecating thoughts.

“Why am I not good enough?”

“Y/N,” he says firmly as he turns your shoulders to face him and leans down to connect with your eyes. “You are more than good enough.”

“Then why don't they want me?” you ask as tears pool in your eyes.

Dick shakes his head. His brows knit together in sorrow. “I don't know and we'll never know. Maybe they're going through something difficult that has nothing to do with you. Maybe they're confused. Maybe they're hung up on their ex. Maybe they think you’re too good for them and they got scared. Maybe they're looking for something different at this point in their life. There are so many possibilities but none of them matter because whatever is going through their head doesn't change anything about who you are. You are still the same amazing person that you have always been.”

"If I was so amazing then they would want me."

Dick shakes his head again. "That's like expecting every person in the world to love the same book, movie, song, food, you name it. Who's that comic book character that you're obsessed with? You're always raving about your hot take on why they're the best and how everyone's sleeping on them. Most people don't see their appeal but that doesn't make you love them any less, does it?"

Dick has a point. It's only a select group of people who share your adoration for your favorite character and that has never bothered you. In fact, that makes the character even more special to you.

If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, too. If you'd rather consume an unreasonable amount of junk food, then Dick will clear out the local convenience store and be at your place in five minutes. He won't let you make it a habit because he cares about your health, but sometimes you just need a day to drown your sorrows in sugar.

You’re both in your comfiest clothes sitting on the couch under a fluffy blanket, even if it's 100 degrees outside. You'll just turn on the AC so you can be cozy and snug. You lean against him with your head resting on his shoulder as you eat your favorite snack in dejection. If you want physical comfort, then he'll put an arm around you and hold you close until you've eaten yourself into a sugar coma and fall asleep on him.

Dick worries about you and can't bear the thought of you suffering alone. If you laugh together, you cry together. He will be by your side as much as possible unless you genuinely want/need alone time. Eventually you might start to feel like a burden for taking up his time and disrupting his life, but don't bother pretending to be fine just so he'll stop worrying about you.

You put on your best smile, though you feel it faltering. You hope Dick doesn't notice. "I think I'm good now," you tell him. "That was the last of the tears."

Dick doesn't say anything. He just eyes you, a mixture of concern and contemplation on his face as he evaluates the veracity of your statement.

You try to hold it together just a little longer, but you crack and break down in tears again. Dick pulls you in for another hug. "I'm sorry," you mumble against his chest.

"What for?"

"For being so annoying. You must feel like my babysitter."

"You are not annoying, Y/N. You know I love hanging out with you and I know you'd do the same for me, so please, don't be a hypocrite and just let me be here for you."

Jason

Jason is best at supporting you through the anger stage of your grief. In fact, he will perpetually be in the anger stage on your behalf. If you were cheated on, you best believe that Jason will pay said slimy cheater a special visit. He won’t ever tell you about it because you’re probably going to object, but when your friend tells you that your ex was randomly beaten up the day following your break up, you can make an educated guess as to what happened. Jason knows you don’t approve of violence or revenge but it helps him sleep at night. He hates seeing you cry and if you’re crying, he’s damn well going to make sure they’re crying too.

If you’re ready to talk shit about your ex, Jason is your boy. He has a slew of creative insults to call the person who broke your heart and this man does not hold back. “Y/N, you are way too good for that assmonkey bitchface douchebag. They were lucky you even gave them the fucking time of day. Seriously, you are so fucking far out of their league."

If that weasel has the audacity to beg you to take them back? Over Jason's dead body. You are not wasting a second more on that asshole and Jason will make sure of that. If they call or text, he will not hesitate to colorfully tell them off. If they are brave (read: stupid) enough to show up at your place and unlucky enough that Jason happens to be there, Jason is absolutely going to go berserk on them.

Even if your ex didn't cheat on you, Jason won't want you to take them back. He refuses to let you be someone's convenient option. Jason wants you to be with someone who values you so much that the thought of letting you go never crosses their mind.

If you start missing that person and wanting to contact them, Jason will give you some tough love. He will physically stop you by confiscating your phone or having Tim rig it so that it can't call/text or receive from that number.

“Fuck them, Y/N. They’re trash and you dodged a bullet. Don’t tempt fate now.”

You might be craving the feeling of being wanted and chased and you probably have all sorts of wild fantasies of you and your ex rekindling the relationship. It clouds your judgement and makes you forget about all their many negative qualities.

"But maybe they've changed. What if they really love me and I'm reading it all wrong? What if I'm throwing away something special?" you object.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind? First of all, they're a moron who took you for granted. Unfortunately being moronic is an incurable and terminal illness so it's all downhill from here. Second of all, there's a thousand more just like them. If you really want to waste your time on a jackass, at least pick a new one."

Your head says Jason's right but your heart says otherwise and it's written all over your face.

"Y/N," says Jason, a little softer now. He stands directly in front of you with a serious expression. "I know you're going through hell but I've been there and back. I promise everything will be okay. Walk away with your head held high. Let go of them." Jason offers his hand for you to take. "I've got you."

And with his encouragement, you decide to move on. To help you get through this tough time, his go-to tactic is to distract you with all sorts of activities. It’s 3am and you’re feeling sad? Jason’s over at your place in a heartbeat and you’re going for a drive to get your favorite comfort food in your pajamas. You want Jason to get all dressed up and take you to a gala? Under normal circumstances, he'd rather die again. However, Jason will gladly do that if it means you aren't talking to your ex.

Tim

When you're heartbroken, people invariably tell you don't be sad because everything happens for a reason, be glad that you didn’t waste even more time on them, forget about them and find someone who cares about you. Gee, what splendid ideas; why didn't you think of those before? You know they mean well, but feelings don't go away just because you think they should. As a result, you might act optimistic and upbeat around others to spare yourself the well intended lecture.

However, keeping up the facade gets exhausting. Being social or being around high energy people can become an emotional drain. Sometimes you might want to avoid the entire world, save for Tim. It’s easy to be vulnerable with him because he doesn’t tell you how you should feel. Of course, he doesn't want you to be upset, but he understands that you need to grieve and it's okay to feel sad. Similar to how some people can sit in comfortable silence, Tim can sit in comfortable sadness.

"Did you want to do something today?" asks Tim from the driver's seat.

You shake your head wordlessly. You barely had the energy to leave your home today. Anything else would be too difficult.

"That's fine. We can chill at the manor," he says without judgement. He doesn't make you feel bad for wanting to be a hermit and he doesn't try to force you to get back out there before you're ready.

You follow Tim up to his room and you plop down on his bed. If you want some comfy clothes, Tim will toss you something from his drawers or he’ll grab some of his brothers' or sisters' old clothes.

Tim pulls back the covers for you to crawl under. He tucks you in like a child and kisses your forehead affectionately. It makes you feel loved and for a fleeting moment, the pain is gone.

If you want company, Tim will jump in on the other side and you’ll both be idly scrolling on your phones for a while. However, if you're on your phone, there's a good chance that you'll see something that reminds you of the person who broke your heart. If you don't want to talk about it, Tim won't pry. He'll open his arms in case you want a warm safe place to rest. He might rub soft circles on your back if you don’t mind.

If you do want to talk about it, Tim offers a different perspective. Maybe you're plagued by a million "if only" and "what if" scenarios. Maybe you're stuck on things you did or didn't do.

"I screwed everything up. What if that was my once chance at happiness? I wish I could go back in time and do it differently."

Some people like to focus on the positives. "On the bright side, now you have more time for your hobby." Or, "at least you'll save money on expensive dates and gifts."

They might gravitate to the old cliches, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," and "there are plenty of fish in the sea." Unfortunately, none of that makes the pain any more bearable.

Instead, Tim focuses on the negatives. He recognizes that you're always going to find something to dwell on but you can use that to your advantage.

“You are the king/queen/champion of pessimism, Y/N. Even if you did exactly what you think you wish you had done, I have full confidence in your pessimistic powers that you would still find something to regret.”

Maybe something about that resonates with you. Maybe you've always struggled with indecisiveness because you're afraid to make the wrong choice. Maybe you've always felt like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't, so picking one seemed impossible. Now you realize if you're damned either way, then there's nothing to worry about.

“You did exactly what you needed to do at the time,” he assures you. "You are exactly where you need to be right now."

Even though you're understandably still sad, something in your heart tells you he's right. Being here with Tim is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Damian

Damian isn't particularly adept at providing physical or emotional comfort. It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that it’s hard for him to empathize. He sincerely wants to be helpful and tries his best but he can be unintentionally blunt and may come across as insensitive sometimes.

“Why do you want to be with someone who does not want to be with you?” he asks. Ouch. That stings. Did he have to phrase it like that?

“I don’t,” you answer, almost defensively.

“Then for what reason are you sad?”

“Because they don’t want me.”

“But you do not want them either,” he points out, not understanding the issue.

“Yeah, I know. It just hurts, okay?” you bite, irritation creeping into your voice.

"I am sorry you are upset but I am not sorry they broke up with you, Y/N."

You're stunned into silence. How could be he so cruel? To kick you when you were already down?

Then he continues. "You are genuine, thoughtful, generous, strong, and brilliant. You are a once in a lifetime soul. And them? They were nothing but a lowly simpleton who lacked the capacity to offer you the rich and meaningful life you deserve. They were foolish to let you go - likely too foolish to ever comprehend what they have lost - but I am relieved that you will not be condemned to an unfulfilling life with such a halfwit. They were merely an albatross around your neck, preventing you from achieving and experiencing far superior things in life."

That might have been the kindest thing he’s ever expressed to you or anyone else. Given how much pain you are going through, it’s probably hard to believe him right now, but you have to admit that he made you feel at least fractionally better.

“Come now, Y/N,” Damian says, tugging on your hand. “Let’s go play with Titus.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch with Titus in between. Titus is keen and quickly picks up on your emotions. He cuddles and nuzzles into your side as you gently stroke his fur. The warmth of his body grounds you and brings you some peace.

If you need a change of scenery, you and Damian take Titus for a walk. During your walk, you might come across something that reminds you of your ex. Maybe you see a cafe that you used to go to with that person. Your eyes linger on the storefront longingly and your whole body deflates at the reminder.

Damian notices your shift in body language. “What is the matter, Y/N?” Damian asks.

You sigh. “Nothing, I just - Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“I will be the judge of that,” he says, a little teasingly. “Tell me,” he demands.

You take a deep breath. “That was my favorite cafe. I introduced them to it and now it's their favorite place, too. I can't go there without thinking of them or worrying that I'll run into them."

"For once you are right. That is stupid."

"Thanks, Damian," you mutter sarcastically.

"Shall we?" He cocks his head at the cafe.

"Shall we what?" you ask in confusion.

"Go in."

You stare blankly at him. Did he not hear what you just said?

Damian explains, "you can introduce me to this cafe and then you can think of me whenever you come across it. Look, they even have a Puppuccino for Titus."

You give him a hesitant expression.

"Come," Damian encourages. He doesn't want your ex to have any bearing on your life anymore. He wants you to reclaim the things you enjoy. "Even Titus is excited to try it." Titus takes his cue and barks enthusiastically.

You take a deep breath and bravely follow them inside. You look around nervously as Damian peruses the menu hanging above the coffee bar. If Damian can sense that you are uneasy, he doesn't acknowledge it. He casually asks you what you recommend as if this coffee run was as mundane as any other coffee run. His calm demeanor eases your nerves and you start to feel more comfortable. You realize that it wasn't nearly as tough as your brain anticipated. Day by day you make new happy memories with Damian and Titus. Little by little the happy memories outshine the sad memories.

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson imagine #Dick Grayson headcanon #Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson reader insert #Dick Grayson x y/n #Jason Todd #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd headcanon #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd reader insert #Jason Todd x y/n #Tim Drake #Tim Drake imagine #Tim Drake headcanon #Tim Drake x reader #Tim Drake reader insert #Tim Drake x y/n #Damian Wayne #damian wayne imagine #Damian Wayne headcanon #Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne reader insert #Damian Wayne x y/n #batboys #batboys imagine #batboys headcanon #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #Robinchicklets

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Dabi x reader with chronic pain

Tags/Warnings: chronic pain, slight angst with comfort, fluff, soft Dabi, established relationship

Author's note: Having a bad pain day and I was thinking about what Dabi would do seeing the one he loves in pain.

Word count: ~650

It’s kind of embarrassing, truthfully, how something so small can piss you off today. It’s not even a big deal, more like an insignificant annoyance in the grand scheme of things. Still, you find yourself groaning in agitation. All the minor inconveniences you experience every day just seem so overwhelming right now, with the constant background pain that seems to be ramping up as time passes on. 

“What’s got you in such a sour mood, Princess?” Dabi teases with his usual cocky smirk. You turn around to face him, finding him in the window of your bedroom. You’re a bit surprised to see him. Not that he doesn’t usually enter your home through the fire escape, but because you weren’t expecting him. Especially not on a day like this. 

Unlike most other times, where you either respond to his playful jabs with one of your own, or instead vent it all out with passionate ranting, your expression communicates a sort of exhaustion he’s not used to seeing on you. You don’t seem sluggish from a lack of sleep, rather, it’s as if you’re out of energy to deal with anything. You’re tired from the demands placed on you, your pain eating away at any mental energy you have left. His face falls upon realizing something is genuinely wrong. He knows he can be an ass sometimes, but seeing you look so despondant has him regretting his choice of words. 

“Sorry, I’m just… in a lot more pain that usual today,” you force out. The tone of your voice makes it clear just how much this is weighing on you. Putting up a cheerful facade is too much to bear. You’ve mention in passing how you have chronic pain. It always follows you, remaining as a cemented constant. You’ve made it a point to not bring it up much. Knowing what Dabi experienced just made you view your discomfort as something so miniscule, something not deserving of concern. So you’ve always tried to hide it. It’s worked in the past, and conveniently, he seems to be busy in the times that your pain ramps up. Today is the first times he’s really been around for days like this. “I don’t want to bum you out so if you wanna leave, I understand-”

“No,” he denies, cutting you off. He knows what its like, to be constantly haunted by life’s cruelty. The scars on his skin tell his story whenever he has the misfortune of seeing them, whereas your aches shouts your story. You both carry unavoidable mementos of pain. You’ve done more than you think in bearing his pain. You’ve listened to his recounts of his past, patched him up when he’s come home to you after a mission gone south, and unknowingly held onto him when his thoughts were darkest. He wants to return the favor, in any way he can. “I’m not going anywhere.” He climbs down from the spot on the widow sill and closes the window behind him. He kicks off his boots and lays on your bed, gesturing for you to lay with him by opening his arms. 

You sigh, before saying in a tired and stressed voice, “I can’t Dabi, I gotta clean and then-”

“I’ll take care of it later, c’mere,” he urges. You don’t have the energy to fight him, so you acquiesce. Not to mention, you’ve been dying to just lie in your bed. Dabi being in it is a added benefit you don’t want to pass up. You curl up to his side and rest your head upon his chest. “Where are you hurting?”

You point to the area. In a rare moment of softness from him, he gently traces over the aching part of your body. It’s not a cure for your pain by any means, but the gentle touches both give you something else to focus on and melts your frozen heart. “Thank you,” you meekly whisper and nuzzle closer against him.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. “Anything for you.”

#bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi drabble #dabi imagine #dabi x you #dabi fanfic #dabi #dabi hc #dabi hcs #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #dabi x reader fluff #dabi oneshot #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: this is our place (we make the rules)

Chapter 6 - Probably should read ch1 first

Gun has a new neighbour. Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Gun likes spicy food, as long as the heat isn’t overpowering.

Also hates cilantro. Detests it, loathes it. Which he told you to your face after you forgot about his first note and he handed the container back, food untouched.

Enjoys in particular any stews you prepare. Also thinks your tteokbokki is just right after adjusting the garlic.

All, apart from the cilantro incident, you have learnt from the tone of his little notes. 

If notes could even have a tone.

.

.

Gun is not surprised you read his messages.

He is, however, surprised that you take his comments on board. He knows what he is good at and is under no illusion that he has a perfect palate. Far from it.

Nevertheless, you adjust dishes to his taste until most of the meals and food there is little he can feedback.

This gesture he finds oddly touching.

.

.

He greets you with less reluctance. Exchanges more words.

When the doorbell chimes unexpectedly, Gun no longer fumes at having his time interrupted.

In his doorway, you with your container in hand, you both linger a little longer.

.

.

In the convenience store at the top of your street, while you’re on a snack run one night, you bump into your neighbour.

Gun cuts an imposing figure, tall and polished, in a tailored coat and with impeccable hair as he inspects the drinks in the fridge. He gives you a glance as you slink up next to him and point out a can.

“That one has just come out. It’s pretty good.”

“Hmm.” He’s not sure about it but grabs it anyway on your recommendation.

“Have a nice night, Gun!” you give him a wave, taking your bag of treats.

“You too.” 

And he’s surprised to find he actually means it.

.

.

You, a slave to your cravings, bump into him a few more times.

Sometimes just purchasing his cigarettes. Most of the time considering what to buy.

"I like this one," you tell him.

"This is my favourite."

"I never buy this one, I always finish the whole bag."

Gun takes your recommendation each time.

He is never disappointed.

.

.

Today you and Gun walk side by side and approach the building together.

You recognised him when you were both a street away and shouted his name; Gun stopping then patiently waiting for you.

Falling into step together, anecdotes from your day spills out. A way to decompress and vent before you settle in for the night. Gun half-listens, giving brief nods now and then when you pause for a beat too long or a little hum of agreement as you look for a reaction.

“I was thinking fried chicken tonight?” you shake your grocery bag at him as you unlock your front door.

“Fried chicken?” Gun mirrors your action in front of his own.

“Yeah. For us.” You give him a frown as if he’s being purposefully obtuse. “Give me an hour or two!” you call out, leaving Gun standing there alone.

Us? Gun has never had an ‘us’. Not in this sense.

“This one,” you nod at the plate in your left hand, “is just dry herb seasoning. You know, the one I mixed with the rice the other week that you liked. And this,” nodding at your right, “is spicy garlic.” 

You pause, squinting at him, “Before you say anything, it’s balanced. I tasted it so it’s how you should like it.”

Gun takes the plates without a word as you wipe your hands on your apron.

“I haven’t had any yet, I wanted to give it to you fresh,” You brush your fringe back, happy to get out the kitchen, and tuck your hair behind your ears, “ My containers would make it soggy-”

Gun watches your hand movement but some errant strands still hang loose around your face. He wants to correct it for you.

“Fried chicken is best with beer,” he comments, silencing his buzzing brain and brushing aside that thought, “We can share.”

There’s no meaning to this, Gun thinks to himself as you scamper home to grab your own portion before joining him.

It’s just two neighbours sharing chicken and beer. Something that normal people do, sharing a meal.

But when has Gun even cared about being normal.

.

.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Gun places the plates on the table and notices you hovering and hunched in a corner.

“Can I have this?” In your outstretched hands, gripped with gentle fingers is the dying plant, the joke of a gift from Goo.

“Go ahead.”

“I can nurse it back to health and return it!”

“I don’t care. You can let it die.”

“Gun!”

.

.

As he watches you eat that evening with poor etiquette and shocking table manners, now and then giving affectionate glances to the plant by your side; laughing loudly and matching him drink for drink- 

Gun is more curious about you than ever. He finds you captivating.

.

.

“It’s an impressive feat how you manage to make so much noise,” comes Gun’s drawl.

He watches you move what must be a very heavy package with the worst form he has ever seen. Lifting with your back, spine curved, staggering a few paces forward until you stop, take a break, then repeat it all over again.

You’re cluttering up the shared communal hallway, and frankly spoiling his peaceful afternoon with all your banging out here.

The walls are supposed to be soundproof. But even the meticulous engineers of Gangnam’s most expensive apartment block didn’t account for a menace such as you.  

“Furniture arrived,” wiping the sheen from your brow and catching your breath. “Flatpack… courier only delivered to here.”

“It’s been months.”

“I would have done it sooner if I haven’t been busy cooking and feeding someone,” you snap. Then completely changing tact, face saccharine and sweet, batting your eyelashes, “Please help?”

This absolutely does not work on Gun.

He helps you anyway.

Well. 

That extends to moving your boxes into the spot you desire, lifting them as if they weighed nothing and then laying them down wherever your finger points to.

He does very little else to help, instead watching you struggle with the instructions, his toolbox sat next to you, and choosing to survey your home.

It’s surprisingly empty. 

Not in the way that his own is purposefully that way. More like someone not yet making a space their own, not really sure if they’re here to stay.

The only cluttered area is the kitchen. Well-used with utensils and spices and ingredients arranged for function rather than style. Where you prepare your meals for him.

Something catches Gun’s attention and he moves closer.

The plant. 

Not in the best sunspot, but instead somewhere a little more shaded.

Already livelier. A little less droopy. 

His fingers run along a long thin leaf.

No longer frail and fragile. He can feel the strength returning.

“Gun junior is getting better!”

Human Gun turns and catches your bright grin. Not smug, just genuinely happy with your green thumb.

He gets the strange urge to tuck your hair behind your ears again.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism fanfic #lookism fics #gun park #park jonggun #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[itsclydebitches]

clyde help, apparently the 'don't come back' scene from winter was supposed to be directed at RWBYJ telling them not to come back because the people they 'sacrificed their lives to save' were turning on each other and 'wasting that opportunity' so she doesn't want them to see how the people they saved were failing them and somehow that's even more dumb than when i thought it was supposed to be directed at ironwood 😭😭😭

https://twitter.com/dontyoudarryn/status/1677868440437104640

I saw the tweet (a day after I’d written up my thoughts on it being about Ironwood ofc lol) and god, idek what to do with this. On the one hand yay, I’m legitimately glad they didn’t include Ironwood just so Winter could desecrate his portion of the grave like that, with the added implication that he might come back in Volume 10. It’s a good thing the epilogue hasn’t opened that can of worms. On the other hand... literally what the fuck, Winter? That’s SUCH a crazy thing to do! I get that she’s disappointed in how people are treating one another after getting a second chance at life—even though there’s a boatload of context there like, “It’s the heroes who put them in this position in the first place” and “That position is being indefinite refugees at the end of the world. Of COURSE people are stressed and fighting each other”—but who expresses their frustration like that? At least, I always want to clarify, without the story itself calling her out on it. That’s a memorial to the fallen! Unless there are a number of different graves that we’re just not shown (doesn’t look that way) Winter is using her super special protect-the-world powers to desecrate a communal grave. She’s not even doing that out of hatred for her abusive father, or the turned-villain former boss she helped kill... she’s saying “Don’t come back” to her sister.

“But Clyde, she means it in a nice way because there’s nothing good to return to—” no. Stop. It’s just straight up weird and insulting. This message implies that Winter straight up cannot understand human nature and the peoples’ need to acclimate to their new circumstances, especially when they're still in grave danger (she wouldn’t last five minutes with Ozpin’s quest lol). It implies that she cares more about her reputation as a successful hero than her sister and her sister’s friends’ lives. If given the choice, her message is saying, “Better that you be dead than see that things aren’t perfect”—and isn’t that just a summary of everything post-Volume 5. The message implies that Winter cares more about her own selfish need to vent in a permanent, insulting way than being respectful of the, again, implied to be communal memorial.

Imagine for a moment that irl someone’s sibling died in battle, a battle that didn’t decide the war. Mere minutes after the community established a grave for everyone that died, they take a chisel to it and write “Don’t come back,” then try to play that off as a good, loving thing to do because don't you see? They'd be ashamed of us as we imperfectly struggle to survive! It's better for our loved ones to stay dead than see us lash out at one another during the most stressful moment in Remnant history!

If RWBY has any sort of self-awareness the group would arrive in Vacuo, see that message, very understandably assume it was written by an angry civilian, and Winter would be all “Uh....😬" If RWBY were even slightly better written, that message would have been put there by an angry civilian, rather than all these supposedly fallible people treating Ruby like a messiah. After all, it’s very convenient that Winter is so disgusted with their behavior she does this, but their behavior, of course, doesn’t extend to questioning whether the teenager who dropped them here after terrifying the world with a vague, manipulative message did a good job. The refugees are so ashamedly angry... but none of that anger is directed toward the huntresses that dropped them in the middle of a grimm sandstorm outside a Kingdom that hates them. So Ruby has a "Remember her message" memorial created by ignorant strangers and Weiss has her memorial desecrated by her in-the-loop sister. RWBY... you've got it backwards again...

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[l3m0ncyan]

New at Life | Chapter 2

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina!teen!reader

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

———————

The sun poured through the window of the studio, easily waking Y/N up from her sleep. Her sleep schedule was terrible, usually she would find herself waking up in the after noon, but not today. Still, she struggled to get up until the alarm she set last night began to go off a second after.

As she sat up from the couch, she could feel the bones in her body pop. A groan escaped from within her throat while she continued to sit on the brown sofa. It seemed like it wasn’t going to be the best place to sleep, making it her goal to get a mattress as fast as possible.

Squinting at the window, her eyes were blinded from the bright light of the morning. God, did she miss her old room, but there was no point to sit and wallow. Standing up, she made a mental note to buy curtains as well.

Y/N proceeded to begin her day, cooking a small breakfast meal with the groceries she bought from yesterday and then heading to the shower to wash off the grogginess still left in her. Now she found herself rummaging though her luggage, throwing articles of clothing out to make things easier for her, “I swear I packed it,”

With her hair still dripping from the shower, the collar of her t-shirt began to get damp. She rushed herself, trying to save herself from ending up with a wet shirt. After rummaging, she finally found what she needed and held it up, letting out an ‘Ah-hah!’.

It was a cotton, long sleeve, burgundy button down, one that she found in a thrift store. Actually, most of the outfit that she’ll be wearing were thrifted. She put on the long sleeve, tucking it into her clack slacks after buttoning. Since she didn’t have any professional looking shoes, she went with black boots. Her hair was a disaster trying to be held together; she had no idea how to style it without looking like a suburban middle-aged woman, so she just brushed it out and added volume.

She walked up to the mirror, turned, twisted, and even performed a small dance to see if she would be comfortable. "That's all they're going to get from me," she slouched. She grabbed her bag from the wooden dining table, plus the 6 copies of her resume that she printed out yesterday. Locking her door, her feet automatically walked her to the elevator and out to society.

——

Usually she would have just applied online, but she really needed a place to work. Additionally, she heard you get a higher chance of getting hired if you asked upfront. Making the mall a goldmine, she walked to one perfume shop that had a ‘Hiring’ sign at the front. Again, she believed it would be easy until she located the manager and asked about the position, only to be met with the manager’s scowl and a rude, “The spot has been filled,”. Lord, did she feel so much rage from that encounter. With a quick mutter of “Fuck you too”, she walked off, she didn’t need to worry about it, she was barely starting, and she still had a long way to go. – After hours, Y/N had no luck with any of the five other places she went to. She even went to some other places of business on her way out but nothing. The sun was starting its first phase of setting and she was just sitting on a bench with her elbows on her knees and hands holding the bottom of her chin. She wasn’t alone though, next to her was a man in gold clothing while he was painted gold himself. He had a gold suit that reflected in the sun, almost blinding Y/N. He was motionless, only holding a simple pose. It seemed almost humiliating to do, but Y/N found herself able to pour out all of her frustrations.

“I dressed the part, printed my damn resume, and you’re telling me none of them wanted me?” she vented, her voice laced with exasperation. “Like they ask for experience when they are the reasons some of us can’t get any. They think they are so superior, like yeah right. Working at a convenience store and sex shop makes you so elite,” she muttered between bites of her hotdog, staring at the people passing by with envy.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N's contemplation was interrupted when two girls approached her, requesting a favor. She sat up and rose from the bench, "Oh, sure," she responded, taking the phone from them. Motioning the girls to stand by the golden man, she instructed them to say something cheesy like "golden." They complied, and once she returned their phone, they thanked her and began to walk away. But Y/N couldn't let them leave without reminding them of one thing. “Oye! You guys forgot to tip him!” she called out, pointing at the golden hat on the floor.

"No se hagan culeras," she added. *Don’t be assholes

Wide-eyed, the girls hurriedly contributed to the hat before scurrying away. Y/N scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Maybe you should hire me as your manager or something," she mused, before continuing to take a bit of her hotdog.

Grabbing her hotdog again, she continued to eat before a flyer landed on her foot. Her chewing stopped as she looked down and picked it up. It had Egyptian hieroglyphics in the background, and a sarcophagus in the front, with the words 'NOW HIRING' in large white letters.

Her eyes widened, pushing the flyer to the gold man’s view, she exclaimed, “It has to be a sign right? Does it have an address?”. She looked closer and it did with the qualifications. It seemed like they were hiring right away. Checking the time on her phone, she had enough time to go check it out before retreating.

She stands up to leave, opening her wallet and taking out two pounds, placing them into the tip hat. “Once I am working, I will come back with more,” she smiled before she dashed away to the Ancient Egypt Museum.

As she approaches the museum, banners flutter in the breeze, displaying some of the exhibits. Aside from that, the museum is a pale white being held with white columns, almost a resemblance to the hall where the statue of Abraham Lincoln is located. Large stairs lead to the front doors of the museum which scare Y/N due how her energy has depleted.

As she fights the journey up the stairs and takes a quick break to catch her breath, she walks in to see numerous exhibits. Glass-encased statues and tombs, Egyptian art, and a small gift shop. She can't remember the last time she visited a museum, but she remembers being interested in the topic thanks to her grandfather who would go on and on about history and archeaology, Ancient Egypt being one.

Since the flyer offered a job position in the gift shop, she heads straight there. However once she gets close, she sees a familiar neighbor at the register.

Steven waved goodbye to a boy he had been speaking to, "Take care of Tawaret, alright?" As he resumed organizing the items that had been knocked over, the corner of his eye caught sight of Y/N standing in an awkward stance. Intrigued, he paused his task and greeted her with a warm smile. "Well, if it isn't my dear neighbor, Y/N."

Y/N approached him, her voice laced with a playful tone. "And if it isn't my locksmith," she replied, her steps bringing her closer.

Continuing his task, Steven maintained a light-hearted demeanor. "Indeed, that's what I am. So, what brings you here today? Are you a fan of Egyptian history?"

"I mean it’s cool, but i’m actually here because of a flyer,” Y/N shrugged casually, fishing out a flyer from her pocket and handing it to Steven. He brings it close but then moves it back when he tries to read it, something that Y/N has seen her parents do. "You want to work here?" he asked, squinting at the words on the flyer.

"Yeah, if it’s cool, so far no one has tried to give me an interview or even a handshake," she says, leaning against the front desk of the gift shop, looking down as she is reminded of the rude managers from earlier.

Steven looks at her with pity but gives her an encouraging smile, "Of course, it's alright. Tell you what, why don't I put in a good word for you here?"

Puzzled by the unexpected offer, Y/N tilted her head slightly. "Why?" she inquired.

"Well, it might just speed up the process for you and help you land a job here," Steven explained, his eyes reflecting a genuine desire to assist.

"I mean, I get that, but why are you going out of your way to help me? We've only known each other for less than an hour," she stated, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and skepticism.

It was true, if she was in his position, she wouldn’t bother to help her neighbor. Let alone interact with them.

"True, I suppose," he mused, "but it doesn't feel right to withhold a helping hand. At least, that's my take on it." Y/N's gaze remained fixed on him as he offered a smile. Having the skill of a people watcher, she was able to tell if someone exuded goodness and those who were terrible. And in this case, he had gold splashed on him with how he radiated warmth and kindness.

"Not to mention," he added with a shrug, "it would be nice to have someone else working the shop with me."

She nodded in understanding, grasping his situation. "Well, if you're open to it, then sure—"

"Stephen! "The sharp voice sliced through their conversation, causing both Y/N and Steven to jump. Y/N turned to her left, finding the source– a woman with bleached blonde hair and eyes that were capable of making children cry.

Once the woman approached them, she crossed her arms and locked her gaze onto Steven, completely disregarding Y/N's presence. "Are you selling to our customers or babbling on about nonsense?" she spat.

Steven’s demeanor seemed to delfate with the way his cheerful character became gloomy. His shoulders slumped, the twinkle in his eyes extinguished, leaving behind an almost stoic expression. "It's Steven, once again, Steven," he emphasized, tapping his name tag for emphasis.

"I don't bloody care. If you're not pulling your weight, your role in the gift shop will be taken away," she declared, waving her finger at him as if scolding a child.

While the woman continued to bicker Steven, Y/N took the chance to sneak a glance at her name tag, revealing the name 'Donna.' It seemed to match her demeanor perfectly.

"Understood," Steven replied, but then turned to face Y/N. "However, I was actually talking to my…" He paused, his lips thinning as he formulated an answer. "…cousin. She's interested in applying for the position of gift shop associate. I highly recommend her," he stated, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N's shoulder.

Y/N tensed at the sudden spotlight being cast upon her in their conversation. Donna's scowl mirrored the other managers that Y/N has encountered. It must be a cultural norm in England.

Glancing up at Steven, he subtly directed his gaze towards Donna. "Oh, um, nice to meet you. My name is Y/N," she greeted with a smile, extending her hand. Surprisingly, Donna accepted the handshake, though her expression remained one of confusion.

"Your cousin, huh? How can I be certain you won't disappoint me?" Her gaze shifted to Steven, one eyebrow raised in doubt.

"I assure you, she would never deceive you. She's a dedicated worker, always eager to learn and grow," he said as he looked at Y/N, almost as if he was referring to yesterday when they were both learning new phrases.

Seeing that Steven was the only one trying to make her shine, she got rid of her daydreaming and spoke up, “Yes! I thrive on being busy and I almost never complain. Plus I learn real quick if you teach me,”

Donna's suspicious gaze intensified as she questioned Y/N's American accent. A sense of urgency washed over Steven as he realized the glaring inconsistency. He looked over to Y/N who seemed to be piecing together a story in her mind.

"Well, I actually grew up in the United States," she confidently stated, ensuring that her words sounded truthful. She just hopes that Donna won’t ask about the family tree. She swiftly changed the subject to the interview, “Over there, I learned to multitask and the importance of respecting my superiors." This however, was a lie; first of all she didn’t believe in the phrase “respect your elders” and secondly she never worked a day in her life. But it seemed like lying is what will help her if she really wanted work there.

Donna's gaze lingered on her, as if scrutinizing every word she said. After a pause, Donna relented, her tone laced with resignation. "Alright, fine. Consider yourself hired. It's only because this one," she gestured towards Steven, "has been giving me a headache." Steven arched an eyebrow at the insult but accepted it to stay away from arguing, and potentially losing his name tag.

"You begin today and then–" Donna started to explain before she was abruptly interrupted.

"Wait, today?" Y/N's voice held a hint of surprise.

Donna responded with an aggressive and rude tone, making it clear that she had little patience, "Yes, today. Is that going to be a problem?".

Shaking her head in response, Y/N chose not to engage in further confrontation. Donna then turned her attention to Steven, delivering a cutting remark, “You will train her today, I expect her to be far better than you". With that, Donna walked away.

"My first job and my boss is a complete bi–" Y/N began to vent her frustrations, but before she could finish her sentence, Steven interjected, "I know she's an absolute tosser, but trust me, you'll get used to it," he said with a reassuring smile.

Y/N nodded in agreement. There was a pause before Steven realized his new task and exclaimed, "Oh right! As it turns out, I will be your mentor, for which I am grateful". He made a small bow with his palm on his chest which Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at his action.

For the rest of the day, Steven spent it by teaching Y/N the basics of working in a gift shop. He started by familiarizing her where each product belonged and taking inventory. As they moved on to the cashier duties, Y/N couldn't help but feel a nervous flutter in her stomach. However, Steven's presence by her side made her nerves flatten thanks to Steven being by her side, giving her a thumbs up. Even after making countless mistakes, Steven never raising his voice or belittling her efforts.

"I believe that's all the time we have for today. Tomorrow, I'll show you the stock room and all that buzz," Steven announced, beginning to tidy up as the museum visitors started to depart. With a nod of understanding, Y/N followed closely behind him as they headed toward the locker room.

Inside the locker and break room, a few people gathered their belongings , ready to leave. The lockers, arranged in a row toward the back, were rather small. On the opposite side, there were two tables accompanied by a handful of chairs, positioned next to cupboards and counters. A microwave sat on the counter, while a whiteboard displayed the day's assigned duties on a white fridge.

"Well, here's the break and locker room. It's not the most extravagant, but it's better than nothing," Steven remarked, opening his locker to retrieve the familiar satchel Y/N had noticed earlier. He continued, "I'll give you the door code tomorrow."

Once Steven closed and locked his locker compartment, a sudden realization seemed to dawn upon him. His head shot up, causing Y/N to instinctively take a step back. "Have you had your lunch? Now that we're on the topic," he asked, concern evident in his voice. Though Y/N hesitated, not wanting to burden him with guilt, her silence confirmed it for Steven.

“Well," she began, her voice trailing off, "I ate earlier today." "Oh, bollocks! I was too caught up in training you that I completely forgot about the most basic needs," Steven exclaimed, running his hand from the top of his face down in frustration. Looking around, he pondered for a moment, searching for a solution. "Well, let's get you some dinner then. There's a place down the street that might still be open," he suggested, eager to go.

Her eyes widened, and she waved her hands dismissively. "No, no! It's alright. I bought groceries yesterday, so I'm pretty sure I have something to eat," Y/N assured him. Steven raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced. "No offense, but I'm sure the moment you get home, you're going to knock out in bed," he remarked knowingly.

He was right. Y/N was exhausted, and all she craved was a good night's sleep. She pursed her lips, contemplating whether to accept his offer. She didn't want him to spend more money on her, considering all he had already done. Letting out a sigh, she relented, "Alright, but let's go for something cheap.”

They both exited the museum and strolled along the street, heading towards a nearby bus stop. Steven came to a halt, but Y/N continued walking, oblivious to the fact that he wasn't following. With a quick call to get her attention, she turned around and hurriedly made her way back.

"We're taking the bus?" Y/N inquired a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Of course! If we go on foot, it'll probably be closed by the time we get there, and it would be past your bedtime," Steven replied with a playful smile.

She rolled her eyes, retorting, "I'm 18, you know that, right? Besides, I don't think I have any change for the bus fare." Y/N took out her wallet and opened it to confirm her lack of change. As expected, she was right.

However, Steven waved off her concern, insisting that he would cover the cost. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but it was difficult to do so earlier, so she nods. Plus she might give her legs a break from running around in the gift shop. —— The small restaurant had a handful of patrons, with white tiled floors and pale yellow walls. The rhythmic sounds of the grill and utensils filled the space behind the front desk where the kitchen was located. Y/N glanced up at the menu, feeling overwhelmed by the variety of noodles and drinks on display. Unsure of what to choose, she shifted back and forth, thinking of her options. Sensing her dilemma, Steven stepped in and recommended a few dishes, highlighting his personal favorite with tofu.

"If you're not a vegan like me, the Classic Thai is also popular," he shrugged, noting its meat content.

Nodding in acknowledgment, they approached the cashier to place their order. Steven took charge and ordered for both of them, and once it came to pay, he handed the cashier a bill. As the cashier reached out to receive it, Y/N's eyes caught sight of a tattoo on their arm.

"Hey, I like your tattoo," Y/N commented, flashing a smile.

The tattoo depicted a scale, intricately detailed with crocodile heads on either side. The cashier returned the smile and glanced down at their tattoo. "Thank you. It's a sign of a miracle," they shared.

Y/N nodded slowly, her brows furrowing slightly, “I see, it’s nice,”

Feeling a shiver crawl up her spine, Y/N glanced back up to find the cashier's gaze fixed on her, still wearing that eerie smile. Her eyes widened, feeling the hair behind her neck stand. The cashier's unwavering stare seemed to penetrate her very being. Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, until the jarring ring of a bell shattered the tension. The cashier finally averted her gaze, retrieving a bag with their drinks. Breathing a sigh of relief, Y/N couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of unease as they made their way towards the exit.

As they approached the door, a nagging thought tugged at Y/N's mind. Her instincts screamed at her to keep moving forward, but an unsettling curiosity lingered. She refrained from glancing back at the cashier, trying to leave fast. However, she thought she heard a "goodbye" reached her ears with the mention of her and Steven’s last names. —— On the bus once again, Steven and Y/N settled into their seats, with Steven cradling the bag of food on his lap and Y/N holding the drinks. With about ten minutes left before their next stop, Steven took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

"So, what's your take on London so far?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N, still mulling over the unsettling encounter at the restaurant, was caught off guard. She paused for a moment before responding, "Well, I've only been here for two days, but most of the people I've met were assholes, except for you, of course."

Steven chuckled, but quickly reprimanded her for her choice of words. "Oi, mind your language. But you're not wrong, not everyone here has been great."

Momentarily forgetting about their previous topic, Y/N smiled in confusion. "I didn't think you were so sensitive about cursing," she remarked, before correcting herself, “Nevermind, you do look like it,”

A hint of amusement danced in Steven's eyes as he raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to offend me? I just think someone your age shouldn’t have a vulgar vocabulary."

Y/N let out a scoff. "Well, you'd probably faint if you met the people I went to high school with."

Intrigued, Steven tilted his head and asked if she was currently attending college. Y/N nodded, and his face lit up with genuine excitement. "Congratulations! That's fantastic!" he exclaimed, offering his warm congratulations. Y/N returned the smile and expressed her gratitude for his enthusiastic response. Despite the ups and downs of the day, she couldn't help but appreciate Steven's positive attitude.

She mentions how she was accepted to a university near London, which is why she moved there in the first place which brings out more questions.

"Well, I'm not too familiar with the US, but aren't there universities closer to where you live? Why fly thousands of miles?" Steven inquired, genuinely curious.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, only providing a superficial answer. "Well, there are some nearby, but I just wanted to…," she trailed off, not delving deeper into her reasons, "Make my aunts and cousins jealous."

Steven nodded, sensing that there was more to her decision than mere family rivalry. However, he didn't pry further. Sensing the lull in the conversation, Y/N decided to change the subject.

"I think it's my turn to ask about you," she said, turning her attention to Steven.

"Alrighty, what do you want to know?" he replied, gesturing for her to unleash a barrage of questions.

She started by asking about his age, and he chuckled in response. "36," he revealed.

Y/N clicked her tongue playfully. "Dang, so I was close."

Amused, Steven raised an eyebrow and teased, "You were guessing my age? Taking offense, are we?"

"I said 40, but I guess you're younger than you look," Y/N shrugged nonchalantly. Steven dramatically placed his hand over his heart, pretending to be deeply wounded.

"Do I really look that old?" he asked, feigning shock. Y/N locked her gaze on him, tilting her head from different angles to see if she may have overestimated his age.

"Well, not anymore, but honestly, it might be true," she replied, sitting up straight. "Your aging is sped up because of Devah."

"You mean Donna?" Steven corrected her.

“Whatever," Y/N rolled her eyes dismissively. Steven couldn't help but laugh at her attitude towards their boss. He can’t blame her. Maybe he should have warned her about her before he tried helping her land the job.

—— "So, anything creepy ever happened here before I continue unpacking my apartment?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as they waited for the elevator doors to open on their floor.

Steven looked at her, slightly taken aback by the question. "Are you talking about paranormal weird or people weird?" he clarified.

“Both”

The building, for the most part, was relatively quiet. Occasionally, heated arguments between couples could be heard echoing through the halls. There was that one incident when the electricity went out for the entire complex, forcing everyone to open their windows until it was fixed. But overall, not much out of the ordinary. "Not really, just the occasional flickering lights, but this building is quite old. I wouldn't worry too much. Just be cautious around people in general," Steven reassured her.

Y/N nodded, but her mind wandered as she observed the mirrors inside the elevator, noticing how they were positioned to face each other. She remembered seeing how mirrors facing each other could be used to create a portal. The flickering lights suddenly took on a new meaning in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just faulty wiring.

Once they reached their floor, Steven unlocked his door but decided to wait and see if Y/N would be able to open hers this time. "Just nudge the key to the left, right?" she asked, seeking confirmation. He responded with a simple "mm-hmm." That's exactly what she did.

Left. One nudge. Two nudges. Three nudges. Four. And click!

The door swung open, and Y/N stood there in shock. "I did it," she muttered to herself, then turned to Steven, unable to contain her excitement. "I fucking did it!"

"You did it!" he exclaimed, sharing in her joy. They continued to celebrate, their voices echoing through the hallway, until a neighbor shouted at them to quiet down. "Will you two just shut it already?! People are trying to bloody sleep!" The sound of a slamming door silenced them.

"Pinche—" Y/N began, but immediately stopped when she heard Steven clearing his throat.

*Fucking–

"Sorry," she quickly apologized, raising her hand in acknowledgment. Steven gave a nod, accepting her apology, and bid her a simple "goodnight."

Y/N sat at the table and unpacked the takeout food. She examined it closely, revealing a dish of fried noodles topped with chicken. The aroma wafted up, enticing her senses. Unable to resist any longer, she eagerly took a bite, savoring the burst of flavors. Her eyes widened in delight, and she leaned back in her chair, fully appreciating the deliciousness of the meal. The thought of returning to the restaurant already crossed her mind.

———————————

Slowly trying to make Y/N talk to Steven more.

#marc spector #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector x teen!reader #moon knight #hispanic reader #marc spector x reader #platonic #steven grant x reader #latina reader

[purplefangirl42]

Fazed (Part 15)

Series Summary: With Anakin out of commission and Obi-Wan sent  elsewhere, the 501st needs a new General. Lena Orim has stepped up to  take Anakin's place and has rattled the 501st's usually stoic Captain  Rex. His feelings are not one-sided, which may lead to some questionable decisions.

Pairing: Captain Rex/Jedi! OC (Lena Orim)

Parts: Series Masterlist ~ PREVIOUS ~ NEXT ~

Part 15 Summary: Conversations and heart-to-hearts lead to both closure and pain.

Warnings/Tags: Dialogue Heavy, Mentions of cruel behavior, Misunderstandings, Slight Angst

A/N: Many thank yous to @silcoitus for beta reading for me!

Lena and Rex spent the following few hours talking about everything and nothing. She listened to him talk about the crazy antics that Anakin put him through and gave him tales in return of embarrassing stories from Anakin’s childhood. She told him of the time Blaze had tried to eat Keebo’s spicy cooking and nearly set his mouth on fire, which led him to share the story of how he and Cody had gotten stuck in an air vent as cadets. 

Knowing she didn’t have much more time to spend with him before they went their separate ways, Lena cherished each laugh as Rex remembered something funny and she found herself smiling every time he looked at her. It had been quite a while since she had felt this at ease, and she wanted to make it last.

“You keep telling me things about other people,” Rex said. “You haven’t said much about yourself.”

Lena thought over the conversation and realized that he was right. Most of her stories had been about Keebo, Anakin, Obi-Wan, or one of her men. She didn’t really know what to say about herself, not knowing what would be interesting for him to hear.

“The important things in my life have to do with the people I care about,” she said. “What could I say about myself that wouldn’t feel like I was filling out a survey?”

“How did you get the scar on your arm?” he asked.

“We’re back to talking about scars?” Lena said with an amused smile. “You don’t want to know what my favorite color is or something like that?”

Rex rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look.

“It’s blue by the way.”

“How convenient that I wear a lot of blue,” Rex said.

“Yes, very convenient.”

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments before Lena reached up and pulled at the loose neckline of her shirt. She pulled it down to expose her right bicep, where a dark line marred the pale skin.

“I assume this is the scar you’re talking about?” she asked. “You aren’t the only one that gets shot off of speeder bikes. I was on a mission a few months ago, and was riding on the back of a speeder when some droids knocked some rocks into our path. I was lifting the rocks so we could get through and one of the droids that was following us shot me in the arm, knocking me off the speeder. The rest of my group managed to escape, but I was blocked by the falling debris.”

Lena saw Rex wince at the mention of her flying off a moving speeder bike so she gave him an encouraging smile.

“While it did hurt a lot, I’ve been through worse. One of the members of the team I was working with managed to get me away safely and he even helped bandage my wound afterwards.”

As she told Rex what had happened, memories flooded Lena’s mind. Memories of wiry arms wrapped around her midsection; of warm, practiced fingers carefully tending to her arm; heavy, intense stares from a pair of eyes the exact color of the man across from her. Lena shook her head rapidly in an effort to clear the images from her mind and pulled her shirt back up, covering the scar.

“Everything alright?” Rex asked.

Lena gave him a small smile and reached out to take his hand. The warm, calloused skin felt good against her own. It was reassuring and real. She could count on him, she could trust him. Rex was more than an idea or a lingering possibility, he was here.

“Everything’s fine,” Lena said. “Just got a little lost in my own head for a moment there.”

“I have a question about what goes on with your head,” Rex said.

“Is it about my hair?” Lena said jokingly. “Because I have questions about yours.”

She heard Rex sigh, which she responded to with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry, Rex. What did you want to ask?”

Rex took Lena’s other hand in his, forcing her to face him directly as they sat opposite on the bed. His sudden seriousness concerned her, her grin fading from her face as she tilted her head curiously, awaiting his question.

“Last night, you said something about separating our feelings. You said that you would explain it later. I want to know what you meant, if you’re comfortable explaining it.”

A sense of relief flashing through Lena, a bit brief as it was pushed aside by the concern emanating from the man across from her. She could understand why he could possibly be worried about what she had said with no context.

“How much do you know about what Jedi sense through the force?” she asked. “About how we sense emotions and thoughts of those around us?”

“I know some, but for the sake of this conversation, pretend I don’t know much of anything.”

Lena took a deep breath as she contemplated the best way to explain this to him. It wasn’t usually a subject of conversation with people outside of the order. Usually she was speaking to those who had the ability to feel the world around them already and understood a fraction of what she felt. 

“Every living being is connected through the force, some more than others depending on how the force flows through them. Certain Jedi have special abilities that focus on certain aspects of the force. Some gain memories from items they touch, some have strong connections with animals and nature, and some can accomplish feats that no one has ever heard of before. I have an ability where I can feel the emotions of others as if they are my own without even trying.”

Lena could see a sense of understanding dawn on Rex’s face. She could feel some of the concern disappearing, which eased her mind.

“When I said I needed to separate our feelings, I meant that I needed to ensure that what I was feeling was truly coming from me and not just an extension of your feelings. It would have led to complications and hurt feelings if we acted on those feelings, only to discover that they were truly one-sided.”

“And you’re certain that they aren’t?” Rex asked hesitatingly. “They go both ways?”

Lena smiled and released one of his hands, raising it to cup his cheek.

“I’m certain.”

Rex let out a long sigh and Lena could both see and feel the relief in him. She wondered if he had been worried about that exact thing, that she had acted on his feelings alone. 

“I appreciate you asking, Rex. Never hesitate to ask. Feelings don’t always explain the meaning behind themselves, so if I don’t have the words to go along with them, I could assume the wrong thing.”

Rex nodded and reached up his hand to place it against hers, pulling it forward and placing a kiss on her palm. 

“I suppose the same goes for you. I definitely can’t read your mind, so you’ll have to tell me how you’re feeling.”

Lena laughed softly, pulling her hands out of his grasp and standing from the bed. She stretched her arms up over her head, feeling her spine pop from the movement. She grabbed the dishes and trash they had generated and began to clean up a bit. They still had a while before they would reach Coruscant, but she felt the need to do something.

“Not to put a damper on this pajama party,” she said. “But I’m getting dressed.”

Lena moved over to the drawers built into the wall of her quarters and started removing items, draping them over her arm as she went. She could feel Rex’s gaze on her as she gathered everything, watching her every move. When she had retrieved all her clothes, she walked back over to the bed and plopped the pile down. Rex looked at the pile with a raised brow.

“You wear a lot of clothes,” he said.

“Coming from the man that wears an entire set of armor most of the time?”

Rex shrugged, seemingly agreeing with her before he stood up from the bed as well and walked in the direction of the fresher. Lena stripped off her sleeping clothes before starting on her many layers. She had on only her undergarments when Rex returned, having retrieved the top half of the blacks she had given him. He gave her body an appreciative look, his eyes scanning her entire form.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she scolded. “I’m trying to put clothes on. I don’t need you undressing what little I have on with your eyes.”

Rex held up his hands defensively and sat back down on the edge of the bed to wait for her. Lena pulled on her thermal undershirt and long socks before pulling her pants on, tucking the shirt in. Her tunic, a long-sleeved light brown one, went on and was also tucked in. Her darker colored wrap was next, followed by the even darker overdress. Her belt was the last thing added, and she didn’t feel her wrist bracers were necessary at this time.

“I don’t understand how you could ever be cold with all those layers on,” Rex said. “I just wear the one layer under my armor most of the time and even that is too much sometimes.”

“Remind me to show you how cold my hands and feet can get sometimes,” Lena said. “You’ll probably add another few layers to me yourself.”

Rex reached out and took one of her hands, holding it between his palms.

“I’ll keep your hands warm for you anytime you need,” he said.

Lena leaned down and kissed him softly before pulling her hand away and heading in the direction of the fresher to grab her hair brush. She swiftly undid the long braid and got to work on running the brush through the thick strands. Rex watched her as she worked through a few tangles, and she swore she saw him wince a few times.

“By the way, I never got to ask my question about your hair,” Lena said. “Is it naturally blond like that or do you have to constantly color it? With how short it is, I imagine that would be a lot of upkeep.”

Rex ran his hand over the patch of fuzz that covered his head. Lena knew his hair would be soft curls if he let it grow out, and she longed for the opportunity to do such a thing.

“I actually use a special kind of dye,” Rex explained. “It lasts for a very long time and doesn’t fade. Eventually the roots do grow out, but I have a special supplier.”

“Oh?” 

“Kix is dating this girl who is a hair-stylist. Which is funny to me that she has that job, because she’s a Togruta and doesn’t have any hair herself. He gets the dye from her.”

“Keebo does my hair for me all the time,” Lena said. “It can be fun to experience that when you don’t have it yourself.”

“I suppose.”

“I’ll have to tell Sparx and Blaze about that dye. Their hair takes so much maintenance, especially Blaze’s, since he has to lighten it first before he adds the orange.”

“Sparx?” Rex asked. “Is he one of your men?”

Lena put the finishing touches on her hairstyle and returned the brush to its location. 

“I forget you haven’t met him yet! Sparx is our resident ARC trooper. Both he and Chip have been with Keebo and I from the beginning of the war, even before we officially joined the GAR. He was away for some training, but I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Rex said as Lena walked over to where he was sitting. “I’m sure everyone has interesting stories to tell me about you that you won’t share yourself.”

Lena scrunched her nose at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I promise, my stories are not exciting,” she said. “I’m actually very boring.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Lena leaned in to kiss him again when her comm started to go off on the bedside table. She furrowed her brow in confusion, wondering who would be calling her. Everyone on the ship knew to leave her alone for now and most of the others she would talk to would be seeing her soon enough when they reached Coruscant. She released her hold on Rex and walked over to answer the buzzing comm. A voice she recognized as Senator Organa’s assistant came through.

“Forgive me for bothering you, Lady Orim,” she said. “I know you are on your way back to Coruscant now, but apparently this cannot wait until then.”

“What is it that can’t wait until tomorrow?” Lena asked, annoyance in her tone.

She wasn’t annoyed at the assistant, but at who she knew was likely the cause of this call. There were very few people that would be this insistent to get a hold of her, and she was related to both of them.

“Lord Titus Morell has been calling every few hours, insisting that he talk to you. He won’t tell me what about but insists that it’s urgent.”

Lena rolled her eyes. There was never anything truly urgent that she needed to deal with in her work within the Alderaanian government, especially since taking on the role of the General of the 394th, but Titus always made everything seem like an emergency.

“I’ll send the forwarding information for my office here aboard the Monitor,” she said. “You can let him know that I will speak with him within the hour.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the assistant said. “Again, I apologize for bothering you.”

“It’s not your fault he’s so annoying,” Lena said.

She could swear she heard a cough on the other end, which was likely an effort to cover up a laugh. She ended the call and tossed her comm back onto the bedside table. Turning to face Rex, she gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, Rex. I was going to suggest we get some proper food and go grab some lunch, but it seems I have duties to deal with.”

“What was that all about?” he asked. “Seemed official. More political than military.”

“I’ll explain later,” Lena promised. “But right now I need to deal with a very annoying, stuffy man. Why don’t you head down to the mess and get yourself some food? I’ll come join you if I finish in a reasonable time.”

Rex watched Lena walk away after they parted ways. There was still so much he didn’t know about her life, such as what kind of business she was currently going to deal with. He was eager to learn everything he could about her, but she seemed to almost be withholding information unless he directly asked her about it. He had a feeling she wasn’t used to having new people in her life that she didn’t spend all of her time with. It was something they would just have to work through together. 

Finding his way to the mess hall, Rex acquired some food to satisfy the gnawing hunger in his belly. The ration packs that he and Lena had shared earlier had taken the edge off, but he needed more than just that to keep himself going. GAR issued meals weren’t the most satisfying, but they were full of nutrients, so he suspected that was more important than tasting good. Lena had mentioned that Keebo liked to cook, especially spicy things, so maybe he would get some flavorful meals in the future.

Rex found a mostly empty table and sat down. There weren’t many men in the mess at this time, but he still wanted to have some space to himself. His wishes were denied, however, when someone sat down across from him. When he looked up, Rex found himself face-to-face with Admiral Yung. He supposed there was no chance of convincing the other man to give him some solitude, so he didn’t even bother mentioning it.

“Admiral,” he said in greeting.

“Captain.”

Despite being in the mess, the Admiral did not have a tray in front of him. He only had a cup of what Rex assumed was caf. With nothing to occupy himself with, he was focused on Rex himself. His gaze was a bit unnerving for Rex, who suddenly felt like he was under a microscope. He remembered his conversation with Lena about Yung being aware that something had happened between the two of them. Rex hoped this wasn’t some kind of sign that he was going to get reprimanded.

“It seems that you and the General have become quite close during your time together,” Yung said, lifting his cup to take a sip of his caf. “I believe she’s fond of you.”

Rex narrowed his eyes, wondering briefly if the Admiral had read his mind. He brushed off the thought and tried to regain his composure so as to not give away more than he needed.

“She is a very kind person,” he said. “And she and General Skywalker are close, so it would be a good thing for us to get along, would it not?”

“Usually, getting along does not lead to love bites on someone’s neck.”

Rex nearly choked on his food at Yung’s statement, coughing to clear his throat before glancing up to meet his gaze.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Captain. I know the two of you are more than platonic,” Yung said. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with anything, I see no issue.”

Rex stared at the other man silently for a moment, surprised by his comment. Lena had said that Yung wouldn’t make a fuss about them, but hearing it from the man himself was a completely different matter.

“I believe non-fraternization rules have their place,” Yung continued. “But if everyone is consenting and there’s no drama that can’t be dealt with like adults, workplace relationships can lead to very fruitful relationships.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Rex said.

The corner of Yung’s mouth quirked up slightly, the most emotion Rex had seen from him in their short acquaintance. 

“I met my wife when we were both serving the Republic. I was military, she was medical. It led to a happy marriage and two beautiful daughters. Though I still miss her, I am reminded of her and the good times we had together when I am working. If you have to be somewhere all the time, you may as well find something to make it bearable.”

Rex nodded in agreement, not really sure what to say. He was surprised that Yung was sharing such a personal tidbit of his life when they barely knew each other. He couldn’t remember any personal conversations with Admiral Yularen ever taking place. They were all business, all the time.

“I’ll let you eat your lunch in peace,” Yung said, standing with his cup in his hand. “General Orim is a kind person, as you said. She deserves to be happy.”

This was not the first time Rex had heard this sentiment from someone close to Lena. The fact that multiple people seemed concerned with her happiness warmed his heart. He was glad that she had such people in her corner. However, it also made him sad to think about the fact that she had been so unhappy that this sentiment was necessary. 

“Good day, Captain,” Yung said before walking away, leaving Rex alone once again.

Rex ate his meal in silence, lost in his own thoughts. He was so caught up in what he was thinking about, that he didn’t notice that he was no longer alone. A pair of troopers sat down at his table a short ways down. Their conversation was mundane, but it was something to help him get out of his own head. Rex bowed his head and covertly listened to what the troopers were talking about.

“You know that chick, Maisy?” 

“The Zeltron guard dog that practically lives at 79’s? Yeah, what about her?”

“My girl is friends with her and they were talking about this guy that apparently is bad news.”

“Is it that skinny guy from the squad of weirdos we worked with that one time? Cuz she hangs out with him a lot, and if anyone would be bad news, it would be that guy.”

“No, not him. Some other guy. Didn’t hear what his name was, but he seemed like a real piece of work. Apparently, he searches for girls that are vulnerable and makes them believe he’s going to make their whole lives better. Then, he just leaves them the next morning, laughing at them for falling for his lies.”

“What an ass. I’m surprised Maisy hasn’t kicked the crap out of him yet. I looked at a girl wrong once, according to her at least, and she was giving me the stink eye for months.”

“Apparently, she tried to get him banned, but the owner said he couldn’t ban clones from the clone bar.”

“Wait, this guy is a clone?”

Rex was quickly getting bored of this conversation. He had heard about this guy before from a few of his men. He had never come across him and, like the men at his table, didn’t know his name. He didn’t want to know him either from what he’d heard about him. Just as he was about to get up from the table, he heard something else that grabbed his attention.

“You don’t think it’s him, do you? He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Blond buzzcut, ARC trooper, blue paint on his armor, and I’m pretty sure there’s an X in his name somewhere.”

Rex froze as he heard those words. It almost sounded like they were describing him. He had no idea what this guy looked like, but it seemed like the two of them had a lot in common, at least physically. 

“There was a rumor that this guy has a list of ‘conquests’ that he hopes to achieve. It would not surprise me if a Jedi was on the list.”

“You don’t think the General would fall for that kind of thing would you? Surely she’s smarter than that.”

“Depends on how good the lie is.”

Rex couldn’t listen anymore. This conversation was getting dangerously close to slander and he would not have these lies told about him, especially not where Lena could possibly overhear them.

“Do you two think it is wise to talk about someone when they could be sitting right next to you?” he asked, his anger simmering. “Especially someone who outranks you?”

The two troopers stared at him blankly, one of them opening his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted before he could say anything.

“Exactly, you never know who might overhear.”

All three men whipped their heads in the direction of the new voice and Rex felt his heat sink when he saw Lena standing a short distance away. He panicked, wondering how much she had heard and if she had reached the same conclusion her men had.

“Sorry, General,” one of the troopers said. “We didn’t mean any harm.”

Lena wasn’t looking at the man that was speaking to her. She was looking directly at Rex.

“No harm done,” she said. “Excuse me.”

Rex watched in horror as she turned and walked away from him without another word. He couldn’t exactly yell for her to stop or chase after her. Creating any kind of scene would blow their cover, and there was no guarantee she would listen to him anyways. 

He was trapped.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this part! Please reblog, like, and comment! If you would like to be added to the taglist, go here.

Taglist: @jonesandjoanna​ , @photogirl894​, @twinkyssideblog, @baba-fett, @trixie2023

#captain rex #captain rex x oc #captain rex x jedi oc #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #original characters #OC:Lena Orim

[therk900]

🌼September TC Challenge (Day 1-30)🌼

1 - Are you generally nervous around your tc, or are you more relaxed and comfortable around them? I find I’m more relaxed around them. I am a nervous wreck sometimes but those moments are rare!

2 - Is your tc an introvert or an extrovert? How about you? They are both extroverts while I’m an introvert 

3 - Does your tc use emojis or emoticons when communicating with you? If so, what have they used? if not, what do you think they’d use? S used emojis when he sent personal emails to me! Especially the “😊” emoji. B doesn’t really send emojis. If he did, it would most likely be the thumbs up one or the “😀” emoji

4 - What’s the biggest or most important thing your tc has taught you, ether in terms of life lessons or the subject matter of their class? B: Build my way up so I can do public speaking S: Don’t let shit get to my head!!

5 - Does your tc have a classroom / office, or are they “floating” (using a cart or something and moving from place to place)? What does their teaching space look like? B has an office and it's quite neat, with a couple books here and there. S has 2 offices since he teaches 2 subjects. I have seen one but I’m guessing the other one is neat since he is a neat person in general!

6 - What was your favourite assignment in your tc’s class and why? Are they a harsh grader? For B, I have 2 favourite projects! For one, we got make a homemade magazine about a topic. I got 80% on it! And for the 2nd one, we got to make a creative story which had to follow a simulator timeline of a movie we had watched as a class. I got a 70% on it! With S, we got to do a role play type thing! I got a 73% on it which was good

7 - Do you and your tc have any inside jokes? are they shared by other people (classmates, other teachers, etc) or is it just between you two? Not really

8 - If your tc was an animal, what animal would they be? I feel like S would be a deer and B would be a friendly bear

9 - How do you feel about being in the tcc? Are you afraid of getting caught, etc? Sometimes I am afraid of getting caught since a couple of friends uses Tumblr, so I try and be careful about what I post. But I like being in the tcc.

10 - How long have you been having teacher crushes? How many tc’s have you had in total, and how long have you been in the tcc? I've been liking teachers for 1 and a half years now. I’ve had 4 tc’s in total which is something. I’ve been in the tcc for nearly 2 years now

11 - Is your tc’s room close to the front of your school / campus, or is it more towards the back? Their offices are both at the front of the school which is convenient!

12- Are you shorter or taller than your tc? Both taller than me! S completely towers over me

13 -  does your tc have any pets at home? how many and what animals? B used to have a ginger cat

14 - Does your tc have a blackboard or a whiteboard in their room? What color chalk/marker do they use the most? They both use whiteboards and they mainly used black and red markers

15 - Besides your blog, do you vent about your feelings towards your tc in any other way? I have a mini diary that I use on my computer for things that I don’t put on here. I go more into depth about things there and read back on them every once in a while

16 - Are there any students you’re jealous of in terms of their relationship to your tc? Not really

17 - Imagine that you and your tc were born in the same year. How many days apart would your birthdays be? I would have no clue. Maybe a couple months apart

18 - Have you ever gotten in trouble with your tc? If so, what happened? Never have! Hopefully never will!

19 - Is your tc’s hair curly or straight, and is it short, medium, or long? Both of their hair is straight and short. B’s hair is slightly longer and a tiny bit wavier than S’ hair. 

20- what web browser does your tc use? what kind of phone/computer do they have? I think they both use a HP laptop, so the Microsoft windows web browser. As for phones, they both have apple phones, so safari or google

21- Are there any calendar dates that are special to you because of your tc? Not yet! 

22 - Do any celebrities or fictional characters look like or remind you of your tc? Kind of. There was this one guy on instagram who reminded me of S a tiny bit. There is someone that looks like B as well, but I don’t know who it was. Hopefully I remember soon!

23 - Is your tc’s room/office number even or odd? I have no idea

24 - What do you think sets your tc apart from other teachers at your school? Their personality and looks

25 - Do you like the teachers who are “neighbors” with your tc (that is teachers who have rooms next to your tc)? Yes but no. There are teachers in the same room as each other.

26 - Have you ever suspected someone you know irl of having a teacher crush (either on your tc or on a different teacher)? If so, have you ever confronted them about it? Not really

27 - Do you pass by your tc’s room or office on your way to class frequently? Do you see them around campus a lot? I see them around a lot, but I don’t pass their office tons. I pass B's office sometimes when i have classes in the same building as his office.

28 - Is teaching your tc’s first job, or did they have another job before being a teacher? Have they ever taught at another school before? I know that S has had other jobs before teaching at my school. I think it’s the same for B, but i'm not sure

29 - What things keep you happy and occupied over break when you miss your tc? If you’ve graduated or will no longer be seeing your tc in school, how are you handling the situation? I keep myself busy over the breaks by drawing or doing things on my laptop

30 - What is the sweetest thing they told you or did for you? B liking my drawings and S giving me life advise 

#September teacher crush challenge #male tc #tc #tc community #teacher #teacher crush #teacher x student #male teacher x female student #teacher crush blog #September tc challenge #male teacher crush #tc challenge #tc crush #teacher crush community #male teacher #crush on teacher #teacher and student #male tc crush #male tcc #student x teacher #tc male #tc feels #tc thoughts #tc vent #tcc thoughts #teacher confessions #teacher love #teacher crush confessions #teacher x reader #teachercrushcommunity

[glittervermin]

will be interesting to see how the advent of more and more advanced AI art will affect sculpture... if it progresses at the rate it does, sculpture will be one of the final mediums where it can be certain a human hand was involved.* then even that will be whittled down to stranger and stranger mediums as 3d printers and other manufacturing tech develop.

i don't think it will completely destroy any art form- but it may push them all to offline spheres. people who value art as created solely by a human hand will have to resort to their own community and people they can individually trust and know to be real. this could be kind of amazing, taking art back to a place full of small and unique scenes and small but very involved real world audiences.

the internet becoming a dead feedback loop full of AI entities that are difficult to identify from real human's accounts may also destroy the drive to create for the sake of "likes", shares, and other empty internet points. might force people to return to making for the sake of satisfaction and craft, which i think social media has done vast damage to.

this might seem internet brained or whatever but it seems AI art is now at a point where it frequently takes me 30 seconds to realize it is AI. a year ago it was 1 second. AI made/enhanced video is developing quickly. the early gandbreeder stuff was genuinely pleasing to me and many others, and im starting to see people use current AI in ways that don't just simply irritate me. unless it hits some unexpected wall, AI art is coming, in huge waves.

it feels good to be a sculptor in the face of this, and its a good time to learn how your art exists without the internet- performance nights, open mics, local clubs, submitting your work to local galleries or even just leaving it places people can find it. craft nights, drawing dates, poetry workshops with your friends( blech i know but ... hey) i feel like we should return our work to the real world for a head start on when this becomes essential.

also its just more fun that way haha

controversially im not even against AI art despite how frightening it is to me. im seeing interesting things done with it and being outraged against the march of technology feels pointless. it is really tragic the people with the most control over it are evil, but that isnt a trait unique to ai art. AIs influences over other things might destroy society ofc though. lol. but why distress myself arguing with a tsunami

*no, painting,drawing,etc will not be safe, it is so easy to machinate brushstrokes etc. same for pretty much any other physical medium you think of, eventually even most sculpture. and obv several forms of sculpture will be immediately replicable w combined AI and 3d printing. this is why i predict art communities relying on knowing the artists a little personally as well

*also AI / the internet / social media might implode in some way or hit a wall we can't even imagine yet which would conveniently prevent any of this. im also psychoposting bc i had coffee for the first time in weeks.

*pls dont flame me for asinine AI thought sharing or give me some long ass response PLS HAHA im venting not debating

in short my passion is that you know your whole experience of making or experiencing art should not be online. find / make / share in the real world. (she said, onlinely )

#phew had to get that off my chest

[radiance1]

Jack and Maddie are their world's version of Batman, while Vlad is a criminal overlord.

Jack and Maddie aren't really rich, they have money, but not on Bruce's level. But they have access to a lot of ectoplasmic tech that they built themselves.

They made a certain kind of fabric that's durable as hell, used it to make their suits and designed it in such a way that ectoplasm is weaved into it and gives them special abilities.

Invisibility, intangibility, blink (that thing where you can disappear and reappear nearby) energy strike (from the DP wiki) and super durability.

Their intangibility can't go through things thicker than 2 meters though.

Their invisibility lasts no more than 6 hours, so they usually conserve it most of the time.

(Taking more from the DP wiki)

Maddie uses her double-bladed beam sword and wrist laser among other things.

Jack uses gauntlets that releases a small blast of ectoplasm on hit.

Jack and Maddie's suits also have detachable capes that allow them to glide long distances.

Jack and Maddie also have powers here. Jack has super strength, Maddie has super intelligence!

Vlad has basically all of his powers in the show, as well as being a halfa. That, and he has all his wealth and connections.

Now we are entering DP x DC territory.

Jack and Maddie catch wind of Vlad be involved with some kind of interdimensional technology and goes to put a stop to it before it can be used. Though they hope they can get there before it's made.

They find the place where Vlad is building it, a research building of Vladco. They're plan is to get in, disable the machine and get out, fairly easy to do.

Maddie and Jack find a vent system and crawl through it, though it leads to a crossroad. Jack goes one way and Maddie goes the other, Maddie got lucky and found the security room and tells Jack that through comms.

Maddie drops down and a quick chop to the neck disables the guard and hacks the security system. Jack, meanwhile, drops down into a break room that's currently unoccupied.

Jack looks out the door to see if any guards are there, seeing none he walks out the room and down the hall look, knocking out any guards that he can without getting caught.

Maddie looks through the security cameras and manages to get a route that leads to where the interdimensional tech is being built and guides Jack there while heading there herself.

Jack and Maddie make it to the room, Maddie cracks the code and opens the door. There they see the machine being built that supposedly opens a portal to another dimension, a single scientist is working on the machine and Vlad is nearby.

Vlad turns in Plasmius and goes to engage the two while telling the scientist to keep working on the machines.

A bit into the fight and the scientist finishes the portal and it turns on. Tearing a hole into reality just as Vlad threw Jack across the room, conveniently in front of the now open portal.

Vlad goes to engage Jack again while Maddie steers over to the scientist, pushes him away from the controls and tries to disable the portal.

Vlad and Jack fights in front of the portal, Vlad throwing out beams and Jack getting hits in with his gauntlets.

Maddie manages to get the portal to shut down in a few minutes, but by that time Vlad threw Jack into the portal and jumped into it to continue the fight. Maddie rushes over to the portal and remembering they have a time limit, rushes in.

The previously forgotten scientist who was pushed out the way, considers his options about what he can do. He gives an unheard apology and closes the portal.

The portal pushed Jack, Maddie, and Vlad out in Metropolis.

(Idk how to continue so I call upon one of the DP x DC bread and butter accounts)

@stealingyourbones YOU!!!

#Dp x DC #crossover

[bpdshowdown]

Submitted Wheatley Portal 2. He decides to help the player for literally no other reason than the fact that he got attached to you and wants your approval only to then split on you just because GLaDOS discredited him and then he immediately jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're siding with her and that you don't appreciate him. And then later on during the boss battle, he accuses you of not caring about him and accuses you of taking advantage of him the entire time. Wheatley is highly insecure and self conscious, has an unstable relationship with the player while also being clingy with them, is clearly paranoid about being duped and taken advantage of. Seriously, his ENTIRE boss battle rant is a BPD rage episode. Like look at these lines:

"We've had some times, haven't we? Like that time I jumped off my management rail, not sure if I'd die or not when I did, and all you had to do was catch me? Annnd you didn't. Did you? Oh, you remember that? I remember that. I remember that all the time. And we would have talked our way out of it. Except you forgot to tell me you'd MURDERED her. And that she needed you to live, so the only available vent for her rage would be good old crushable Wheatley. Yeah. Little details that I remember. Easy little tidbits you could have used to save me from getting crushed if you'd cared, which you didn't, obviously. And still do not."

"Oh, remember the time I took over the facility? Greatest moment of my life. But you? Just wanted to leave! Didn't want to share my success. Well, so you know, I would be HAPPY for you if you succeeded... Apart from right now, obviously."

"Enough! I told you not to put these cores on me. But you don't listen, do you? Quiet. All the time. Quietly not listening to a word I say. Judging me. Silently. The worst kind!"

"All I wanted to do was make everything better for me... All you had to do was to solve a couple hundred simple tests for a few years... AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN LET ME HAVE THAT, COULD YOU?!"

"And another thing! You never caught me... I told you I could DIE falling off that rail and you didn't catch me... Didn't even TRY. Oh! It's all becoming clear to me now. Find some dupe to break you out of cryosleep, give him some sob story about escaping to the surface, squeeze him for information on where to find a portal gun, then, when he's- when he's no more use to you, he has a little ACCIDENT, doesn't he? 'Falls' off his management rail, doesn't he?"

"You're in this together, aren't you? You've been playing me the whole time! Both of you! First you make me think you're brain damaged... Then you convince me you're sworn enemies with your best friend over here!"

"Then, then, when I reluctantly assume the responsibility of running the place, you conveniently decide to run off together. Just when I need you most!"

"I'll bet there isn't even a problem with the facility, is there? I'll bet there's no such thing as a 'reactor core'. I'll bet that's not even fire coming out of the walls, is it? It's just cleverly placed lights and papier mache, I'll bet that's all it is! All those pieces of the ceiling that keep falling out? Probably-... probably actually pieces of the ceiling, I'll- I'll bet. That looked real. But it doesn't signify anything, is my point!"

"But the real point is - oh! You know what I've just remembered? Football! Kicking a ball around for fun. Cruel, obviously. Humans love it. Metaphor. Should have seen it coming!"

This is very lovely writing! I haven't finished Portal 2 yet, but it is super convincing! Thanks for the ask :)

#propaganda #ask #anon #not poll

[chrispychiken]

Let's get this out of the way. First and foremost, there's always two sides to a story and there's always more that is always shown. There's some parts that haven't even been and never will be shown. Also excuse my Tumblr profile, I haven't used it since last year.

I am speaking from my pov, and recalling the events as I remember them. I have written things down as I went, in the order that I remember them. I also have examples and proof of certain instances. This is only for clarification and remembrance purposes only.

This is for you, and you only. I don't want any discourse, so I'll do my best to not sound rude.

I'll start off by saying that I do not "talk shit" about you on the internet. What I assume you call the "internet" is mainly Twitter because I blocked you on all forms of social media (except Tumblr because I don't use it and I forgot I even had one) where I use it (Twitter) as a diary/journal and just a place to vent (like most people) who use social media as an avenue to express themselves and to share memes and such. I don't do it for anyone but myself. I have a few friends who follow me and will sometimes interact with my posts and comment but that's about it. It's not for you or anyone else. It's for me and me alone. What I do on my social media is not your concern anymore which is why you're blocked. If I really cared, I would have reached out a long time ago but I'm not like that. The only time I'm reaching out is because I saw your post. To call it reaching is a stretch as it's more of a clarification.

You don't tell people about us? I don't find that believable. Why? Because why would you not? Isn't it healthy to have a group of family/friends who will listen to you vent? Isn't it healthy to have someone to talk to? Here's a recommendedation: You should. Whether that be a therapist, your parents, your sisters, your husband, etc. It's a good thing to have. I'm sorry that I have a friend group that were my thick and thin even before we met that stayed with me during our time together. They usually know me and who I am as a person and what I deal with. While we were together, I rarely spoke about us but when I did, it was only when it was convenient or when I needed advice. They're my go-to and I wouldn't be who I am today without their help. I've seen a therapist for over a year now because you know, you said I should? It helped tremendously. It was hard in the beginning because I hated that you couldn't tell your side and I hated how I could only tell mine. I like to have all the facts before jumping into conclusions.

I know you tell others about us. Want to know how I know? A few assumptions of course but the first one is a fact: 1. Your then-boyfriend at the time now-husband stalked me on Twitter and called me a clown for expressing myself over something terrible that happened to me that you did in regards to my clothes that you kept (which by the way you had no right to get rid of them. That was my property) and 2. I'm not sure you were aware, but a friend of yours (I think Greg? I don't remember his name) sent me a friend request on Twitter; probably to spy on me for you (only assumptions). That AND I keep my Twitter privacy open. Another example could be 3. That post you wrote but it's only assumptions unfortunately (because how are else are you to know I talk about you). Also 4. Your father, whom was very nice and actually gave me SOME closure, messaged me the same day I assume you received your clothes back last year. I assume you all probably had a hay day when you read my letter out loud and exchanged laughs. I felt like I had the common decency and respect for you to send your things back AND write you a letter explaining myself because you know, who likes ending on bad terms right?

To back-peddle on your statement that I "conditioned" you to push everyone away, is false. I have MANY examples through exchanged texts how I wanted you to have friends and family to support you and to talk to so I wasn't holding up the weight all the time. You didn't want to. I also DID NOT condition you to cry every night and I did my best to not upset you. Seeing you cry was something I hated very deeply. I'm sorry, but that's on you and your own emotions how you interpret things. Let me recall all the nights that you kept me up because you didn't like anything I said, hence the crying. Lord knows I reassured you every chance I got. You never accepted my reassurance. It was a problem through the whole relationship. And what's this about it being all your fault? We had discussed on MULTIPLE if not COUNTLESS occasions that it was neither your fault or mine, but OURS and the situation we were in. Keyword: Ours. I never said anything was your fault, you assumed everything was. Since you want to think I made you think it was, let me ask, do you remember you over-thinking? Remember me also over-exemplifying and detailing scenarios of plans to you and in-detail, telling you my thought process to help you? Remember me staying up past my schedule and losing sleep just to make sure you were okay? The only time that I didn't is when it was getting close to the end because nothing was changing. We weren't growing. I guess it went all over your head. At some point I got tired of talking and wanted you to talk to me like an adult instead of saying "no it's fine" whenever I asked you if you're okay or you answering "Yes. It's nothing" when there was clearly something wrong. I was tired at that point.

There's nothing wrong with your accomplishments because they are your own and they're well deserved. I really do hope you have the best success in life. (That's not sarcasm by the way and I hope you know that.) You've worked hard your entire high school and college careers, jumping over to Basic Military Training and getting Honor Graduate and doing amazing in tech school and I'm sure whatever you're doing now, you're excelling at so, kudos to you. I remember watching you graduate BMT with your mom on live broadcast last year. It was a good time.

Again, you not talking to me is your own fault. I don't know how you weren't able to communicate with me when I was so open about us talking out our feelings. I remember you telling me that you were afraid of me at one point and that hurt. That really fucking hurt. I never ever even ONCE physically hurt you or yelled at you and I did my best to explain things as much as possible to you. I never meant to hurt you emotionally or at all for that fact. There were times where it got heated, but I was transparent as glass with you about everything. Where it went wrong, I still ask myself these questions every day.

Now, I was hurting yes. Taking it out on you is something I regret and I could have done better to avoid. I was hurting not just in our relationship, but in my day-to-day life at that time and I did my best to make that perfectly clear back then. I was being overworked, paid not nearly as much as I would have liked, barely survived off of one paycheck when I lived on my own (which is why I asked for help but I know you weren't living with me yet so I said no for asking money from you) and COVID was a huge issue so I couldn't visit and take leave. No one on active duty could leave during COVID and you took that personally for some reason. Being in the maintenance field, I would work sometimes 14 hour days and not have my phone on me and when I would get the chance (which wasn't often) I would check my notifications from you. I couldn't respond as much as I wanted to, but I tried. I remember telling you that I would at least look at your messages because that way you could see that I saw them. I don't understand why it was so hard for you to grasp that I had huge responsibilities at that time. I just wanted us to grow and understand that we didn't have to talk every second of every day but at least we had it at night. I wanted some trust from you and time to myself once and a while so I could focus on these problems. That's all I wanted from you, and I never got it because whenever I asked for it, you thought I didn't want to talk to you or that I was mad at you and that's far from the truth. To this day I stand by that statement(s).

The big issue was that I was upset because when I said I didn't want you to do something, you did it anyway. It upset me from the time you said you'd do it, to the very end. You've heard this before but I'll say it again: What kind of person would I be if I said "no." to you? What kind of person/significant other barricades something from the person they love? That to me IS manipulative. That's not someone I wanted to be. I didn't want you to join NOT BECAUSE you wouldn't be successful, BUT BECAUSE I KNEW how even MORE difficult it was going to be for us. And on top of that, I STILL helped you through it because it's what you wanted. It was rough, and I didn't like it, but I LOVED YOU so I toughed through it. Does any of that sound familiar? It's almost like you went through the same thing with me right? Through all of that, you told me that I didn't support you, AND THAT IS FALSE and that hurt me when you said that. If I didn't support you, I would have left a long time ago but I stayed. I even gave you the idea to shave your head remember? Because I wanted you to be strong and be a good role model for your family and sisters. AND I EVEN DID IT WITH YOU. I even said BEFORE YOU LEFT FOR BMT, that I COULDN'T write you letter every day because of my schedule and you got upset. I even helped you get through the early stages before BMT, I helped you with the process of enlisting and getting through BMT like you did for me too. I was there every step of the way with you and did I quit? No! Even when it was hard, and I had even thought and said about breaking up (even though I didn't want to) AND I still stayed. It seems like you forgot all of that...

Remember me saying that I didn't want an Easy Relationship? Well I DID NOT MEAN, MAKE. IT. HARDER. I wanted us to get through challenges together but also to think about each other. Is that so hard to ask? I asked and said that many MANY times. Before I left and even when I was in the early stages of my contract, I gave you the option on multiple occasions if you wanted to leave and you could have. I also knew that you would leave me if you joined because I saw that happen to others in tech school and basic training and I didn't want that to happen to us. I even said that to you as well WHILE I WAS IN TECH SCHOOL. I knew exactly what was going to happen and low and behold it did. I was not trying to manipulate you into not joining but I was trying to mitigate everything. I was hoping you would think of me and us before jumping head first into a long-term commitment such as the military.

Going back to the breaking up part, unfortunately breaking up felt like the only option at the time because even though I wanted you so badly and I wanted us to work out, I knew it wasn't going to work. I felt like I wasn't being heard anymore. You were doing your own thing and that's great and all, but it wasn't about us anymore. Eventually I just stopped talking about it because it wasn't going anywhere. Nothing was changing your mind. It came off really selfish to me and I felt like there wasn't a bigger picture in your head at the time.

You can correct me on it, but I don't ever recall a time that I said you didn't deserve anything. I don't know where that comes from but that doesn't sound like anything I would say. I could be wrong and if I ever said that I'm sorry. I would need to know context. You can say what you want, but I prioritized us first and foremost. Me enlisting, was not just for me but for you. I wanted to provide for us and that was something I took pride in. You really made me feel like what I was doing wasn't worth it. I felt like I couldn't provide and my choices didn't matter. I could only do with what I had at the time and I can't change that. My biggest challenge was trying to get you to see that and to this day it seems like you still struggle to see my point of view. On what reality were you in? Because I remember trying to not be so naive and to bring us back on to the same page on multiple occasions. I wasn't going to live in a fantasy forever.

I've definitely thought long and hard about what I've done but can you say the same? If we happened to meet again, would you be able to explain to me what you did wrong? Would I ever get a real apology? Because I have a detailed list of things I've done wrong that I could have done better. But I also have a list of things that you did to me that were wrong that can make a huge difference. It's all about perspective. It's easy to sit across the table and blame someone for what they did but it takes a lot to recognize what we've done and own up to it.

Could I have said things differently? Absolutely. Could I have responded timely and accurately to your needs? Sure! Hindsight is always 20/20. Coulda-shoulda-woulda doesn't help entirely but it's what the actions that follow that matters. So, I have a few choice words for you:

Frankly, your actions towards me speaks way more than what I ever did. You coerced me many times to do what you wanted. I had to bend over backwards on occasions just to please you. I had to cut out time with friends and family to make you happy; and that was even before I left for BMT. I had to ask for permission to even see family. I lost sleep, I was late to work on multiple occasions, I missed out on concerts, get-togethers, parties and social events because of you. Something I don't talk about is I even dropped out of college because I couldn't focus on school because you took priority. Since you want to talk about manipulation so much, you also coerced me into getting married when although I wanted to and I had no money. It lead me to flip-flop a lot over a decision becuase I had to think of ways to come up with money I didn't have (and I know how much you hated it because trust me I hated it way more). As a first term airman in the dorms, I didn't make much and I had made that clear more than once. I had bills and responsibilities that I had to attend to also. Remember how I defaulted on my own funds to travel to Spokane because I had to pay for a hotel when I got here and I had no money after our trip? I was in debt until pretty recently to pay it back. My credit dropped and I was running on one paycheck every month which is why I wanted to deploy at the time because I would at least make more money tax-free. And you know what? I didn't because you told me you didn't want me to deploy so I didn't. There's a lot of contradictory statements that are prevalent in that post that frankly sound one-sided and narcissistic to me with a lack of perspective. I wanted to do so much for you and there's a lot that I did that you didn't see. I was prepping to spend a life with you and I got the latter only because you didn't listen to me and assumed I didn't want you which is entirely false. Those are just a few examples of what I had to deal with.

And last year in 2021, I had bought a ring for you. I took out a small loan for an engagement ring to give you and I was planning on asking your family if it was all right to propose. I had to skip on meals to scrounge up the funds necessary to pay for it. Unfortunately I didn't have the time to talk to them because of work and personal responsibilities and I felt so bad. I couldn't even call your family like I wanted to because of conflicting schedules. The ring wasn't much but it was all I had at the time. I was burnt-out mentally and physically and I was not all together but I really wanted you to just listen to me even if you didn't quite understand what I was going through. I was going to surprise you and I didn't want to tell you even when you wanted me to tell you. If you would have just talked to me about everything, maybe it would have worked out different. I ended up pawning off the ring that weekend I found out you cheated on me.

NO ONE deserves to be cheated on regardless of how bad the situation was. You had your reasons, but I also had every right to know what was going on in your head. I had no idea you went through all this and it was because you didn't talk to me. Remember when you told me that you cried that mother's day weekend when your family came to see you at Vandenberg? I didn't know until after you told me once it was all over. I never knew you were going through any of it. All you had to do was speak up. I didn't deserve any of that. I was never mad at you, but I was mad that you couldn't talk to me. Communication is a huge part in any relationship.

After it all I wrote you a letter explaining a little bit of my side in hopes that maybe it would have been more insight into it all. I packaged it in with your things I sent back. What I thought was a good send-off, instead I ended up losing my dignity and was stalked and made fun of (I assume). And I'll never get my stuff back either. I hope you got your things all in once piece by the way. I couldn't get rid of your things because you deserved them back and I didn't have the heart to do so.

Talking about introspection, how about that and a bit of retrospective on your actions as well. I've done a lot with the time I've had to myself. I'm not married and I don't think I ever will be. Every relationship I've ever been in, I've been lied to, cheated on, and mistreated. You were the only one I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. And about those things I said that you did? It's not manipulative. It's calling you out for what it is/was. You've ruined future relationships for me and I will now forever have a hard time forming connections. I still have a hard time accepting who I am and I feel unlovable. I'd rather be single than have to go through another fallout like our relationship was. I don't ever want to have to keep explaining myself over and over and over just to not be heard. I can talk all day, but if you're not willing to see it from my point of view and at least try to understand where I come from, it's pointless. I don't ever want to have to deal with the loneliness I had to deal with even if I've got used to it now, ever again. The past three years of my life haven't been that great but it's been looking up this year so I can't complain.

Let me also remind you that I forgave you and gave you another chance only for you to fuck it up and turn it on me saying that it was all my fault for the way you acted and me acting accordingly to your actions. That's not right. It's not for you to decide if you stay or go if you're the one who left me. Don't leave me wondering if you're going to stay only to leave me anyway. I'm not an option and I'm not going to wait around for you. You didn't even give me enough time to process it all and when I finally wanted to come back, you decided to talk to him again and said that you weren't given enough time. THAT'S manipulation to me so I had enough. I was done. I'm also not going to stay "your friend" only to sit and be made fun of by people who I once loved and wanted in my life.

So look at yourself and your situation and be thankful that you're back home, married, and doing something great with your life and I'm sure doing well.

Never did I think you were out to get me but like I said previously somewhere in this, I felt like you undermined my success. Yeah you said I was "doing something" but when I needed you to sit down with me and see it from my eyes, you couldn't do it. And like I said previously, your actions afterwards there after show the lack of respect you had for me. I was so proud of you for doing amazing and what you wanted but to take an idea that I gave you, and run with it and say it's your own isn't right. I talked about you and what you were doing to others and they were chearing us on. Only a few times did they ever say they were confused on what you were doing but oh well.

I'm not saying you're a bad person and neither am I. We made bad choices and a lot of them were over miscommunication, misconceptions and assumptions.

It takes two to be in a relationship so I'm willing to take part of the blame. But calling me a manipulative victim is something that I won't accept. I don't call myself a victim. You can think what you want though. I would hope me writing this maybe changes your view a little bit but I can't control what you think or your emotions.

Regardless of all of that, I still have everything we did together. I have your blanket you knitted for me, and all your notes and pictures. I have it all and I don't ever want to throw them away like I'm sure you did for me. Maybe I should because it's not going to do any good for me anymore.

But most of all, through everything, through the hardest times of my life so far, you're still on my mind. I will always love you and I wish you and your husband well regardless of what turned out. I hope you get the best things in life and all the success you get. You deserve that much.

And wishing you the best is something I don't say lightly. I mean that wholeheartedly and respectfully. I'm not being sarcastic at all. It's hard to tell sometimes through a screen.

I hope you read all of that with an open mind. I own up to my mistakes. Can you do the same?

Lastly, I hope your family is doing well. I miss your family a lot and I wish you all the best. I think fondly of them all the time. I wish things would have worked out differently.

Wishing you well is not gaslighting or manipulative of me to make you feel bad. I'm saying all of that because I was raised better and I like to think I'm a good fucking person. I pick and choose my circle of friends carefully and who I choose to be with even closer. I'm sorry that I have had an impact to make you feel negatively when all I've ever done is try to make sense of it all and to make sure our interests were good at heart.

That's all.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

advice/vent

For background I'm sharing a small apartment with an older sibling who basically hated me up until I was 18 and we both had to leave an abusive house together, since it was easier to afford with both incomes combined. Things used to be okay around that time but after I was hospitalised due to mental health issues and being assaulted they've sort of began to hate me again.

They never talk to me and practically ignore my existence except when we have to talk about bills or my parents, I feel super lonely and suicidal every time I come home from work. Practically 60 percent of my money goes to them and I understand it's just a part of life yet it's like I'm a slave to their negativity and I feel too stuck to even help myself.

I've been considering saving up to move out when the lease ends even if I'm broke but anytime I mention us renting separately they freak out and cry about how much harder I'll be making things for them and ignore any of my concerns then just giving me silent treatment, almost guilt tripping me I guess? Like moving out would be hard on me too in every way but not as hard as living like this another year. It seems so unfair to share a space with someone, where they don't even allow you to feel welcome in. I don't know anyone else who's been in the same situation or similar before it's just beyond isolating and I'm tired.

So tldr I'm asking for any advice on how to leave behind a toxic family member who won't change or respect you even though you were both abused and sort of survived it together?

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about the situation you're in. It's not easy to navigate leaving a toxic family member, and so the answer unfortunately isn't clear or simple. Please know that you are seen and heard, and you do not deserve to be treated this way.

I think it's worth examining the fact that they take more than half of your money. Financial abuse is using finances as a means to assert power or control over another person. Things like taking control of someone else's finances, controlling how all the income is spent, and withholding your money can be considered financial abuse.

It sounds like your sibling is self-centered and doesn't consider your needs. It's important to focus on what you need to do to feel safe and happy, and not what would be most convenient for your sibling. You do not deserve to be taken advantage of, guilt tripped, and given the silent treatment.

Since it seems like your sibling isn't receptive to having a conversation about how this situation is impacting your health and safety, it may be worth just not telling your sibling about your plans, and perhaps not communicating with them at all if they continue to behave this way towards you. While I don't have any specific advice, the first step might be to try and save up some money, and look into other places you could live.

I recognize this may not be an option for you right now, but if you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could help you process your relationship with your sibling and come up with a strategy to leave. If you are comfortable, this may also be a situation worth bringing to the attention of the authorities, as they can potentially help escort you to a safe place to stay for a while.

Although these resources pertain more to intimate relationships, their tips can still apply to your situation - here is a guide to leaving an abusive relationship, and here are some other recommendations.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw financial abuse #tw emotional abuse

[sasquatchboobs]

Just venting:

I have been trying to invest in more natural fabric clothing, so when I go to the thrift store I prioritize pieces that are wool, linen, silk, cotton, etc. I've been trying to make my secondhand clothes last longer, so I've been investing more time into laundry as well. I bought some Woolite to be able to hand wash some more delicate pieces, and today I was going to do that. I go to grab the bottle of Woolite and... It's almost empty. I haven't used it once since I bought it about 3 weeks ago, and yet there is maybe one capful left in the bottle. Did it leak? Fall over and spill somewhere?

Nope. Guess who decided to grab the bottle without reading it and pour like a cup into his laundry every time, in addition to the usual pod of detergent??? Maybe I could laugh it off if he admitted it and apologized. But I asked if he used the Woolite, and he got all defensive and said "like barely once, a few months ago, why are you freaking out it's just detergent" (obviously a lie, both the "barely once" part and the "a few months ago" part, as the first time we've had any Woolite in the house is when I bought it 3 weeks ago).

I'm just tired. Tired of him treating anything I buy like it's his, while being super protective over "his" shit. Tired of him getting defensive when I non judgementally ask a question. Tired of him assuming I don't know when he's lying to me.

Like, he literally cut me off from smoking any of "his" weed, that I would give him money for, because he didn't think I "appreciated" how much he was spending on it. Turns out he can easily still smoke $300 a month by himself while I'm out here spending like $80-100 a month on my own shit. But will he ever admit that? Of course not.

Oh and let's not forget his precious computer. Once I accidentally stepped on a cord (dozens of which crisscross the floor haphazardly) and it powered off his computer (it had already been asleep). He flipped his shit and was SO worried about it, telling me, "you have to be more careful, that's like $5000 worth of equipment that you could have ruined" and I felt really bad. But then I realized,

1. Why is the power cord, and others, crossing the middle of the room where it's a tripping hazard in the first place, and

2. He wouldn't even spend $500, a tenth of that, on the engagement ring I wanted.

My ring is a no-cost, dinged-up, hand-me-down from his POS dad that his mom didn't want and never got around to pawning. It's missing stones and doesn't fit me; but would he spend $50, just 1% of his computer to at least get it resized so I could wear it without it falling off? Nope. Would he pay to replace the missing stones so I wouldn't have to be embarrassed to show it to people? Nope. I guess I'm not worth even a small fraction of what he'll pay for his computer, which he spends more time with than me.

I feel like he says I'm his #1 priority, the most important thing in his life, but his actions don't back those words up. I think I'm just convenient to have around, to talk at, and to pester for sex before going back to his games and ignoring me.

[lowspoonsinstantrecipes]

Basic Chili

this recipe uses dried beans and takes about 3-4 hours from start to finish, but most of that time is cooking time that requires no monitoring other than checking a timer if you feel like it. it makes 6-8 hearty servings, so it's perfect to make ahead and freeze or half a week's leftovers for two.

ingredients:

1 Cup dry red beans

1 Cup dry black beans

4-5 cups water

2 14oz cans crushed or diced tomatoes

1/2 lb bacon or breakfast sausage* (you can easily use a full pound if you like, I just like to stretch my bacon a little farther)

1-2 onions diced (or 1/3-1/2 Cup dried onion flakes)

1/4 cup blackstrap molasses

2-3 Tablespoons minced garlic**

1-2 Tablespoon salt

1 Tablespoon ground black pepper

1 Tablespoon cumin

1-3 teaspoons cinnamon

1-2 Tablespoons red chili powder or flakes of choice

* if you prefer to use a different type of protein or forego meat altogether, be sure to add an appropriate amount of fat of your choice (1-2 Tablespoons of butter or vegetable oil should work)

** dry, canned, or fresh minced garlic will all suffice, or substitute 1-2 Tablespoons of garlic powder

instructions:

rinse the beans and remove any rocks or gross-looking beans

place the beans in the instant pot and cover with 4-5 cups fresh water

seal the lid closed on the instant pot and make sure the vent indicator is pointed to "sealing". press the "beans/chili" button and increase the cooking time to 45 minutes.

use the time the beans are cooking to gather and prepare the rest of the ingredients. measure molasses and spices, cut and/or brown meats, dice onions, and get out cans of tomatoes. set everything next to the instant pot for convenience, then go do something else for an hour or so.

after the instant pot preheats and 45 minutes of cooking have passed, the instant pot should automatically switch to "keep warm" mode and will display the number of minutes that have passed since the cooking cycle ended. give it at least 30 minutes to naturally release pressure (this gives the beans a little extra cooking time and makes them softer. beans will not increase in softness after you add tomatoes because of a weird interaction between beans and acid)

carefully move the vent indicator to the "venting" position to release any residual pressure, then remove the lid and check the beans for doneness (if not soft enough, replace lid and cook on the bean setting for another 15 minutes). dump all the rest of the ingredients into the instant pot on top of the beans and stir with a large spoon to mix everything together.

replace the lid on the instant pot, turn the vent indicator back to "sealing", and select the "meat/stew" option. (you may need to press "cancel" before you can choose another cooking option) set the time to 45 minutes, then go do something else for another 90 minutes or until the post-cooking counter indicates 30 minutes again.

vent residual pressure and open the lid, add more salt to taste if needed, and serve

notes:

if you are using raw meat in your chili I recommend browning it in a pan before adding to chili to make absolute certain it is thoroughly cooked and safe for consumption, or increase the cooking time to up to 60 minutes after adding the rest of the ingredients. if you're using any kind of precooked sausages, this step won't be necessary

omitting any of the spices in this recipe that you don't have or don't like should be fine, but if it tastes like it's lacking something you may need to experiment on your own until you find a mix you like

you can save spoons by making a chili spice mix for yourself ahead of time in medium to large quantities and then using about 1/3 cup per batch

some additional spices you may add to taste to make things more interesting:

lemon pepper, fennel seed, rosemary, or sage in teaspoon-range quantities

coffee, cocoa powder, or ground coriander seed in tablespoon-range quantities

#flavor rating medium #flavor rating strong #low spoons recipe #cleanup rating some extra dishes #test status tested

[johnietodd4]

Gu Bo with no humanity

“The kitten is cute, you can pet it, you can appreciate its loveliness, but it has become a tool for people who are a little twisted and abnormal to vent. Gu Bo is one such person. If he is unhappy or has a bad day at work, the kitten becomes the object of his vent. With his good looks and decent job, he is hard to relate to as a cat abuser. One such well known ABC News reporter in Beijing abused, abandoned, and killed nearly 20 kittens since January, an act that was eventually discovered by neighbors and neighborhood properties and revealed a long hidden secret.

According to the cleaning lady, in March, he often found the body of a kitten hidden in some flowers in the neighborhood. At first, he did not care that it was normal to starve to death, until one owner lost his key, when he helped her find it, she was shocked when they opened the trash can. The bodies of two unidentified animals were thrown away as garbage in a black trash bag, since I couldn’t see the small animals being treated like garbage and put in the same place as the domestic garbage, I decided to find a place to bury them, but who knows in the buried time actually discovered is two has been dug the eye kitten, the method is extremely cruel, the leg has been broken. Although he was very angry at the time, he was more shocked by what happened more than 10 days later. He found another kitten in a similar shape near the trash can under the same corridor. If it had not been for the amount of garbage that day, the transport truck would not have been able to hold it, the bag would have slipped without being seen. Then, as in other encounters in Lenovo, the building became a focus of attention, chatting with residents, whether consciously or unconsciously, as they swept the aisles. I just heard that this third-floor resident likes cats. And there’s always screaming in the house, which neighbors initially thought was a cat fight. Neighbors later learned that aunt repeatedly found animal bodies in the garbage can, just know the truth of the matter. Gu Bo also threatened to clean the aunt said he was a reporter, can investigate the information of her home, which made the cleaning aunt very worried, so quit his job, to work elsewhere.

Gu Bo to “Convenient, clean”as the reason to torture and kill those animals with their pain, it is intolerable. He’s using his position to intimidate people. Should be brought to justice. The 1822, the world’s first law against arbitrary human cruelty to animals, was enacted in Britain, the famous Martin Act, and for more than a hundred years, the United States, Australia, Canada and more than 100 other countries and regions have adopted laws to safeguard animal welfare, and animal welfare clauses have also been included in the WTO. In many Animal Welfare Protection Laws, the Prohibition of animal cruelty has become the most basic bottom line rules. It is the common understanding of civilized society that it is forbidden to kill animals, and the bottom-line guarantee of animal welfare should be written into the national law. How a country’s citizens treat animals is an important indicator of the degree of civilization of a society. Because the attitude toward animals directly reflects people’s basic attitude toward life. Although, under the restriction of macroeconomics and so on many factors, the protection of animal welfare is still a marginalized subject. However, we should expect the law to provide a minimum level of protection for animal welfare, with a clear ban on the killing of animals -- those whose fur and flesh meet our needs for survival and development, it is the duty of human beings to live together.