#not only dose this look official as hell

[drewsbuzzcut]

Valentine’s Day Through The Years

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: mentions sex, mentions drinking, mentions being pregnant and I think that’s all(let me know if i missed something)

First Valentines as a couple (2023)

The 3 dozen red roses sit prettily on your kitchen counter, and the warmth you feel pacing around your living room, waiting for Mat to arrive, is similar to the cup of coffee he had sent to you in the morning. You’re still in shock that he remembered your coffee order, especially when you’ve only been officially dating for 7 days. It gives you confidence about your relationship, the promise of it lasting and growing strong as the days pass by.

Part of you was sad that Mat wasn’t with you in the morning, his focus and responsibility being on his morning skate. Another part of you didn’t even expect to celebrate Valentine’s Day being that your relationship is new. So for him to send you flowers and coffee, means a lot more than it typically would. Plus, he’s picking you up any minute for a couple of drinks. You can’t wait to see him in the suit he wore to the arena earlier. He looked so handsome through the photos posted online, so you have no doubt that he’ll be even prettier to the eye.

A hard knock snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly pull it open. You let out a giggle when he immediately pulls you into his chest. His arms lock around your neck and yours wrap around his middle.

“Barzy! You played like a superstar out there. Congrats on the win,” you cheer, pulling him into a kiss.

“Thank you, pretty girl. I wish you were there,” he whispers against your lips.

“Me too, but for now I will settle on seeing you through a screen,” you rest your forehead on his and rub his shoulders. He looks tired and you’re sure he’s feeling sore.

“You look so beautiful,” he eyes your dark denim and pretty, lace top.

“Thank you, handsome,” you blush wildly. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his compliments.

“Ready to head out?” You nod your head and let him lead you out of your apartment.

“Thank you for the flowers and coffee, babe. That was really sweet of you,” you whisper, breaking up the silence as you walk to the nearest bar.

“No need to thank me. You deserve it and more. I’m sorry I couldn’t spend the entire day wrapped in your arms,” he apologizes in the most sincere way.

“I swear it’s fine. I know hockey is your main priority. Thank you for taking me out even though I know you’re tired as hell right now,” you wrap your hand around his, feeling fire spread throughout your arm. It lingers in your body and you have to take a moment to cool down.

“You keep me going, baby. I’d never pass up a chance to be with you. Anyways, it’ll be nice to look back at this moment whenever we have kids. They’ll know to never settle,” he says nonchalantly even though his heart is pounding in his ears. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off, but he can’t help but picture his entire future with you in it.

“You’re such a charmer,” you turn in front of him to quickly peck his lips. You move back to his side just as quickly, practically skipping beside him as you think about your future with your hockey player.

Valentine’s Day with Nolan (2026)

“Nolan, smile for the camera baby,” you try to get Nolan’s attention on Mat’s phone.

“Nolie, be like mama and strike a pose,” your boyfriend teases, doing his own little pose as well. You giggle at his antics, cheeks rosy from his silliness, but also from the heat that warms your entire body from just being close to him.

You and Mat are laid in bed, cuddling under the thick comforter with Nolan in between you two.

Your baby is almost 7 months old, celebrating his first Valentine’s Day in the cutest onesie that says, “cuter than cupid.” You and Mat have spent the entire morning kissing your son’s soft, chubby cheeks and listening to his sweet giggles.

“I love you,” Mat whispers, turning on his side to face you. His hand reaches over Nolan’s little body and settles on your stomach.

“I love you, Barzy,” you place your hand over his, turning your head to look into his eyes. His pretty, hazel eyes that make you melt and make you feel so many emotions.

The eyes that you wake up to and the ones you dream about when he’s away. Mat’s the love of your life and you feel lucky to have him here with you and your baby.

You watch as he repeats the same words in Nolan’s ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking a deep inhale of his baby scent. You’ve been lucky enough to witness all the different sides there are to your boyfriend, but him taking on the role of fatherhood is your favorite.

Your thoughts drift to the hand written letter Mat gave you this morning, and the way his face scrunched up to keep his tears at bay. You’ve never been given a hand written letter, so the piece of paper sitting on your bedside table means that absolute world to you.

“I never saw myself finding a love that feels new every single day, but I find myself pleasantly surprised when I wake up to your beautiful face in the morning and still feel an immense amount of love in my heart. You’ve given me life, you’ve given me purpose- especially with our baby boy. God, I can’t believe I get to love you. I can’t believe you’re the mother of my baby and future babies. I wish I could be there with you today, but duty calls. I love you with all my heart. -kisses from Mat.”

You repeat the words over and over again in your head, thankful that you have the opportunity to know a love like Mat’s.

First Valentines as a married couple (2028)

Your hands cradle your husband’s cheeks, eyes locked and hearts beating in tandem. His hair is matted to his forehead, sweat lining the contours of his godlike body. You’re positive you look just as unkempt and breathless. You lean in, as much as you can with your 6 month baby bump in the way, and slant your lips over his. His hands travel up your back, one hand straying to the back of your neck. He caresses the cherries inked into your skin.

“I love you,” you mutter into the kiss.

“I love you. You’re such a goddess. Look at you, carrying my baby,” Mat says lovingly, his lips traveling down your chin to your chest.

He sucks softly on the “13” tattooed on the swell of your boob, making your back arch. Your body will never not react to his touches.

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple,” he points out the obvious. A soft smile rests on your features and a warm blush coating your cheeks. You don’t think the giddy feeling Mat gives you will ever go away. You don’t want it to.

“I know, husband. This one’s extra special with our precious boy,” you place his hands on your bump.

Your second son starts kicking at his father’s hands. Mat stares at your bump, eyes growing teary.

“We’re going to have two sons. I can’t believe we have kids and they’re so perfect. Thank you,” he kisses your lips again, a tear or two hitting your skin.

“I love you,” you wipe away his tears.

You think this is your favorite Valentine’s Day. Mat and Nolan woke you up with so many flowers and pastries. Mat watched your favorite rom coms with you throughout the day- even crying with you during some parts. Then you all got dressed up in black tie attire just to sit in the dining room to eat, but nothing could’ve been more perfect. You were so content with listening to Mat talk to Nolan and Nolan’s nonsensical replies. Now you’re in the comfort of your bed, Mat, your husband, underneath you after he worshiped your body.

Mat lifts your left hand, kissing your diamond ring and placing your hand over his heart.

“You’re my girl forever,” he whispers and shuts his eyes before more tears fall.

“Maty, I thought I was supposed to be the emotional one?” You tease him but squeal when he pinches your nipple.

“I can’t help it that I’m in love,” he responds and you take a moment to appreciate him. You’re glad that he’s yours.

Valentine’s Day with all the kids (2030)

“Daddy?” Nolan pulls at Mat’s hand to get his attention.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Is mommy your Valentine?”

“She’s always my Valentine,” Mat answers with a smile, but it starts to fade when he watches Nolan’s face turn solemn.

“Can she be my valentine?” Nolan asks, but his voice is so shy Mat can’t hear what he says.

“What was that? What’s wrong, Nols?” Mat crouches down and runs a hand through his first born’s hair.

“Can mommy be my valentine this year? I just really love her,” Nolan says, his blue eyes wide and so innocent.

“Of course she can. I think mommy would be really happy to be your valentine,” he assures Nolan and feels relieved when he sees Nolan visibly relax.

“Can we go to the store and get her a gift?”

“Yeah, bud, we can.”

On Valentine’s Day, you’re lying down on the sofa with Angel and Sloane cuddled into your sides. The tv is on, one of your favorite movies playing. The sound of the front door opening and Nolan shouting for you makes you smile. You love hearing the noise of the people you love. It’s home and it’s safe.

“Hi, mommy. School was good. I missed you,” Nolan burrows into you, deciding to tell you how his day was before you get to ask. Your heart melts at his affection. Soon, he wouldn’t want your hugs or kisses and the thought makes you sad.

“I missed you more, bub. Where’s daddy?” You push his hair off his forehead and rub at his back.

Nolan looks up at you with a suspicious smile and it makes you laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers, trying and failing to hide his giggles as he runs away.

You sit in confusion, but you don’t think too much about it.

Next thing you know, you see your husband and son walk back into the living room, and their arms are full with flowers and gift bags. You sit up, carefully setting Sloane in your lap and make sure you don’t disturb Angel’s nap. Nolan walks up to you with a bouquet almost bigger than he is and a medium sized bag in his hands.

“Mommy, will you be my valentine?” He asks, wide eyes looking into yours as you try not to cry.

“Oh my. Of course, baby. I would love to be your valentine,” you coo, blinking your tears away.

“I love you, mommy! These are for you,” he kisses your cheek and hands you the flowers and gift bag.

“I love you more, Nolie,” you smell your flowers, smiling when you realize they’re all your favorite ones. He obviously had Mat’s help. Speaking of your hockey player husband, you look up at him to see him waiting patiently with gifts in his hands.

“Wow! Nolan this is a lot of candy. I think you’re going to have to help me eat some of it,” you tickle his tummy, earning a laugh from him.

“Okay, but none for daddy,” he says, hands coming up to his mouth as if he’s whispering.

“Hey! I heard that,” Mat intervenes with a lighthearted gasp.

You give Nolan a wink and watch with a smile on your face when he hands the little bears he got specifically for his younger siblings to them. Although Sloane has no idea what he’s saying and Ángel is knocked out, he’s promising to always be the best big brother and to always protect them. Your heart melts at the scene.

“My turn,” Mat walks up to you with his signature crooked smile.

“Let’s see what you got,” you tease, pulling him down into a quick kiss.

“My pretty girl. It’s our 8th Valentine’s Day together and I still love you just as much as I did in the first, if not more. No, I know I love you so much more. I actually feel pretty nervous right now,” he nervously giggles, running a hand through his hair.

Your heartbeat starts to race. He makes you nervous, too. You squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue. It takes you back to when he proposed to you. He has the same lovesick look in his eyes.

“I’m glad you are my forever valentine,” he finishes, pressing another kiss to your lips. This time it’s more passionate and long lasting.

“I love you, Barzy. It’s you and me forever. Plus the littles,” you whisper into your kiss.

“Open your presents before I cry,” he hands you another beautiful bouquet of flowers and two gift bags.

The first gift bag contains a beautifully wrapped jewelry box. When you open it to find a sparkly, diamond encrusted ‘13’ pendant necklace placed in the box, you laugh. Recently your dainty necklace broke, so Mat joked around that he’d get you another one that’s bigger. You thought he was playing, but the medium sized necklace sparkles at you. It’s beautiful and you know it’s something you’ll never take off.

“Babe. This is so pretty. I love it and I can’t wait to wear it,” you pull him down to sit next you, over his distance and needing him against you.

“You have one more,” he gives you a bag and it’s extra light.

You pull out a piece of Nolan’s construction paper. There are two sets of inked footprints with scribbles at the top. It doesn’t take you long to realize they’re Sloane and Angel’s feet mimicking the shape of a heart. The small scribbles at the top say, “Happy Valentine’s Day, mommy. We love you,” and you know Mat probably put the pen in their tiny hands and moved it for them.

Tears finally slip down your cheeks even though you hastily wipe them away.

“This is too cute. The best gift ever, and then Nolan asking me to be his valentine. Did you tell him to do that?” You cry into Mat’s shoulder while he rubs your back.

“No, it was all his idea. Yesterday he had me take him to the store and everything. He even asked me if he could ask you. It was the sweetest thing ever,” he whispers into your hair.

“He gets that from you. God, I love you all. Thank you for making this like the best Valentine’s Day ever. I love you so much,” you kiss his jaw in between each word.

“I love you more, baby,” he catches your lips with his.

“I have a little something for you, too,” you pull away and walk to the kitchen, not waiting for his response.

He never wants you to give him gifts, but you do anyway.

You walk back towards him, hands hidden behind your back.

“For you, sir,” you hold out a bouquet of flowers.

Men never get flowers, but you want to change that. Flowers are for everyone. You’re happy you got them when you see Mat’s eyes light up and his smile widen. Nobody knows this, but Mat’s favorite flowers are tulips.

“Baby, stop. These are nice. I love them. I’ve never received flowers before,” he whispers, delicately touching the petals and smiling up at you.

“I know. I just wanted you to feel special for a change. You’re always getting me flowers,” you explain, caressing his cheek.

“You make me feel special everyday,” he kisses your palm.

“One more thing!” You perk up and run off to get his last present.

“No way! Baby, these are so cool,” he jumps around like a little kid as he checks out his new golf clubs that are accented with the islanders’ blue.

“Shower sex later tonight?” You ask in his ear while you give him a hug.

“Duh!” He squeezes you to him, and you feel that familiar giddiness in your entire body.

a/n: Enjoy🩷💋

#mat barzal #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[lotus-pear]

I saw when you said you liked lyric analysis so here is: My rant on why I think Demolition lovers by MCR is one of the most skk coded songs ever

Fyi I'm putting the lyrics in italics

Hand in my, into your icy blues

-chuuya has blue eyes (sometimes ig)

And then I'd say to you “we could take to the highway. With this trunk of ammunition too”

Motorbikes do sometimes have a small trunk at the back, and it be being filled with “ammunition” but no guns makes sense as Chuuya can use gravity manipulation on them like that scene with the helicopter

I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets

Dazai is suicidal but honestly my take on things that he really doesn't want to die alone, and in that context of the story imo if one of them dies the both die in one way or another

I'm trying, I'm trying

To let you know how much you mean to me

In their own twisted way they do care for each other

And after all the things we put each other through

And I would drive on to the end with you

They have put each other through hell, especially Dazai to Chuuya but like I said, the way they care for each other is twisted

A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full

Being for real they both have issues with alcohol

And I feel like there’s nothing left to do but prove myself to you, and we'll keep it running

They are both kinda petty and don't like losing, especially to each other but I feel like it goes deeper than that.

They both want to “prove” themselves to each other, because at heart I think they are too incredibly insecure people trying to love each other

All we are, all we are is bullets, I mean this

They have both time and time again being used as pawns in other people's fights, that what the pm dose, no one cares about them accept each other

You're the only one

Like a bed of rose's

There's a dozen reasons in this gun

I mean, have you seen this official art

Also Chuuya literally shoots Dazai, I know it was the plan and whatever but still

And as we're touching hands, and as we're falling down

Cough cough I'm looking at you dead apple

I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever

Firstly, they make way too much eye homosexual eye contact and secondly

They are forever, in every universe forever in one way or another

And that concludes my very gay rant

OMG SKK SONG ANALYSIS??????? THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS WAS SUCH A JOY TO READ THIS FITS THEM SO WELL😭😭😭

#lotus’s asks

[nonexistent-introvert]

Changes (Paper Stars pt 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Content: Mentions of Anxiety (sry for inaccuracies) domestic Joel, flashbacks, domestic fluff, Joel being a dad, Joel's wedding

A/N: Went a little overboard on this chapter, Joel deserves some comfort and love.

Part 1 Part 2

  This was wrong on so many levels. Joel wasn’t supposed to be standing here, sweating and shifting from toe to toe at the thought of marrying her. He wasn’t supposed to have given up his dream of being a musician, or his spot in college and he definitely wasn’t supposed to be looking out for you, staring anxiously at the seat beside Tommy that he and Tommy had agreed to leave, just in case you decided to come. 

   He had tried to make it work, studying in the day while taking up multiple part time jobs. It was hell, having to commit his time to both was exhausting, not to mention the extra transport fees he had to pay to be getting around from one place to another. Eventually, he decided to quit college despite only being there for only a few weeks or so and focus fully on the job he had gotten as an apprentice carpenter. It wasn’t much, but his boss was understanding enough to have taken him under his wing, Joel learnt to be grateful for the little things. 

    Tommy was shifting in his seat too, tugging on the tie around his neck that acted more like a noose. Beads of sweats trickling down his face from the hot Texas weather, the whole town being packed into the small church didn’t help a single bit. His eyes kept shifting to the door and the seat beside him, deep down he knew you won’t be coming but judging from his brother’s constant gaze on the chair beside him, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to let the glimmer of hope burn for a little while more. 

    Lorraine stood before him, Joel’s hands were sweating. The words of the officiant fell on deaf ears, he could hardly breathe in this suit of his. He briefly heard Lorraine say “I do” and he felt his heart pace significantly more. Sucking in breaths through his clenched teeth in an attempt to calm himself down. “Joel?” Lorraine called out, her eyes looking at him expectantly. Shit. The whole town stared at him, all awaiting his response. Joel clenched and unclenched his fists, his eyes darting to all corners of the room in his frenzy. He looked at the seat next to Tommy again. There you were, a small relieved exhale escaped him, you had a smile on your face, dressed in a beige dress he knew you had complained about hours before, your legs were crossed. He missed you, you were exactly how he remembered you. He felt himself calming down, his breaths evening out. However, Joel made the grave mistake of blinking, and the image of you sitting next to Tommy disappeared, vanished. Joel decided then it was time to accept reality, you weren’t there. 

    “I do,” Joel vowed as a round of applause erupted from the crowd.

     The burden on his heart only grew heavier. 

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    “If you don’t want food poisoning, I suggest you bring something to Joel’s,” Tommy advised over the phone, you laughed. “You’re exaggerating.” “I swear, my deepest respects to Sarah who had to stomach his food for a few years before I decided that maybe he deserved to know the truth.” Tommy said, you could visualise him shivering at the thought of Joel’s food already. “Fine, fine. I’ll head over early, I’ll cook instead.” You offered, Tommy let out a horrified gasp. “I don’t know if that would make a big difference actually. You and Joel…” You huffed at Tommy, “Watch your words Tommy, maybe I’ll sneak in a lethal dose of poison just for yours.” Tommy laughed over the phone, “Don’t kill each other alright?” 

     Joel was surprised to see you two hours earlier than the supposed time for dinner. His eyes dropped down to the bag of groceries in your hands. “Tommy said you couldn’t cook.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about killing Tommy. He still shifted to the side to let you in nevertheless. He walked into the kitchen, watching you unpack the groceries. You opened the fridge on your left and Joel mentally cringed at the look on your face upon seeing the fridge. “Thank god I decided to buy groceries here,” you told him, staring at the fridge that was filled with Tupperware of leftovers, sweet drinks, and beer. “I’ll handle it.” Joel offered from beside you, taking the groceries out from your bag. “No.” You pointed a finger at him, “Today, you’ll be my assistant. Prove yourself worthy of making food and maybe I’ll let you do something yourself the next time.” Joel scoffed, “I can make food perfectly fine. Tommy was exaggerating.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’ll take Tommy’s word for it considering the last time we cooked together you burnt half the food including the spaghetti! How do you even burn spaghetti? And this-” You gestured to the fridge. “This is not giving you any points whatsoever.” “That was a decade ago, maybe more.” Joel reminded. You handed Joel the potatoes, “Here, deal with this.” Despite his earlier arguments, he still obediently shaved and cut the potatoes. 

    You washed your hands, drying your hands on the towel as you poured the bowl of mushrooms into the soup that was simmering on the stove. “Where’s your washroom?” Joel looked up from the vegetables he was preparing, “Take the one in my room upstairs, I think Sarah is showering in the one downstairs.” You widened your eyes, you haven’t caught sight of the young girl ever since you stepped in. “Sarah’s home?” Joel nodded, “Was in her room, napping or whatever, probably has those headphones over her ears when she came down. Could be screaming for help and she wouldn’t hear me.” Joel complained, “You sound like an old dad.” You teased. “I am a dad.” Joel deadpanned. You shook your head at him before ascending the stairs, “Please don’t burn down the kitchen.” Joel scrunched his face up childishly at you. 

    You stretched upon exiting the washroom in his room. Glancing around the room out of curiosity. His bed was neatly made, a picture of him and Sarah stood proudly on the shelf. A laundry basket that was overflowing sat near the door, but what caught your attention was the pill bottles sitting on the night stand. You carefully picked them up, your heart dropping at the sight of the labels. Anxiety, high blood pressure and gastric ulcers, all that may be a result of excessive stress. Joel had always carried his burdens on those broad shoulders of his, even when the burdens get too heavy for him he’ll never admit it, preferring to crush himself under the weight then let someone share his burdens. 

    You ran down the stairs, barely stopping in time to prevent yourself from running straight into the kitchen counter. Your soup must have been boiling by now, Joel simply looked over to you. “I turned off the fire already, it was boiling.” He proudly announced. You gave him a pat on his back, “Nice one Miller.” 

   Sarah’s gasp caught both you and Joel’s attention. Sarah ran forward, the headphones that Joel mentioned hanging around her neck. “You’re here!” Sarah glanced over to the soup that was simmering and inhaled the aroma of it. “I knew it smelt too good for it to be Dad’s cooking.” Sarah laughed, Joel rolled his eyes while you let out a childish “I told you so.” Sarah hopped onto the counter and within a split second Joel was already carrying her down the counter. “No sitting on countertops in the kitchen. Go wait in the living room or something.” Joel scolded. “Dad, I’m twelve! I won’t sit too near to fire or whatever you’re worried about.” Joel shook his head, a firm no. She pouted at him, before turning her attention back to you. “Go wait in the living room, think Uncle Tommy is on his way.” You told her. She beamed up at you, when Joel started, “Can I also know why you brought those damned headphones into the shower with you?” “I forgot to take them off before I left my room.” Sarah said, Joel let out a sarcastic laugh, “Forgot? How do you forget that a headset is sitting on your head!” “I was too immersed in the music ok?” Sarah excused, Joel eyes widened, prepared to rebut when he was interrupted by the knocks on the door. “Uncle Tommy!” Sarah shouted, rushing to open the door for Tommy. 

    “Smells too good for Joel already!” Tommy exclaimed the moment he spotted the both of you in the kitchen. “Aw, Sarah said the same exact thing!” You pointed out to Joel who rolled his eyes at you. “I still brought Pizza, just in case your food doesn’t deliver on the taste front.” Tommy said, earning him a punch to his shoulder to which Joel cackled at. “Ouch, anyways I remembered. Pepperoni pizza, your favourite. You’ve always been into the boring old flavours.” Tommy remarked, glancing at Joel. You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes on the pan. Joel furrowed his eyebrows, “I am not boring.” Joel defended. Tommy raised his eyebrows, “I’m not into you .” You defended a little too quickly. Tommy smirked, deciding to let you off with the bright blush on your face that he’ll never let you live down. “Yeah, I never said you were boring. I said she always like boring stuff.” Joel dropped his gaze, “ I didn’t hear that part. I just saw you looking at me when you said that.” Tommy laughed, looking between the both of you who seemed to be getting along well. 

    “Did you go to culinary school while you’re away or something?” Tommy remarked, taking yet another mouthful of food. “It’s yummy!” Sarah complimented, “Hey slow down, don’t choke.” You adviced, watching her take another serving of soup from the pot. You watched Joel’s reaction expectantly, he wasn’t as verbal as the others but the way his eyes twinkled as he looked up told you enough. “Its good.” He simply said. You beamed up at them, “I’m glad.” 

   It was a great day. It was just a simple dinner that left you feeling very satisfied with the day. You collapsed against your couch, feeling very bloated from the heavy dinner you just had. It was close to 1am, Sarah insisted on a few board games that lasted too long. After which, Tommy had scrambled home to hopefully get enough sleep for tomorrow which was a Monday. You helped Joel clean up and when you left, he was already in his sweatpants, prepared to retire the night. 

    Imagine your surprise when you looked out of your window from your bedroom and saw Joel sitting on his front porch, his guitar in his capable hands. You frowned at the sight, Joel looked absolutely exhausted when you left an hour ago, even telling you that he had a long day to prepare for, yet here he was, strumming his guitar. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, making your way over to Joel’s front porch. 

    You could see it in his eyes that were in a daze and the sweat that was still evident on his face. Something was wrong. His movements stopped abruptly, you could have sworn he had jumped at the sight of you. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Joel apologised immediately. You shook your head, “Was just wondering why you were still awake.” Joel smiled sadly, “I could say the same to you.” Joel stood up, attempting to offer you his seat, but you refused and opted for sitting on the railing of his porch. “I just have a messed up sleep schedule.” You laughed, Joel smiled. “Really should fix that, ain’t good to stay up too late.” He nagged, leaning forward to lean his guitar against the wall. That was when you caught sight of it, a locket around his neck, one that made your eyes widen at the fact that he still had it. 

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     You fidgeted with the locket around your neck. Joel was holding onto the camera he had gotten for his birthday, taking pictures of the natural scenery all around him. It was only the two of you, Tommy refused to wake up at dawn just to hike and catch the sunrise. You were sitting on a bench, one of the few benches that was present on this route, watching Joel excitedly snap pictures. “Since when did you wear necklaces?” Joel remarked, finally putting his camera down as he took a seat next to you. “It’s a locket Joel.” Joel gently picked up the locket from your hands and opened it. “An empty one.” He pointed out, “Aren’t you suppose to put a picture in it or something?” You pulled the locket away from his hands, “I can’t find a good enough picture.” You complained, staring off into the distance. He grinned, a mischievous spark in his eye. “No-” You rejected but Joel was already moving closer to you, one hand holding up his camera, “3,2,1” He counted down, and you gave in, smiling while putting a hand around his neck to push him into the small picture. Joel beamed proudly, pressing around on his camera as he admired the photo. “Let me see-” You requested to which he raised the camera high above his head, “Nope, it’s a surprise.” You rolled your eyes at his antics. “I need your locket.” He demanded, sticking his hand out. “Joel Miller, are you trying to rob me?” You accused, he scoffed, taking matters into his own hands as he pulled your hair aside and took the locket off your neck. 

   “Trust me on this.” He said. 

   A few days have passed when Joel finally returned to you with the locket in hand. You took it from him surprised, “Open it.” He said. You looked at him suspiciously before opening it, a gasp escaping you. The picture in the locket was none other than the picture you had taken with him that day, his face basically touching yours as the both of you smiled warmly in the photo, the sunrise from behind you created the perfect lighting to highlight the features on both your faces. “Pulled some strings.” Joel awkwardly scratched the back of his head. You smiled at him, finally solving the question that was bothering you for the longest time ever since his birthday. “Joel, this is the perfect gift! Happy birthday!” You shoved it back to him. Joel’s jaw dropped, “Do you not like it?”, “I love it, that’s why I want you to have it.” You replied, Joel looked at you with a questioning gaze. “Joel, I have been struggling to find you a gift ever since your birthday, you said I didn’t have to but I still felt inclined to. I bought the locket, hoping to give it to you but I chickened out, thought maybe you wouldn’t like wearing a locket. Then you took it from me and made this, it’s perfect. So take it Joel.” You explained. Joel glanced at the locket in your hands, his face unreadable. “Or you can don’t, if you don’t like it then-.” You quickly tried to hide the locket back into your pocket. Joel turned around, his back facing you. “I’ll take it, help me?” He said, pointing at his neck. You grinned, “It’s an honour Joel.” Placing the locket around his neck. 

   Joel wore it around everywhere, an action that made you feel touched. However, you didn’t notice when he stopped wearing it either. 

============================

   Joel’s eyes followed your gaze, glancing down at the locket around his neck. He smiled, delicately opening it to show you the very same picture from when you were teenagers. “You kept it.” You stated. He smiled warmly, “Of course I did.” You bit on your lip, “I don’t think I saw you wearing it just now.” Joel shooked his head, studying your face as he contemplated if he should tell you the truth. “I wear it when I can’t sleep.” He admitted, thinking back on his sleep that had caused him to be sitting here in the first place.

    Joel shot up from his bed, clutching onto the sheets of his bed. His breathing rapid and uneven, his eyes widening. His right-hand clutches onto his chest, feeling the racing heart rate under his palms. His left hand reached out for the pill bottles on his nightstand. In his exhaustion, he had forgotten to take his pills. Joel swallowed his pills at one go, stumbling out of bed to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of water which was exceptionally tough with his shaking hands. The haunting thoughts getting softer in his mind as the pills took effect. 

   “How could you! She’s only 17!”

   “Joel, you have to take responsibility.”

   “Joel, you need to work hard, be a man.”

   “Joel, I can’t do this anymore.”

   “I had enough, I’m sorry.” 

   The words from his past bubbling up in his mind, thoughts that made his throat constrict that he has to gasp for air. He closed his eyes forcefully, trying his best to block out the thoughts as much as he could as he sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, curling himself up. 

  When he finally felt that it had passed, he stood himself up, crashing into his cabinet when a light dizziness caught up with him. He sat on the couch, pulling open the drawer in the coffee table, to retrieve the locket he had kept safely in a jewelry box. He opened it again, feeling himself calm down at the sight of your bright smile. He then wore it around his neck before bringing his guitar out with him to the front porch, hoping that it will comfort him. 

  ================================

   Your heart broke for the man before you. Joel used to be the most decisive and confident man you knew. Maybe it proved that despite the strong facade that Joel put up, he was still human after all. “If I felt uneasy or anything, I’ll wear it and it’s like some kind of charm, I always sleep soundly after that.” Joel laughed, the idea of him, clutching onto a locket for dear life hoping to have a good sleep. It was comical. You drummed your fingers along the edge of the railing, your gaze fixated on a street lamp across the street. “I didn’t mean to intrude but- I can’t help but notice the pills.” Joel wiped his face with his hands, it was a side of him that he rather hide. “I’m getting help, burns a hole right through my wallet.” He chuckled, you frowned at him. “You only go back when you run out of pills huh?” Joel nodded, you frowned at him, hating how well you knew him. You didn’t say anything else except waltz straight into his house like you owned it. When he went back in while resting his guitar on its usual stand, you walked out of the kitchen with the alcoholic drinks from his fridge. “The next time you need one of these, you come over and tell me. Depending on the situation, I’ll give it to you and we’ll talk if you need to drown in your sorrows.” Joel smiled, he was always so used to taking care of everyone, it has been a while since someone worried and cared for him. 

    “Yes ma’am” He said, trying his best to stifle a yawn. “Goodnight Joel.” His eyes widened, reaching out to you before letting his hand fall limp at his side. “Goodnight” he replied instead. 

   With the locket in his palm and the thoughts of you, Joel fell asleep with a soft smile that night. 

#joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader

[itbe-jess]

Rating my Raymen from favorite to least favorite!

Sparks Of Hope- 100/10!

When Nintendo gave Rayman his comeback, they did everything perfectly! *Mwah* 👌 His design is so fresh and expressive. His face looks very kissable. And his hair... so floofy! 💗 Personality wise, he is possibly the most relatable Rayman of all. I mean, have you looked at him? He gives off so many depressed, tired millennial vibes. Despite that, he still has his enthusiasm for adventure. He also kept his kind heart, with a little adorable shyness to boot. Man, his voice is so comforting, I could listen to it all day. Thank you, Mr. Gasman.

Props to Nintendo for the recurring gag of Rayman's appendages coming apart. I love it when his limblessness is rooted in humor. What amazes me more is how this is the first Rabbids game that allows Rayman to perform his iconic feats, since he never did any of those in the previous Rabbid titles. There is nothing I don't like about this Rayman! It's so warm. He is the living definition of quality art! No, he is art!

Rayman 3- 10/10

This is the game that gave Rayman his stunning new design that became the preferable fan favorite. (By the way, Rayman 3 is the best Rayman game. I said so, and I don't give a fuck on what others say.) He's funky, silly, and laid-back, yet still takes his job seriously, while being a loving friend we all wished we had. The over the top cartoony physics in his character certainly brings out a laughable charm, too. I'd say this Rayman is SEGA's answer to Sonic The Hedgehog.

The steady blend in his personality, paired with a badass looking design, truly makes Rayman stand out as a memorable video game character for all ages. Just looking at him, you know he's very welcoming. David Gasman did an excellent job providing his voice. He was even good enough to revise his role as the limbless wonder in SOH, cuz no other voice actor can do it better. Dare I say it: R3 Ray is pretty handsome, too. HUGE FEATURES.

Rayman 2- 9/10

Sweet precious boy with a squishy baby face, I just wanna squeeze, and doesn't hold one bad bone in his body. (Does Rayman even have bones?) For some reason, he looks more cute in low poly than any of the high rendered art. I think it's because the outdated graphics make him look like a cuddly teddy bear. He's just a little guy. But under all that cuteness, he's a determined hero who never goes back on his word, and will go through hell just for you. Purest man alive.

However, he's a little too nice for his own good. That's his entire character in the game, which is the only thing I could nitpick. I would like to see him show some anger, or deliver sarcastic one-liners, but only centered on his earnest side. To be fair, the game does exploit on his playful side a little. He dances with Teensies, plays basketball with his torso, and performs somersaults on Clark the Giant. Rayman M/Arena even highlighted his playfulness more.

The Animated Series- 8.5/10

R2 Rayman's cartoon counterpart, but with a more fleshed out personality. In my opinion, Rayman himself is one of the only watchable moments in this series. He's your stereotypical rebellious teen with a no-bullshit attitude, and will slap you with a good dose of sass. But at the same time, he still cares for others around him, and has shown to be quite considerate, as well as a wise leader. Billy West did a decent job voicing Rayman. I'm gonna be honest: The broken Boston accent is very amusing to listen to. lol Reminds me of myself, since I too speak with a broken Boston accent. And since Billy West is autistic, I officially claim AS Rayman to be autistic as well! 🙌

Sadly, as much as it pains me, I had to put him behind R2 Rayman. Despite being the titular character, the series doesn't offer much of him. It rarely focuses on Rayman at all. If you removed him entirely from the show, nothing will change. The only time Rayman ever used his powers is in the second episode, and a little bit in the first. He's got so much potential, only to have it wasted. They did my boy dirty like that.

Rayman 1- 8/10

This little lad was Cuphead before Cuphead. (Their games have similar aspects, if you think about it) What can I say about him? Well, he's such a pure child, so small and cozy, who is willing to leap into danger with a smile on his face. I wanna hold him and spoil him. Give him dessert before dinner. The most interesting factor to admire about him is how he's meant to represent an old Golden Age cartoon, courtesy of Tex Avery's inspiration. Aside from being cute and wacky, he's a good fella who will make friends with some of his enemies. He also tends to have hidden depths, like painting and singing show tunes.

I'm sorry for ranking him very low on the list, but there aren't that many insights to his character. He doesn't talk (much), we don't see him properly interact with other characters, and the game isn't heavily emphasized on storytelling. The plot is just free Electoons, and kick baddie ass. I will give credit to the edutainment games, for expanding more on R1 Rayman's character.

Raving Rabbids- 6.3/10

Here, we are given a more softer approach of Rayman. The RR trilogy portrays our limbless wonder as an awkward cutie who just wants to indulge a peaceful relaxing break, while still having his determination and heroic spirit. He will wear a dress to a death defying arena course, and he's a damn good dancer. He also tries to be a good uncle to Globox's kids. It's very satisfying to watch Rayman do mundae stuff, although in RRR 2, it only depends on who you're playing as.

Unfortunately, it's safe to admit that this Rayman is a mere joke. Most of the time, he's portrayed as a coward, lets the rabbids walk all over him, and doesn't think before his actions. He spent 15 days being the bunnies' bitch before he eventually escaped, when he could've just flown out of his cell, or fought the bunnies off! (That was the original premise of the game, after all!) He forgets to save Globox's kids in the end, which made his escape plan turn out to be a complete waste, then ends up getting stuck in a burrow before being eaten by sheep. We don't know if he stopped the bunnies in RRR 2, although TV Party implied that he failed. Needless to say, it's not his fault. He was intentionally made to look bad just so the rabbids could shine. Fuck you, Ubisoft.

UbiArts- 4/10

Although the games did really poorly in sales and soon reduced to dumb mobile games later on, there's no denying that this Rayman would eventually spring back into stardom. Inspired by his original 2D counterpart, we're introduced to an adorkable, careless adventurer, with an attitude that will light up your worst moods. He's aesthetically wacky, and knows how to have a good time.

As fun of a character he may be, he's a little weak in depth. So far, all he can be is wacky and happy. He's happy all the time. Not to mention he's too immature. I know some of you will fight back against this argument with "But Rayman acts exactly how he did in his first game!" Well, yes, and no. R1 Rayman is pretty wacky and childish, but he had variety; Showing anger, fear, friendliness, classiness, and his wackiness is up to old-school Looney Tunes level. Whereas UbiArts' Rayman is one dimensional. It's even worse that the playable characters have the same personality and fighting strategy as him.

Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix- 2/10

I was worried that Rayman turned out to be a greedy propagandist who has no shame in working under a corrupted system. As I found out, much to my relief, he's not a villain. Just an ordinary nice guy who wants to stand in the spotlight. All he wanted was to do some good in his life. He really means no harm in his actions. Because Eden handed him his stardom on a silver platter, the best he could do was be loyal towards them, making it easy for Eden to manipulate him. Once he discovered the dark truth Eden was burying, he then decided to fix what his influence had done. I really sympathize with him. I feel his pain. I admire that his heart is in the right place. He has every right to let out all his bottled up feelings.

He's a good character. But the problem is he's not a good character as Rayman. He doesn't even feel like Rayman at all. He's only Rayman in name and appearance. The rest of his character is BoJack Horseman clashed with Shadow The Hedgehog. The idea of Rayman swearing, drinking, and trying drugs is fun, but he's so oversaturated with edge, I can hardly recognize him, especially when he wears sleeves. I'm also not a big fan of his design. If "Ramon" wants to kill a group of fascists for using him, he could at least do it the more traditional Rayman way! Fuck the guns! Just beat them to death! Whip out the ol' lockjaw! Slice and dice 'em with helicopter hair! If you like this version of Rayman, I gradually respect that, and will support you. This Rayman just isn't for me.

Rayman And Les Moldies- 0/10.

Kill it. I don't care if this is the only piece of artwork we have so far on the show. Kill it.

#Rayman #video games #cartoons #Rayman 1 #Rayman 2 #Rayman 3 #Rayman Origins #Rayman Legends #Rayman Raving Rabbids #Rayman In The Phantom Show #Rayman The Animated Series #Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix #I do not intend to offend you. These are all based on my opinion. #Please respect them.

[ronancexists]

Hello everyone, and welcome to Day 4 of Ronancetober! I hope y'all have been enjoying everything I've put out so far, because I've got another one coming your way! This one's got a healthy dose of Platonic with a capital P! Stobin, because those two are the best thing that could've happened to Stranger Things aside from Byler and Ronance becoming canon. It's also got a tiny bit of Stonathan as well, but it's only a brief mention. Anyways, here's my submission for day 4, and I hope y'all like it!

Day 4: Kiss

Robin sighed as she glanced up at the clock for what had to be the umpteenth time within the past five minutes.

“Robbie, if you sigh one more time I’m going to chuck this at you,” Steve threatened, looking at his best friend with exasperation written all over his face, the thing he was about to throw being one of the many VHS tapes he was currently putting back on the shelves.

It hadn’t been super busy today, though Keith neglected to do any of the actual work involved with being a manager whenever he worked with one or both of them. She and Steve knew more about the job than he did. The two of them were essentially running the place, but Keith had the official name tag stating he was in charge.

They had managed to convince him that Steve would most definitely muck something up if Robin weren’t there with him to keep an eye on him, which is how they ended up working most, if not all, of their shifts together, without Keith's supervision. It worked out perfectly for the two of them, because that meant neither one of them had to do anything on their own. It didn’t hurt that it gave Robin even more opportunities to poke fun at Steve.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my suffering bothering you? I’ll be sure to keep it down in the future.”

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin smiled brightly, her nose crinkling in happiness as it always did when she managed to rile him up.

After doing a quick lap around the store, Robin determined it was safe. She hopped up on the counter, legs swinging back and forth as she watched Steve stack the tapes on the shelves.

“You know,” Steve grunted as he finally reached the top shelf in one of the many isles, placing the tape down as gently as possible. “You could help me instead of just sitting there, watching me do all of the work.”

Robin couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped as soon as Steve had finished talking. “You’re one to talk. You left me to rewind all those tapes,” she gestured to the ones stacked up in his arms. “So you could have a make-out session with Jonathan in the back room.”

“Shh!” Steve hushed, eyes darting around frantically to search for prying ears.

“Relax, dingus. I already took a lap. I wouldn’t have said anything if we had customers.”

“Well you could warn a guy next time,” he grumbled.

“Such a baby.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her in response.

“Who are we calling a baby?”

The nineteen-year-old had to stifle his laughter as Robin practically turned into a puddle where she had been sitting at the sight of Nancy. He knew after everything with Vecna that Robin had developed what she deemed was a minor crush on Nancy, though he would label it as infatuation. Regardless, Robin hadn’t been able to stop babbling about the girl, everything about her crush on Vickie simply flying out the window after the events during the school year, where she had gotten to know Nancy from Nancy herself rather than through all of the stories Steve had about her.

Steve couldn’t blame Robin for falling for Nancy even if he wanted to. Hell, he probably understood the enigma that was Nancy Wheeler better than anyone. After all, he had been lucky enough to date her before everything with the Upside Down transpired. He was brave enough to acknowledge that he had hurt Nancy badly, and she was brave enough to acknowledge that she had hurt him as well. The two of them had a long, rough talk about everything that had transpired between them, and they came to the conclusion that they were much better off as friends than they ever were as a couple.

Needless to say, Steve was quite surprised when Nancy had confided in him that she was crushing on Robin, and crushing quite hard on her at that. He’d had to hold in his laughter when she said she couldn’t discern if Robin was into her the same way. He thought it was quite obvious, but he supposed that could be because he knew Robin better than Robin knew herself. Plus, if Nancy was too worried about not making her own crush apparent, he figured that would occupy most of her attention, enough for her not to notice the heart eyes Robin was constantly shooting her way.

He was between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, if he told one girl how the other felt, it could result in them getting together and earn himself a pat on the back. On the other hand, the girl he told could become furious at him for revealing the other's secret, and when the girl he told told the other girl, he’d probably have two very angry, very determined, and very capable of hurting him women gunning for his head. It was a win-lose situation, so he resolved to keep his mouth shut. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t intervene in other ways.

“Robbie?”

“What’s up, Stevie?”

“Could you grab me the ladder from the back room?”

Robin arched an eyebrow at him, internally pleading for him not to actually be interrupting her lovely conversation with Nancy. Times with the other girl were far and few between, especially since she had begun working almost everyday to save up so she could move the fuck out of this town.

“Please?” He asked, turning the puppy dog eyes and everything. He knew she could never say no to him when he used the puppy dog eyes.

“Ughhhh. Fine,” she grumbled, apologizing to Nancy before turning around and hopping behind the counter, heading for the backroom.

“You should just tell her, ya know,” Steve said as soon as Robin was out of earshot, placing the tapes down on one of the bare shelves and walking towards Nancy.

Nancy scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“I’m serious, Nance. She’s ready to leave everything behind. We’ve defeated Vecna, we got rid of the Upside Down for good. She doesn’t have a reason to stay.” The words unless you give her one remained unspoken, but they both heard it loud and clear.

“I know,” Nancy muttered, her gaze bouncing around everywhere but at Steve, finally landing behind the counter on the door to the backroom, where Robin was.

“Go,” Steve said quietly, squeezing her arm. “I’ll cover up here.”

Nancy grasped his hand in hers. “Wish me luck.”

He nodded, watching as Nancy walked behind the counter. “You won’t need it,” he muttered, a wide grin settling onto his face as he shot a fist in the air, overwhelmed with joy that he had actually done it. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the look on Jonathan’s face when he told him he'd won their bet.

“Robin?” Nancy called out, unable to hide the quakiness of her voice.

“Nancy, thank goodness. I can’t find this freaking ladder anywhere. Come help me look,” Robin said, turning to look at Nancy when she didn’t get a response. “Hey, is everything ok? You’re looking a bit pale. And you’re trembling too. Oh God, you aren’t sick, are you? Cause if you are, I can get Steve to drive you home. I’ll come over with soup and ice cream and your favorite movies as soon as I’m done with my shift. We can lay in bed and watch them in your room together. Or I don’t have to stay. I can just drop it off for you and—”

Robin was cut off when Nancy rushed forward, pressing their lips together in an urgent and desperate kiss. Nancy pulled away when Robin didn’t reciprocate, dread slowly filling her chest when the taller girl simply stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Shit, I knew this was a bad idea. I’m so sorry, Robin. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. I-I’ll leave you alone,” Nancy said, turning to walk away, stopping when Robin’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. “Rob, what—”

Robin tugged on Nancy’s arm until the other girl was facing her, a smile threatening to bloom as her eyes shined with happiness. “Did you mean it?”

“What?” Nancy asked, breathless.

“The kiss. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it, Robin. Why—”

Nancy gasped in surprise as Robin brushed their lips together, eyes fluttering shut as Robin’s hands settled on her waist. She moaned when the taller girl pulled on her hips until they were flush against one another. She reached up, tangling her hands in Robin’s hair, loving the feeling of the soft, curly strands between her fingers.

Robin flicked her tongue against the seam of Nancy’s lips, groaning in pure delight as Nancy’s lips parted, allowing her access to the other girl’s mouth. She started walking Nancy backwards until Nancy’s back was pressed against the door, their mouths never parting.

“Rob-Robin,” Nancy whimpered, a strangled groan leaving her lips when Robin broke their kiss off, only to begin trailing kisses down her neck. She tilted her head, grasping Robin’s hair tightly to hold her in place as she nipped and sucked at her pulse point.

“God, Nancy. You smell delicious,” Robin husked in her ear.

“Kiss me,” Nancy panted.

Robin didn’t need to be told twice. The two of them moaned as their mouths met once again, tongues and teeth clashing together in a messy, passionate kiss. Gradually, the kiss slowed down, ending with Robin sucking Nancy’s lower lip into her mouth, releasing it with a pop. She pressed their foreheads together, unable to hide her massive grin as she looked into Nancy’s eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Really?” Nancy inquired, her hands splayed across the back of Robin’s neck, thumbs rubbing up and down in a soothing manner. “Me too.”

The taller girl stared at Nancy in disbelief. “Wait, seriously?”

Nancy laughed, eyes sparkling with delight. “Seriously,” she confirmed.

“Wow,” Robin whispered, completely in awe of the woman in front of her. “I can’t believe Nancy Wheeler is into me. Me, of all the people in Hawkins. Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“You aren’t dreaming,” Nancy whispered, standing on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to Robin’s lips.

“Nancy Wheeler is into me,” Robin repeated, a dreamy look on her face.

Nancy shook her head in amusement. “You’re such an idiot, Robin Buckley.”

“But I’m your idiot. I mean, if you want me to be. If not, then just let me know so I can begin working on mending my broken heart. Because I don’t think I could handle it if this was just you experimenting or doing it because of a dare or some shit like that.”

“It’s nothing like that. I like you, Robin. More than all of those people I’ve dated in the past.”

“Even Steve?”

“Even Steve,” Nancy confirmed. “In fact, I’d like to ask if you, Robin James Buckley, would do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“The honor would be all mine, Nancy Anne Wheeler.”

They sealed the deal with a kiss, as they would with everything from that point forward.

#ronancetober #ronancetober2023 #ronancetober 2023 #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance ficlet #ronance fanfiction #ronance fic #with a side of platonic stobin #as in #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates stobin #codependent stobin #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin brotp #qpr stobin #queerplatonic stobin #tiny bit of stonathan #but not rlly #stranger things

[himbo-in-limbo]

Kure Rain x s/o Rant! (New season spoilers)

[tw gore n bloody stuff mentioned]

In hype of the new season (that I literally just finished binge watching a couple days ago)

It got me thinking of my mans

That crazy bastard that I love sm Kure Raian

(I'm so fuckin mad about what was supposed to be his big fight when the coup happened)

Anyways anytime I read a fic of Raian x reader it's always the same-ish thing of the reader not fully loving the sheer brutality that Raian is

I can't be the only one that gets excited seeing him covered in blood! Like dawg if I saw him all nice n bloody like that with a sexy smile comin at me all nonchalant

Like "Hey baby~ did you like the bloodbath?" I'm jumping on him and making out right then n there..

I wanna be covered in the same blood ya feel me? (That's TMI probably..)

It's probably bc I'm a fan of gore or something but like you gotta understand that killing is not only his job ITS HIS PASSION

And him being an asshole is also part of it, sure you can try n convince him to not FULLY kill someone but honestly I'd say you have a 1% chance of succeeding...

It'd have to be a solid good reason tho

Not just cuz your his partner...

Even so! Odds are the person he's messing with is a stranger to you 😭 (if your not into him killing random ppl then maybe not be in a relationship with him)

He has few morals...which align with his assassin fams code but he's just a morally grey character

That's what's so hot about him honestly

You can't ever really predict who he'll spare and for what reason...

But you get to see his fine ass just deal with grown ass men like nothing is a treat all in it's own

Hell we don't even know how he'd act in a relationship bc he hardly ever shows interest in anyone like that! He likes scarring people to hell tho

So I'd wager if you "end up with him" expect it to be a big ol situationship...

It's best to not put labels on it bc if you pressure him with that he looks like the type to leave...

And even if you are sick of it! Just tell him up front that he can either make it official or you'll leave!

That might make him realize that he has something genuine with you OR y'all just break it off and you can find yourself a better partner

Bc lets face it 😭 he's....not the best

His familys great tho I bet they'd be all over you

Especially if you're cool with reproducing an heir 💀

If not hey their just shocked he was able to find ANYONE that would "date" him

Like really? Him? Okay...

Raian doesn't strike me as the type to care much if you leave him, tho if you did have a profound impact on him

I think he'd stalk you for a bit...you'd never know he's there btw

He'd totally stalk the hell outta your new partner tho...and if their no good he'll kill em with much thought..

He dose care in his own way :D it's just bat shit crazy

I feel like If Raian did have a canonical partner they'd have to be a bit cooky themselves ya know? 😭

N yeah he might not say much but he dose better expressing his feelings through acts of service or just in general sleeping with you

Bc again we haven't seen him interact with anyone like that or show interest at all!

So odds are him sleeping with people is a rare thing! (Demisexual ass...)

But yeah back to him fighting n stuff I feel like he'd be super happy if his partner was also excited about seeing a real blood bath of a fight

Like yeah probably not the best influence on him like that but asdhsjsnskk

Honestly I wouldn't be able to help it

He's like when ppl are in love with the horror icons

You love ppl like ghost face n Jason! There def not gonna stop doing what they do! N their hella crazy!

That's the vibes Raian gives me...

The only thing that's different is, I feel like the more years you spend with him he WILL calm down by like 10% and he may not go off on ppl randomly like when he was younger but he'd still do it on occasion...

#i ran outta fule to finish this sounding more coherent... #but yea i just want a fic where the reader loves raian being raian #just two crazy blood lust lovers #they never outright encourage it but raian knows his partner loves seeing him dominate weaklings... #kure raian #limbo rants #limbo writes #kengan ashura #tw gore #tw blood mentioned

[anexperimentallife]

Yes, this rambles. Many breathing meds are also stimulants, so I'm kinda speeding.

Apparently my (wonderful) regular doctor has some authority at the hospital where we had the ER visit from hell, so everyone who interacted with is is being required to write her a report, and in her words, "disciplinary actions will be taken."

Made sure to tell her about the very cool medical student there who seemed to be the only one listening to us, so hopefully he doesn't get caught in the splash area.

Anyway, yeah. Saw my doctor and the pulmonologist she brought in (super cool and geeky guy--one of us! I hope we become friends), and things are looking up. On a new inhaler in addition to my other meds, and rented that O2 concentrator I posted a pic of earlier, and I can feel the difference.

It was hell trying to get hold of my meds and O2, though. Friday afternoon in Baguio, so taxis were scarce. We walked to the medical supply place only to find they were out of O2 concentrators, then to the big Mercury Drug on Session to find they didn't have my new inhaler. All this with me gasping for breath. So we gave up and decided to just have the stuff delivered in an app.

(And yes, Zoey tried to make me go home and let her deal with it all on her own, but after passing out in front of her and El in the ER the night before I was having separation anxiety, and insisted on not splitting the party.)

I felt a little guilty eating at my favorite chicken place on the way home, but dude, I was ready to collapse--I HAD to eat after all that, and Eleanor and @thesurestthing were hungry, too, plus I had to sit down for a bit after the fruitless running around.

BTW, if you are ever in Baguio--Annie's Kitchen, on the bottom floor of Porta Vaga mall on Session Road in Baguio) is about the same price as McDonald's, but they serve the best grilled chicken meal I have ever had in my life. (When I say this, consider I am sixty years old, have lived on three continents, and eat a LOT of grilled chicken.)

And bc I don't remember if I posted this elsewhere, here's the medical info: I came down with a viral respiratory infection around Oct 9, eventually headed to the ER, then was supposed to follow up with my doc, but put it off bc money. Started to get better, then went downhill to the point at which it opened me up to a bacterial upper and lower respiratory infections, and when I finally went back to the ER I had fluid in my lungs and stuff. So it's officially bronchitis exacerbated by seasonal allergies and lung scarring from long covid. Yay, diagnosis! If I hadn't tried to save money by skipping the doctor I'd probably be more recovered by now.

Anyway, I slept last night with oxygen tubes up my nose, and didn't wake up gasping once! And even after just two doses of my new steroid inhaler, my lungs are feeling clearer. You can still see the prednisone puffiness in my face, and I think it's probably gonna take about three months to lose the TEN FRICKING KILOS I've gained.

(If you'd like to help us get back to the US, so I can get my other medical issues fixed, please see this post.)

[neutron-stars-collision]

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 7 - Unravel

Masterlist; Chapter 6 Summary: Thursday, October 31st... It's Halloween night in Gotham, and what happens tonight changes the course of everything. Warnings: Swearing; slight dose of angst (thanks, R 😒) Author's Notes: Here we are, the movie hath officially began. That means these two are going to have one hell of a week. It also means things are about to get intense. In every sense 😌 I need to thank the bts team for taking that photo and showing it to the world. It's been quite the inspiration. Finally, thank you to everyone reading, sharing and commenting on this story. Your responses keep me going and make me believe it's worth it. Hope you'll enjoy and tell me what you think? Taglist: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @lauftivy, @nicklet94

You never liked Halloween. Even as a child, the holiday struck you as strange and forced. Then its close correlation with your father’s death only made the dislike stronger. You always turned down the party invitations and ignored the festivities, occasionally choosing to roam the city streets, unusually crowded for October. Sometimes that was the only answer, saving you from the disappointment awaiting in your thoughts and loneliness hiding in the shadows in the corners of your apartment. Outside, with the cold breeze and the rain hitting your face, you were not alone. And there was no time to think as you wandered the streets, observing the people gathering for the party in the central square. The variety of costumes did catch your eye, typically resulting in an eye roll or a smirk if particularly clever. And it did not seem like the rain was an issue to them either, crowding the city the closer you were to the Gotham Square.

Sometimes, especially when locking eyes with a lovey-dovey couple, it was difficult to escape the loneliness. To ignore the fact that there was a reason you wanted to hide from your thoughts. To deny the feelings that were always there, just brewing under the surface. Because no matter the 24 hours passed, your heart still ached as the tired brain went over the same few sentences, again and again. Stuck and helpless. Unable to accept the fact that perhaps it really was over. That Bruce did not want anything that had to do with you now that the case was closed. And no kiss or sweet smile could change it. But why was it so hard to let it go?

Looking up ahead, you could see the crowd beginning to block the street. Just a few metres more, and you would have to squeeze past the partiers if wanting to move deeper into the core of Gotham. Yet you kept on walking, too desperate to find an answer within the puddles on the road or the ache between your ribs. It never used to be like that. Sure, idiot boys and stupid girls had broken your heart before. Sure, sometimes it was a little hard to get over, needing months to heal and find hope again. But how could your heart be broken when it was never involved in the first place?

Your brain only caught up with the fact that you had walked into the crowd when you felt someone’s elbow jab your shoulder. Looking around, you saw only a moving sea of people, the tide dragging you with them deeper into the cyclone’s eye. The fleeing instinct kicked in just the right moment as you pushed through the mass until you could run to safety, randomly choosing the first dark alley to hide. As your back hit the wall, you hid your head in your hands, breathing heavily. The question was still the only thing you could focus on. Its incessant nature buzzed underneath your skull like a pesky fly. But you could not swat a thought. You could only face it. The heartache had a reason. The reason was called Bruce Wayne, and you did like him. And there was no way of assuring it would not develop further. Fuck.

Panic rose as you internally weighed options. To return home and get drunk in hopes you could forget you ever realized the truth in the first place. Or to keep on walking, praying that the weariness and the rain could wash away the fragility and weaknesses. Sudden noise coming from the other end of the passage made you jump up in fear. It was difficult to see anything within the shadows, but you tried anyway as you steeled your posture for whatever danger could await. With fists tightened in the pockets of your coat, you tried to deepen your breath with all your senses heightened. Another noise, like the sound of heavy footsteps heading your way. From the dense darkness, you could almost see a figure appear, walking in your direction with measured, slow steps. Two options: bolt it or be the hyena you always wanted to be. Curious, brave, and ambitious. Now or never.

Before you could bite the bullet, the mysterious stranger spoke in a deep, masculine tone:

“What are you doing here?” before the question was finished, he crossed the remains of space, making the breath hitch in your throat.

You had often wondered what it would be like to meet him. What does it feel like when a masked vigilante dressed as a bat stands in your path. Yet you never expected it to be exactly like this. Your eyes wandered over his form, the black armour highlighting muscles and strength. The cowl revealing half of his face with a sharp jawline. And the eyes, intense in their stare. There was no question why he had terrorized half of Gotham within the last two years. Feeling the heart still pounding in your chest, you took a half a step back for good measure and addressed him with a frown:

“You’ve scared me” there was no point in lying, was there? “Vengeance, is it?” a final measuring look up and down his body.

Only because you could hardly deny yourself the pleasure. He was tall, towering over you without effort. The array of gadgets and weapons you could easily see attached to the suit told you he knew what he was doing. Yet you were not a criminal, and he was still here, observing you with a sharp gaze. As if reading your mind, the man spoke:

“It’s dangerous for you to wander alone. Especially in dark alleys” he returned your taxing gaze and glanced at the darkness of the surroundings.

He did have a point. But the anger towards Bruce won over reason as you felt the familiar flare of irritation light up your heart. Who was he to tell you what to do?

“Why? Are you sexist, Mr Vengeance?” the sickly-sweet tone accented the ire as you added, “The last time a guy told me not to roam the streets at night, it turned out he was a bit of an asshole” your heart ached at the memory, as you let the annoyance take control to ask, “Why is it your business anyway?”

From the way he averted from your piercing gaze, you knew he understood that you did not appreciate the protectiveness. Not from strangers, anyway. Not tonight.

“I protect the city,” the vigilante offered his argument with a delay, supporting your suspicions and rousing a sardonic smile to appear on your face.

“Yeah, and it’s going splendidly,” you scoffed, unwilling to hold back if it meant he would leave you alone.

The gods had listened. Just as you replied, the man looked up at the sky. His mouth parted as you followed the gaze. The signal had been lit. He was needed. Before he could speak up again, you interjected:

“It’s fine, I’m not that important,” a wave of the hand as if to tell him that he need not care about you, “Never was,” the bitter chuckle died in your throat.

The next time your eyes wandered to the man, he was gone. You let out a long breath and closed your eyes for a beat. It really happened. But you were alright. Well, kind of. Home did sound good, after all. You slowly traced your steps onto the main road, where the crowds had long moved on. It would be a long walk back to the apartment, but you did not mind. Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your coat, making you stop in the middle of a street and take it out. It was a text from a coworker, one that usually covered murders of high-profile citizens. You held your breath as you read the message:

“Mitchell has been murdered in his house. Come here ASAP, looks like it’s a big one,”

Oh. Maybe the universe offered distractions exactly when you needed them?

***

By the time you found your way to the mayor’s house in Crest Hill the crowd had already gathered. It was mostly reporters and journalists with a few curious passersby who did not mind the rain and the late hour. The white stone building was cordoned off by the GCPD, who checked the ID of anyone trying to cross the iron gate and trespass inside. Without an issue, you found the group of your coworkers and exchanged pleasantries, hoping to hear the familiar speculative buzz. That is how you always caught the scoop, listening to the people gossiping and whispering because, in every spoonful of nonsense, there had to be a grain of truth. You did not have to wait long…

“Mary says he was decapitated!” an excited whisper carried through the crowd.

You snorted at the ridiculous rumour, just as someone else opposed it in an affronted tone:

“What? No, that’s bullshit” the man lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, adding his theory to the mix, “I heard the killer used a poker to hit him in the head and then severed his hand,”

A disgusted frown placed itself on your lips as someone raised their voice in a palpable reaction:

“Ew. What is he, a fetishist?”

Laughter rang out around you, as more people joined the crowd waiting for the official statement to come through. Until then, terrible jokes and idiotic theories were all you had. Sadly.

“Maybe he wants to clone our dear mayor,” it was the decapitation enthusiast speaking again “Don’t you think that’s suspicious with the election so close?” even before the question fell, you knew what the reaction would be.

The statement was bold, after all. However, it was also the first thing that came to your mind, unable to ignore the Tuesday voting about to take place. You listened closely, tuning out all the other noises to catch more information. Anything could be true. And you needed something to offer Bruce if- Wait, no. That story was over. Or you wished it were.

“You think Réal sent someone to kill him?” someone suggested the answer, only to dismiss it after a beat, “As if that wouldn’t come out after the election,”

Bella Réal did not seem like the type to pay for an opponent’s assassination instead of hoping the polls swing to her advantage on Tuesday night. But then, looks did deceive. As impressions did.

“It would’ve solved her problem, though. Now she’s got the win in her pocket,” the sensationalist’s tone dripped with nonchalance.

You had to give them that. But a dirty political move in a city like Gotham did not seem quite believable. There was always more to the story.

“I heard Mitchell was never the family man he always wanted us to believe he was,” your ears perked up as someone voiced their theory, “Apparently, the guy had a whole string of lovers, all young girls” another shocked gasp ripped through the gathering.

That one made even more sense. You shuffled closer to the speaker just as someone else joined in:

“Yeah, I heard that too. He used his ties to silence the rumours, but nothing ever dies for good in this city” a deep breath as if he was about to drop a bombshell, “And then there’s this business with Falcone? You know, he-”

You never got to hear the story. The crowd erupted with more excitement and camera flashes before silencing completely as Commissioner Savage came outside the iron gates, followed by cops and what looked like the victim’s family. Your gaze swept over their shattered faces, taking in the heartbreak and grief shining through the cracks. As your eyes landed on the little boy holding the hand of the mayor’s wife, you felt a prick of pain pass through your chest.

“The son found him” another whisper reached your ears as you observed the child, unable to let go of the memories.

He must have been seven or eight. Too young to lose a father. Just like you. Your eyes squeezed shut to prevent shameless tears from trailing down your cheeks. Because how could you explain it? That the past got a little too real? Between one heartbeat and the next, you made up your mind. In the morning, you would go back to Bruce and offer your help on this case, should he want it. Your help, your attention, your heart- Well, he had those already. The reason? Because Bruce understood. That’s all.

Before you could spiral further into the dangerous thoughts, the Commissioner approached the makeshift platform and started speaking:

“Tonight, a son lost a father. A wife lost a husband. And I lost a friend,” the woman wailed, comforted by a member of staff, as Savage continued, “Mayor Mitchell was a fighter for the city, and I will not rest until his killer is found. This was a truly senseless crime, and we are actively pursuing every investigative lead we have in order to identify the perpetrator and hunt him down” the man highlighted every word with an authoritative look and a fist hitting the lectern “I’ve spoken to the governor, and he’s promised to send reinforcements to help us find who is responsible and make sure justice is delivered” a final hit of the fist on the stand, accentuating the meaning.

Only those corrupted to the bone spoke of justice that highly. But who were you to know? Around you, the crowd had started to disperse with a disappointed sigh and animated chatter. Tonight, rumours would be made, theories conceived, and in the morning, Gotham would wake up without a mayor and with yet another nightmare. Your eyes landed on the boy again. There was no sense of hope in your heart, but you had to try. For him. For yourself, too.

***

The moment you approached the Wayne Tower, armed with the set of keys in one hand and an umbrella in the other, you could already feel it coming. That mild yet incessant heart thrashing in between your ribs. That knot tightens in the pit of your stomach. Because it could go either incredibly well, or awfully bad. And you were not sure which outcome was which at that point. Letting out a heavy sigh, you climbed up the steps and reached for the handle, only for the door to open before you slipped in the key. With wide eyes, you watched as four men dressed in identical grey suits fell out into the steps, returning your surprised look with a glare of their own. What even? In bewilderment, you observed them as they walked down the steps and onto the pavement, each carrying a black leather briefcase. Before you could find the needed words, a familiar voice spoke from the doorway:

“You’ve just missed out on entertainment” looking up, you met Alfred’s warm smile as he beckoned you inside.

Returning the grateful smile, you quickly climbed the remaining steps and entered the foyer, pocketing the keys back in the coat.

“Let me guess… Lawyers?” arching an eyebrow, you threw a final glance at the closing door and grinned.

The butler chuckled, giving you a quick welcoming pat on the shoulder, before answering the riddle:

“Accountants”

“Damn it,” groaning with faux annoyance, you followed him into the elevator.

The sooner, the better, or something.

“From the Enterprises. Bruce never goes there, and there were papers to sign, so…” Alfred shrugged, offering you a background of the events as he closed the crate and pressed the button.

The flash of gratitude was inescapable. Because you could never ask, yet the curiosity was always there, eager to understand the daily life at the Wayne Tower. Or anything that had to do with the heir of the fortune.

“He was joyful, I bet” contrasting the image of Bruce against that of the men in suits, you chuckled lowly.

What you would have offered to have been able to see it.

“As were they” Alfred’s addition only made you laugh harder as the elevator stopped.

The nerves were nearly gone now. Only the heart was still fluttering anxiously, unable to process what you were about to do. Silencing the noise, you asked Alfred a final question:

“How are you tolerating this for so long?” you did not need to elaborate.

As soon as your eyes met his, Pennyworth smiled knowingly. He did not need long to find an answer.

“Love” within the depths of his grey eyes, you could see the feeling reflected without measure or uncertainty, “I brought you a guest, Bruce” you followed him into the study, feeling the well-known tension take hold.

As your eyes wandered over the space to locate the man, you urged your heart to calm down. And stop being pathetic, ideally. He was not seated at the table or in one of the armchairs. Instead, you found him on the wooden staircase, with the elbows resting on the bent knees and the hands tightened into fists, touching his mouth. Thinking hard, or, alternatively for Bruce Wayne, sulking. With the damp hair falling over his eyes and a permanent frown etched onto his face, you knew whatever was going on was important. And there was no turning back anyway.

You threw a final glance to check whether Alfred had already left you alone (he did) and cautiously approached the first step, feeling the watchful gaze pinned on your face. The moment you raised your head to meet his eyes, Bruce was waiting. The blue irises pulled you in as you reached out to find a steady grip on the railing and sent him a small smile.

“Hello, sunshine,” the voice got stuck in your throat, resulting in a whisper as you gathered the courage to say what was necessary “I know you don’t want me here, but… I got some information on Mitchell that could help you if you’re working on that case too” it all came out in a rush, unable to find a rhythm or conviction.

Because with each word hitting the breach between you, you faltered. It was one thing to ignore the reality and try your luck again. Another to be rejected twice.

With Bruce’s steady gaze still fixed on your face, and the silence echoing in the room, you felt the fear rise. Not the fear of losing, but the fear of never getting to know what it could be like. What you were missing out on.

“Why do you care?” when he finally spoke, you could hear the hostile edge in his voice.

As if Bruce was expecting to catch you off guard and find you not worthy. You did not need to be told twice to make the next sentence count.

The only trouble was that you had almost forgotten how to use words.

“Our mayor wasn’t someone I admired at all, but… His son found him” the image from the previous night flashed before your eyes as you allowed the feelings to speak, “I looked at that kid and I… I guess it just hit a little too close to home. That’s all” once you could meet his gaze, you raised your head, adding “So?”

What you found reflected at you only made everything harder. It took one look shared between you without any walls or pretending to know that you were right. Bruce did understand.

“Fine,” he nodded his head once, nothing but courtesy.

Yet it was exactly the confirmation you needed. Your heart sped up again as you grinned, unable to stop the rush of adrenaline from hitting your system. Because, although entirely tentative and promising nothing, Bruce allowed you to work with him a while longer. And that was enough. Ignoring the alarm sirens in your head, you quickly climbed the steps separating you from Bruce and stopped between his knees. Without waiting for him to act, you gently tipped his chin, studying the memorable face with care. Only the frown between the eyebrows deepened, and the lips parted as he responded to your actions. The mild confusion within the blue eyes mixed with shades of longing you had seen before. Acting on instincts, you swept the hair away from his face before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, allowing your lips to linger a little longer. If only to make sure he got the message. When you met his gaze again, Bruce stared at you with astonishment. Quite like someone who would never expect tenderness. Let alone from you. It was another good reason to widen your grin and squeeze his knee before announcing:

“C’mon honeybun, we’ve got a killer to catch” without checking the reaction, you ascended the staircase heading for the library.

You’ve got this. Right?

***

It was hard to say when the tension appeared. And even harder to tell what it meant. Only sometime within the hours you spent discussing the murder with Bruce, something shifted. Sure, he still reacted to your theories and offered insight as you presented the evidence. In this case, you were eager to back some of the fellow hyenas you met last night and place your bets on the infidelity side of the debate. It might not have been the motive but could have been one of the reasons for the why. That and corruption, naturally.

Bruce still seemed present in the room as you worked alongside him. But after you told Alfred that you would spend the night in the tower and not return home alone at night, something was different. It was that strained edge in his voice. That conscious effort not to meet your eye. That inability to stay perfectly still. And then it snapped.

You were going through a biographical entry on Don Mitchell Jr, taking notes on parts that seemed relevant, when within the corner of your eye, you registered movement. Bruce stood up from the armchair and wandered over to the table, radiating unease. You did not have to wait long for it to make sense.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke suddenly, throwing you out of focus with a jolt.

The moment you met his gaze, you knew he meant it. That type of earnest look could not be faked. And you were not sure if you liked where it was heading.

“For?” putting the laptop away to show interest in the conversation, you arched an eyebrow.

It was obvious. But you were never the one to let people get off easy. Especially not after such a heartache. Yes, heartache, denied one, but still.

“You know,” Bruce seemed to curl in on himself, eager to close off and end what he walked straight into.

Which only made you more desperate to push him further. A tiny smirk curled your mouth as you leaned forward in the chair, resting your arms on your knees, watching him intently.

“I do, but I want to hear you say it” there it is.

You did not think he could get stressed even more. And yet. Bruce covered his face with his hands for a beat, all the while pacing around the study as if unable to stop even for a moment. The curiosity peaked as you waited, feeling the jitters reach your system as your foot started tapping the parquet in an anxious rhythm. Because whatever he wanted to apologise for did not seem unimportant to him. Because it could offer answers to questions you were too afraid to ask. Suddenly you were glad Alfred bid you both goodnight a while ago.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Bruce faced you again and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for being rude towards you. For pushing you away for stupid reasons…” the regret was painted all over his features.

In the troubled, blue eyes that looked at you as if you mattered more than you ever thought possible. In the frown etched between the eyebrows drawn together. In the loosely tightened fists resting at his sides. Despite the mind urging you to keep the pressure on him a little longer, your heart let out a pained thump, reminding you of your secrets. Of all that was unsaid, and yet motived your every move for the past few weeks.

It was the heart that made you ask:

“There are reasons?”

There had to be. He said so himself. As you waited to hear them, a part of your logical brain knew it was one of those moments when something changes for good. Like that morning when your father left for work, and you never saw him again. Like the night you decided to scout the murder scene and met Bruce instead.

No matter what it was, you had to hear it. Unable to keep still, you stood up and joined him by the table, keeping the safety gap necessary to function. Meeting Bruce’s gaze over the space, you knew he felt it too. He took another moment to gather courage and spoke in a quiet, strained voice:

“The fact that you look at me and you see it all. You see me as I am and not as I want to be” his body grew even tenser as he seemed eager to flee the scene without giving you time to react.

As if he was fully expecting rejection. Laughter and ridicule. As if he never anticipated what you had to say in response. And that was simple.

“You’re missing a crucial part of the equation there” a gentle smile as you took a step closer, desperate to make him understand there was no danger awaiting here, “I see you exactly as you are, and I like it. I like you” as you whispered the words, the conviction grew.

You meant it. That was obvious. You did like him. Despite the sulking, the drama, and the differences. Even though he made no sense, and confused you beyond logic. Even though you were never looking for another chance of heartbreak.

What you found in Bruce’s gaze only made everything easier. His eyes widened as he let out a shuddered breath through the parted lips. The denial was bubbling on the surface as he seemed unable to accept your statement. You closed the gap before he spoke, carefully taking hold of his hand and relaxing the fist to entangle your fingers with his. With the other palm, you cupped his cheek, brushing the skin with your thumb. Bruce swallowed a sharp gasp as he choked out the protest:

“You can’t-” another pang in the heart.

It sounded familiar. As though his mistakes and shortcomings could change what you felt. As if getting to know him could only mean you changing your mind.

He had to know how wrong he was. You took another step closer, blocking his way out with his back against the table edge. After all, he could push you away anytime he wanted. And yet it still gave you the necessary bout of courage as you whispered the counterargument:

“I do” you rose on the toes to press a kiss to his cheek, replacing the touch of your palm.

Bruce let a sharp hiss and froze as you slid your hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him a little closer. It was easy to let go, trailing careful kisses to the corner of his mouth and then down towards the edge of the sharp jawline. It was a simple act of confirmation, signing off the confession and proving you meant it. Your lips glided over the edge of his jaw, feeling the burn from his stubble and how Bruce shuddered, responding to your caress. He still did not push you away, evidently battling the wants and fears in the quiet of his mind.

You had to make sure he understood there was a way out. Leaning back, your eyes swept over his remarkable features and over the closed eyelids to place a final sentence right before him. To solve the dilemma, he could be trapped within.

“If you want me to stop… I will” that simple.

Bruce opened his eyes with an audible exhale. The sea blue irises pulled you in, overwhelming your senses with the depths of feelings visible underneath the cracked surface. Want was there, dilating the pupils and making his breath grow shallow. Fear was there, too, in the light tremors of his fingers, secured in your grasp. Yet it was the need to let go that seemed most fascinating. The desire to forget about everything holding him back and embrace what could be. What you wanted to give him, even if for a moment. The past was inescapable, but one could always ignore its existence. You knew Bruce understood.

He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you close again. The warmth of the contact spread over your body as he hiked up your shirt to touch your bare skin. It was enough to remember what you wanted. To remember to forget about everything that wasn’t Bruce. Easy. Boldened by the feel of his fingers exploring your upper body, you pressed your lips to his neck. Leaving thousands of kisses over the skin. Gently catching his skin between your teeth to make him gasp and whimper. Licking over the damage to make him melt into you, consuming you with warmth and need. To make him unravel underneath your hands and mouth. To make him remember this if nothing else.

The old clock in the hallway had struck midnight. The loud noise broke through your haze, making you pull back and meet Bruce’s wild gaze. His lips were parted, cheeks ablaze. Whatever you did had an effect. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Not like this. Because taking what you wanted never felt good. Because this time, you actually cared. And that changed everything. Guilt gnawed at your heart as you took a step back, making his hands fall to his sides. Only now did you realise how cold it was with the fire long gone.

“I should probably go,” it was the head speaking this time, silencing the heart, “Goodnight, Bruce,” forcing out a gentle smile, you quickly picked up your belongings and headed for the door.

“Goodnight,” Bruce spoke quietly, making you stop in the doorway for a split second.

If he asked, you knew the answer. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. It’s only that you want him too much. And that is enough.

#the batman #robert pattinson #the batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman x y/n #the batman x you #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #batman x reader #batman x y/n #batman x you #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson!batman x reader #robert pattinson!bruce wayne #waiting for the night

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

It’s been a very busy couple of days but I finally have time to sit down and write about this. Went to Montreal a couple of nights ago for the Just For Laughs Festival. Absolutely amazing night, from start to finish. Well, maybe not from the very start. I really like the Old Montreal neighbourhood so I went there beforehand, and found that I like it a lot less when it’s full of JFL-related crowds.

So I gave up on that, went to the festival. Walked around the festival itself for a bit. The outdoor festival area is full of big screens and big crowds and loud music and had several outdoor stages where I heard bits and pieces of various people making various bad jokes. Maybe a little big cool, I guess, in a very small dose, if you like that sort of thing.

Luckily, the venue where I was seeing comedy was inside, and much smaller. Well, it was a very large arts complex with a lot going on it, multiple theatre rooms as well as a bunch of other stuff, but the room where I was was the smallest one. Capacity 128, but for both shows, all the seats in a whole third of the room didn’t get used. I’d estimate there were about 60 people in each show, maybe a few more in the first one than in the second one. I saw Nish Kumar last year in that same room, small room but I’m pretty sure it sold out (I didn’t notice any empty seats, anyway, there could have been one or two), and the felt like a very small and intimate performance. So this was even more so, same room but a crowd about two thirds of the size.

When I first walked in and saw the crowd size, half of me was thinking, “What the hell? Tom Ballard is a very successful Australian comedian, he has two officially released stand-up specials and a book and he hosted a topical comedy TV show for a couple of years. He’s an internationally touring comedian. How the hell has he traveled all this way to be here, and only about 60 people (plus whoever came to his show the previous night, he did two in total) have turned up to see him? What is everyone doing, missing out on this?” The other half of me was thinking, “He’s well known in Australia. He hosted a TV show in Australia. Who are all these people who live near Montreal yet know enough about Tom Ballard to have paid a bunch of money and come out to see him? Why are there so many of them?”

Then Tom Ballard came out, and… well, they don’t call him the white gay Australian Nish Kumar for nothing. I mean, they don’t call him that, I do, but I don’t do it for nothing. The two times I’ve seen Nish Kumar live, he started shouting at the audience from the moment he came out and did not calm down until it was over (oh yeah, Nish Kumar’s special gets released tomorrow, it’s his 2022 show, the one I saw twice last year, it’s fucking incredible, I’m going to make everyone watch it). Tom Ballard did something similar. Maybe there was slightly more variation in the intensity levels. At one point he took a bit of a break from shouting about the world ending to talk about his sex life, and I’ve never seen Nish Kumar do that, not even in his early stuff from before he went so political.

It was pretty much what I expected, based on the reviews and on who Tom Ballard is, but what I expected it to be based on that was very good. Got the personal stuff out of the way early – he gained weight during lockdown, he’s got a boyfriend now, he used to hook up with weird people. Then got back to what we came for, which was shouting about the end of the world and talking shit about the monarchy. I realize neither of those things are new in comedy, and he realizes it too, at one point comments that he knows it isn’t particularly edgy to say “Fuck the queen” in a world where all reasonable people think the royal family can go fuck themselves, but on the other hand, if this opinion is so commonplace and repetitive, why are they still there? And he’s got a point. It’s hard to call anti-monarchy material tired and overdone when you look at scale of the pro-royalist queen death coverage and the coronation coverage that have happened in the last year.

And it’s not even that overdone among comedians. Every once in a while during the Tom Ballard show, I was struck by how much his voice sometimes sounds like Adam Hills’, because they both have the Australian accent, but they also both do the Australian vocal fry thing where the pitch goes up at the end of sentences. So it felt a little bit like being shouted at by Adam Hills, except that you won’t hear “fuck the dead queen” from Adam Hills.

This show does make me want to formally apologize to Tom Ballard for that post I wrote before I listened to the post-coronation Bugle episode, when Tom Ballard and Mark Steel were the guests, and I said Mark Steel is going to be the star of this show, he’s been waiting his whole career for this much royalist bullshit to get righteously furious about. Listening to the actual episode reminded me that Tom Ballard should never be counted out in a competition of “Who can talk the most shit about the British monarchy”, and this stand-up show makes me realize I definitely should have known that all along.

This show did do the sort of thing that I thought made Nish Kumar’s 2022 show (Your Power Your Control, released on August 1, 2023, everyone in the world needs to watch it) work so well, which is to tie his larger political points around something personal. In this case, Tom Ballard got the main political themes around the story of his grandmother who lived in a care home. I had just visited my grandparents’ in their care home the other day, and might have laughed too hard at some of his impressions of what it’s like in those places.

I really, really enjoyed it. I don’t know if it’s for everyone – I mean, obviously it’s not for royalists or climate deniers or those who hate the elderly, I guess – but it may even be not for people who agree with him but just aren’t into shouty comedy. If you like that sort of thing, though, this is a very, very good example of it. And I really like this sort of thing. I’ve seen his two previous specials, and I enjoyed them, but this is by far the best Tom Ballard stand-up show I’ve seen.

Actually, that came up during the show. At one point he mentioned that he’d released a stand-up special on Paramount Plus in 2022 (it’s called Enough, it’s not as good as this one but it’s still really enjoyable and I recommend it), but no one watched it because no one in the world subscribes to Paramount Plus. To prove this, he asked the audience who in there has seen that special. I said that I did, assuming my voice would be drowned out among the other people speaking up. But it turned out my voice carried through the room, because I was the only person who answered. He made some jokes about how it’s proof that Paramount Plus is obscure because of a whole crowd of people who’ve paid to see him, only one person has seen the special (to be honest, I don't have Paramount Plus either, there are ways to find comedy specials that don't involve subscribing to steaming platforms, that's a good thing for everyone who doesn't have Sky TV to remember when Nish Kumar's special is released on there tomorrow). The he looked at me, said thank you for watching it, and asked me what I’d thought of it. I said I thought it was very good, and he said that’s the kind of crowd interaction he wants, and then the whole room applauded.

Oh yeah, it’s relevant to know that right before that, a guy had been heckling annoyingly. Tom Ballard had humoured him at first but was becoming less forgiving of him by this point, the audience was getting really annoyed with him too. So Tom Ballard’s point was that I’d shown a good example of how an audience member should behave, by giving him a quick two-word answer when I was addressed and then shutting up, in contrast to the guy who kept talking for too long. And then the whole audience applauded me for not being an obnoxious heckler (later in the show, the guy who’d been heckling got kicked out of the room). So that was fun. This is the same room where Nish Kumar briefly addressed me at this same festival last year, when my reaction to one of his jokes made him laugh (have you ever made Nish Kumar laugh? Nish Kumar? The guy who has that fucking laugh? Like making an angel fly), and he asked me a question about it. So the smallest theatre in Montreal’s Place Des Arts is now where I’ve been personally addressed by both Nish Kumar and by White Gay Australian Nish Kumar.

The show ended, and they cleared the room. Tom Ballard went from 7:30 to about 8:40, so at 8:40 I walked out of the room and straight into the back of the line that had already formed for the next show. When they let us back into the same room, I got almost the same seat (front row, but there are only four rows in total, this is not a large room). Josie Long’s show started at 9 PM.

God, it was good. Really fucking good. I came out of that night thinking both shows were incredible (I definitely made the right choice with where to spend my limited funds on JFL tickets, I can’t imagine there being any shows at the whole festival that I’d have enjoyed more than these two), but Tom Ballard’s might be an acquired taste, and Josie Long’s is just perfect no matter who you are, unless you’re a fucking Tory, I guess. But God, I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying it. I think if you’re a Tory and you see this show, you might just come out a socialist. Just because your options are “turn into a socialist” or “hate this show”, and you can’t hate that show. It’s too perfect.

I’ve heard almost all Josie Long’s old shows in one form or another, multiple versions of a few of them. Starting back at 2006: Kindness and Exuberance, Trying Is Good, All of the Planet’s Wonders, Be Honourable!, The Future Is Another Place, Romance and Adventure, Cara Josephine, Something Better, Tender, Re-Enchantment. The only one I’ve not heard in any form is Something Better. Of the ones before this year, I think my favourite was Cara Josephine, possibly Romance and Adventure. But they were all good. They were different from each other in many ways – from the excitable whimsey of Trying Is Good to the darker stuff in the next few years to the angry political stuff to the optimistic political stuff to the more personal love life and family stuff and back around to the really intense political stuff. All there, in different variations at different times. There’s something to love in all of it.

It felt like all that stuff was packed into Re-Enchantment. The best of everything she can do, all packed into an hour, and all tied to each other, it doesn’t feel like she separated any of it out. The personal and political so deeply intertwined that I can’t tell which bits are meant to be which (well, with some exceptions). And, not to be incredibly cheesy or anything, you can feel how much of this one comes from the heart. Like she was really, really passionate about everything she talked about, like this show didn’t just get written because it was a new year and she needed a new show, like she had all kinds of stuff she couldn’t wait to say to people. Re-Enchantment is my favourite Josie Long show, and there is a lot of competition in that area.

She also did the thing I like in Tom Ballard, talking about larger issues and tying them to something personal. And she did it so well. It helps that the personal things she has to tie it to at the moment are beautiful. Living in Glasgow, which she loves, and raising two small children, which she loves. And finding ways to tie those things to all the political issues that she hates. I think that’s what makes it work so well. That she can hit the worst things in the world, the things that make her (and us) angry and terrified and feel hopeless, but she keeps bringing them back to these things she loves so much, so the show doesn’t feel bleak. It’s dark at times, but she gets on stage, walks through all these dark topics, manages to dig into them and excavate these tiny gleams of light, and then puts her hands out to show us whatever glittering morsels she’s found, and I apologize for drifting into sappy prose but that’s what it feels like to watch a Josie Long show live.

There were no obnoxious hecklers at Josie Long’s show. The crowd was good, and I think knew what they were getting into better than the Tom Ballard crowd had. A couple of times Josie Long translated things for the Canadian audience (year 11/grade ten, explaining who Nicola Sturgeon is), but I’m not sure she needed to, the audience was on board with everything she was doing. At one point she needed to reference a company that does windows, and said she usually used a British company but had been trying to find a company that’s well known in Canada to use instead while over here, but she didn’t know any, and that’s when I realized I don’t think we’ve got any famous window companies. She asked if we knew of any, and the audience seemed like they were genuinely trying to help her out, I think if anyone had thought of one they’d have said so. I guess Canada just isn’t that big on windows.

I’d heard a couple of versions of this show before – she livestreamed a version of it last month from the Glasgow Library, so of course I got in on that. So I did already know it was a good one. But God, it’s different seeing it live. Seeing how good she is at just being on the stage, throwing her voice and her face and her mannerisms and her whole body into everything she’s saying, using all of that to convey everything. Running around the stage at times, engaging with everyone. I can’t imagine anyone’s attention drifting even for a moment.

It’s structured really well, too. Done relatively subtly, I think, some of the callbacks were obvious but some not as much. She put stuff in at the beginning that seemed small and came back, sometimes in little ways and sometimes tied into the whole theme of the show. You get to the end and realize everything was building toward a couple of messages, but it was all so funny along the way that you barely notice while she goes from routine to routine. And by “you” I mean “me”, I guess. That was my experience of the show. It was a very good experience.

The show ended, and I was so full of adrenaline from watching bot of these shows in a row, that I could barely remember to stick to the plan I’d made beforehand, which was to see if I could find Josie Long after the show. I’ve never tried to meet a famous comedian before – or any famous person, for that matter – but I’d decided I wanted to meet Josie Long enough to give it a try. I’d followed some advice and scoped the place out beforehand, to try to work out where the comedians would exit. So after the show, I went outside the building and tried to run around it to see the door where I thought they might be.

While I was looking for that door, I nearly walked into Josie Long on the sidewalk. She was walking with someone and talking to him, and I didn’t want to interrupt her conversation, but also I have one of her old posters on my wall and I’d brought it in a bag with a pen to see if she’d sign it, and I really wanted to meet her. So I hesitantly said “Um… sorry… excuse me?”, and she looked at me, and then said, “You were in my show.” She hadn’t addressed me during her show, the way Nish Kumar and white gay Australian Nish Kumar had. But apparently, she had remembered my face.

I said yes, I was, and sorry to bother her and I won’t take up much time, but I’m a huge fan, and I have something with me, and could she possibly sign it? Then I reached into my bag, and I don’t know what she was expecting me to have in that bag, but from her reaction, as she stood on a sidewalk in Montreal, Canada at 10:20 PM talking to an incoherently excited Canadian she’d never met before, she was not expecting this person to pull out a cardstock printout of a poster for her 2010 and 2011 shows. She definitely sounded surprised to see that.

But she was very, very nice. She signed the poster, asked me my name, wrote a bit on it about how she appreciated me seeing her in Montreal. Honestly, I really was barely coherent. I can hardly remember what I said now. I was stammering as I tried to think of something reasonable to say. I definitely managed to say I love all her old shows but this latest one is one of the best comedy shows I’ve ever seen in my life, which is true. I think I mentioned several times that I love her book. The whole interaction was maybe a minute long. Maybe two minutes? I don’t know, time had stopped.

Then I walked away, and about twenty seconds later, realized I’d forgotten something. So I turned around, saw that she was still there and still talking to that same guy (this was clearly a guy she actually knew, not a random fan who’d accosted her on the street), and when she saw me coming back, she didn’t look surprised. I said “Sorry… I should have asked for this before… could I get a picture…?”

Basically, I was so fucking excited to meet Josie Long that during that first interaction I completely forgot to ask for a picture with her. She looked liked she’d expected me to ask and was surprised when I didn’t, and she was unsurprised when I came back for it. I took out my phone and her friend took it from me, so he could take a picture for us. Josie Long asked me if I minded if she put her arm around me (very cool of her, getting consent before touching a stranger, even a stranger who has made it quite clear she is not averse to contact with Josie Long), and I managed to say “No I don’t mind” rather than “You putting your arm around me would be the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me, actually.”

I look normal, right? I looked like a normal person who's a normal amount of excited be meeting Josie Long and she should definitely not feel creeped out by the intensity of that? Does it make me look even more normal that you can see a bag in my hand, which I held onto through two comedy shows just in the hopes that I might see Josie Long after the show and get her to sign a poster she made ten years ago?

After that, I stopped at Bounstan Shawarma, a place that was recommended by Nish Kumar, actually. During an episode of The Bugle that he did before he came to Just For Laughs last summer, he plugged his shows there, and then said that while he's there, he'll be eating at Bounstan, which is a great shawarma place in Montreal. My own city (two hours from Montreal, I travelled for this) happens to be known for its shawarmas (we have a large Arab population here, there are a lot of shawarma places), I have a few favourites and think of myself as knowing the local shawarma places fairly well. But there's a Bounstan in my city too, and I'd never been there before Nish recommended it. On his recommendation, I ordered some from my local one, while thinking I bet this won't be as good as he says, they probably just don't have as much shawarma in England as we do in my city (honestly, I have a several friends who grew up in Lebanon, where that dish is actually from, who've told me that shawarma from my city is the best in the world, including in the Middle East), so he's not going to be familiar enough with it to know what's good or bad. God, was I ever wrong. He was right, Bounstan is some of the best shawarma I've ever had. Doesn't quite beat my favourite place, but it's become something I order somewhat regularly. After the shows the other night, still buzzing from the excitement of both shows and meeting Josie Long, I stopped at Bounstan (which is right next to the festival, that would be how Nish Kumar knows about it) and got a shawarma. Then I ate it in my parents' car before driving that car two hours home, because I honestly needed to calm down a bit before I could drive. I'm pleased to say I made it home safetly, returned the car I'd borrowed to my parents' place, fell asleep.

The next morning I got up and flew halfway across the country to my grandparents' house, which is why it's taken me two days before I had time to sit down and write this post.

It was one of the best nights of my entire God damn life. Genuinely, if I think about my entire life and what are my favourite days of it, July 29, 2023 is on the list. I don't know exactly where it ranks on the list. Somewhere below the day I won the regional championships in the sport that I'd then been competing in for four years. Below the first time I coached an athlete to a national medal in that same sport. But above quite a few of my favourite live music memories. Above the day I climbed Signal Hill in Newfoundland and spent three hours at the top of it staring at the ocean and then went down the hill and took a road trip through the outport villages and had cod that had been caught two hours before for dinner. It's definitely on the list.

[lenny-rambles]

About "in another life (and in this one as well)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39941298/chapters/100016535

Title: in another life (and in this one as well)

Author: tibuki

Relevant tags ig: zolu, timetravel, fluff

A cute time travel post-wano ZoLu fic! Real good, definitely a delectable read for any ZoLu fans. Maybe more so for main Zoro fans, because it's kinda Zoro-centric.

Let me start by saying I ADORE time travel fics. The possibilities they generate for angst are just *chef's kiss*. However, this is not an angsty fic, it's fluffy with the right dose of shenanigans for a 3.9K word work. Also, this is all my own subjective opinion, with no ill intentions to anyone, so please keep that in mind.

Now, spoilers for the fic and the Wano Arc ahead, BEWARE.

The way that old!Zoro knew from the start not to say anything because Luffy wouldn't want a boring adventure is SO on point! Robin deducing THEY got married because Nami officiated the wedding IS such a Robin thing to do, I love her so much.

AND JEALOUS YOUNG!LUFFY AAAHHH. I know we all know Zoro is DEVOTED to the man, but I really like it when people also show Luffy's possessiveness and adoration for Zoro. We do forget sometimes that Luffy WENT SEARCHING FOR HIS SWORDSMAN, ahh, I love them.

Oh! And jealous Sanji? Absolutely perfect. He CANNOT understand for the life of him why someone would choose anyone, LET ALONE ZORO, over Hancock. And to be fair, he has a point! Anyone not interested in men would absolutely pick Hancock over Zoro. Maybe even people interested in men would pick Hancock over Zoro. But this is not about any person. This is about Luffy and Zoro, and how it's always been just them!

It's just, really nice. Young!Luffy saying "ah, all right, you can keep it then!" EXCUSE ME?! This man was GOING TO TAKE OLD!ZORO'S RING?!!! What a petty thing to do, I love it. AND THE KNUCKLE KISS. THAT'S SO TERRIBLY DEVASTATING. IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!! Young!Luffy's brain just shortcircuited right then and there, beautiful.

AND THE SCAR MOMENT!!! Can I get more appreciation for scar moments in ZoLu Fics? Like, you guys, scars work so different in the OP canon. We know these people have been stabbed, punched, and went through basically every hell imaginable and the number of scars canon to them is actually really low!!! Like, Zoro's got 4 (1 each foot, the chest, and the eye) and Luffy's got 2 (under the eye and chest). I like the theory that scars only appear when it's an emotionally cathartic moment, when some BIG FEELINGS happen.

So old!Zoro having a burn scar over his heart, matching with Luffy, can only mean so many things, you know? He is, once again, willing to lay down his life in exchange for Luffy's, and looks like it could've been on instinct, not something old!Zoro actually planned for. All the same though, 'cause THE MOMENT young!Luffy sees the scar Zoro Knows he's not going to like it. And the implication of Luffy killing Akainu in the future? Incredible, great!

Also, before I forget, and it was a short scene, merely a few dialogues, but I adore when people get Zoro's Conqueror's Haki to show. Like, honestly? I think about both Luffy and Zoro being Conquerors a lot, but the fic is not about that, so I won't delve too much into it. But the reaction of crew, as if they didn't expect him to have it? It just shows how much the crew (and a lot of the fans, let's be honest here) have internalized how down-bad Zoro is for Luffy, and so don't really see him as a leader.

The off-hand comments about Law are funny! Poor Law, stuck on a friendship with the Straw Hats that will transcend all their lifetimes, sucks to be you. They truly only do what they want, and Law's gotta deal with it, oh well! I just wanna know what Law was trying there? Like, man, how do you even fuck up a shambles that badly? Hold on, now that I think about it. It could've been just Zoro getting lost in the shambles. I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. And Law has to sort it out on his own lmao.

And we'll, the end? The younger versions of them confessing and holding each other?!!! AHHHHHHH It's great, fantastic, awesome. I just really liked the way Luffy's mannerisms came through, I know it's difficult to get them right, so the author did a great job there!!! If I might say something I wasn't the biggest fan of, was young!Luffy's hesitance when talking about their feelings. I'm just nitpicking here, it just doesn't match the way I picture Luffy in my head, but Luffy IS a hard character to portray, in any media, so once again, great work author. It ended sweetly so no harm done.

Now, young!Zoro's reaction to the old!crew? Incredible! He's just SO CONFUSED, old!Luffy might be taller than him! Sanji finally let his hair grow and Usopp's got muscles!!! (let's go Sanji and Usopp's character growth being reflected in their appearance, looking like they are most comfortable with, truly loving themselves) (sorry I just love them as well). The time young!Zoro spent in the future seemed so little in comparison, but it's really entertaining nonetheless.

And finally, when both Zoros are on their respective times, the conversations they have are just- I love my dumb funny pirates. Luffy's may be a bit dumb but he's not stupid!! He knew how to get Zoro to kiss him!!! I love a sly Luffy, even if only he and I think he's being sly. In the end, they are both no-nonsense, so they share a kiss rather sooner than later. Adorable, sweet ZoLu kisses that are just perfect to tie up their side of the story.

And now, the very last scene of the fic, ANOTHER SCAR MOMENT WOOOOOOO. They wake up in their bed many years later and suddenly there's not a burn scar anymore in old!Zoro's chest, and old!Luffy's reaction is also peak Luffy reaction. The tenderness they share, almost afraid it's a dream, agh, my heart!!! The time travel is actually able to change the future so they get to prevent 1 bad thing, and get 1 good thing before. I see this as an absolute win.

All and all, it was a very good fic, would recommend if you like sweet ZoLu stuff. It is well-written and made for a good insomnia past-time.

Anyways, thanks for reading my ramblings about this. Please read the fanfic and then some more.

#zolu #zolu fanfic #one piece zolu #txt #rambles

[rainderthesomeone]

Its official :>

I know I've said it here and there on a few posts on transgender stuff, but its a official, I'm trans :D

TW: I talk about abuse and body dysphoria in this post, you dont have to read the rest, this section is just me sharing my experiences in my teenage years with a homophobic as hell republican as a father.

I've known for a while like ever since I was in Middle School, I had a really hard time fitting in with other girls, I tried making friends with them but they were all into make up and dress's and talking about boys and other stuff, I made at least one friend in middle school but they left me for a group of girly girls, and I wasn't interested in what they liked, I was into a lot of things they were not interested in, I was a huge nerd, I liked games, Godzilla, movie production, comics, marvel, star wars, fnaf, dinosaurs, bendy, (not saying girls dont like these things, girls can like anything guys :D women are amazing I know a lot of amazing girls now :>) nothing they liked and when they saw that they weren't interested in me anymore, but I connected with the guys a lot more, but they always saw me as the girl who tagged along and needed to be treated gently, at first I had no interest in the lgbtq community or the idea of being something else other than what I already was, I couldn't even really talk about, since the topic of gay and gender ideology wasn't allowed in the house I used to live in, my father hated gay people, said they were wired, and shouldn't be his words not mine "frolicking around and being queer" da hell dose that mean? im still baffled by that, he's also that kind man who thinks lesbians are cool and gay men shouldn't exist, it was that level of misogyny and homophobia, looking at it now, it was really disgusting and disturbing, but I was 12 I didn't know any better.

but than as I got older I became more aware, and started questioning things, I was 13 in my room, on my phone, and I found this artist who was drawing deltarune characters, deltarune was also a huge eye opener to the lgbtq comunity for me, since kris identified as none binary, but I found one of the oc's the artist made and they identified as A gender, and I was like whats that and looked into it more and more, and than I went from I dont know who or what I am, to maybe im a demi girl, maybe im A Gender, maybe im none binary and than boom, it clicked, I went with they/them/there's for a while, but I began to feel uncomfortable, by being refred to as her, she, I started hating wearing a braw and how scratchy and annoying it felt, I began hating my chest, I stopped wearing shorts due to my legs being abnormally hairy and that girls arent supposed to be hairy, at one point my dad was going to put me through a hole body hair removal process which would have removed all my body hair, and he was going to do it without me knowing, until my mother told me, she was the most supportive person I had while going through this, I was litteraly terrified to say no to my dad, but eventully he didint go through with it, but I still wasnt allowed to have body hair, every time we went shoe shopping he tried to get me pink shoes, and brands women would only use, we went on a cruise and we had to dress up, but I didint want to since I would have had to wear a dress, blue jeans were the only thing I had that was close to guy clothes, I wasnt allowed anything remotley masculine, only my mom would let me have products like old spice, and she took me guy clothe shopping but it had to be in secret from my father, who would hurt me and my mother if he found out, not physically well he would probably slap me, but only yell at my mother, which still wasnt good, eventully we left his sad ass, and now me and my mom live in a apartment together, and from there I could freely explore who I was, a month later I came out as trans to my mother right after we left, and im in therapy with an amazing therapist and I have amazing friends who dont fully understand but support me in every direction, only triggering thing Ive experinced so far was not being able to change my pronouns to he him lol, Curse you school bored! XD

anyway sorry for the lenghty slightly depressing post, I just wanted to share my story here since I have the platform to do so now, the freedom of speech is very rewarding and validating lol, origanlly this was going to be a post about "guys I got my first chest binder oh and btw im ftm" but I wanted to get this off my chest no pun intended and open myself up more on here, the trans comunity on tumblr has been amazing so far, especially the tf2 comunity on here, I truly feel welcomed and comfortable being here.

lot of grammar issues in here, grammars not my strong suit plus its 11 pm for me right now, im heading to bed lol, good night everyone!

#transgender #coming out as trans #trans rights #trans masc #ftm trans #im also not on any medication as of righting this once im settled finacially ill bring yall on that journey with me lol #if any one has any tips on trans masc I would really appreciate it XD cuz im still exploring #and its gonna be my first day tomorrow binding so uh lets see how that go's lol #k that enough from me back to tf2 comics :D

[teeth--thief]

I’ve likely flooded your inbox by now. Tell me about Medvedev?

-R, (Rodka).

Hi hi hello Rodka! Hell yeah, let's get into that mf-- man. I mean man.

He's the author of The Truth about Chernobyl aka Chernobyl Notebook and No Breathing Room (it takes a masochist to read that, which I am not. It's in the Drive regardless, just in case someone out there is). The general consensus goes that he was more or less a mouthpiece for the government, spreading their narrative further. The book, being one of the first ones about the disaster, was meant to ensure that the general public blames all the convenient people, overlooking the ones that truly mattered and were to blame in this story.

In the preface of very own his book, one S. Zalygin (I don't know who you are and do not care to find out) describes him as such:

The author is a nuclear power specialist who worked for a time at the Chernobyl AES and knows it well, just as he is personally acquainted with all the principal participants in the events. By virtue of his official position, he has attended many of the crucial conferences concerning nuclear power plant construction.

Worked for a time at Chernobyl AES is one way to put it. I mean... sure, he did. According to Steinberg at least, he even was the first Deputy Chief Engineer. For 6 months. In 1973. According to Dyatlov, Medvedev was in Chernobyl from 1972 until 1974 - whichever the case may be, that's either 5 or 3 years before the launch of the first unit. Now, time for a little conspiracy theory... Guess when Dyatlov, who was very well known for tolerating nothing but absolute professionalism and discipline, started working in Chernobyl? In 1973. And guess who the first author (if I'm not mistaken) to spread the narrative about Dyatlov basically being The Devil and so much more was? Medvedev. Listen, I'm not saying these two things are related... HOWEVER...

Nah, I'm kidding. If that was the case, A.S. Dyatlov would have mentioned so in How It Was, in which he does talk in length about Medvedev and his book, mainly in chapter 9. He is mean to him in the best, most professional way possible. Example being this bit:

“I arrived at the construction site of the nuclear power plant in the village of Pripyat directly from the Moscow clinic, where I was treated for radiation sickness. I still felt bad, but I could walk and decided that, working, I would get back to normal faster.”

I don’t know how he felt - bad or good, but according to the 6th hospital (A.K. Guskova and A.F. Shamardin), G. Medvedev did not have radiation sickness and the dose was minimal.

He really said I went to the idiot village (got the most important staff from the hospital in Moscow on record) and everybody there knew you (they said you were fine, you fucking liar).

I'm not too sure where I heard this (maybe from Kupnyi?), but the general opinion of the people in the nuclear field, people from ChNPP of Medvedev is that... well... they don't see him as a professional at all, really. He was deemed untrustworthy, a liar and first and foremost - someone lacking the technical knowledge he always presented himself as being in possession of.

Additionally, this is what Nikolai Steinberg - one of the people on the INSAG-7 commission, a ChNPP worker (a book of his is on the Drive, too, by the way) - had this to say about him in this incredibly long interview with not only him but quite a few other interesting people... like the one and only, Stolyarchuk: bless whoever clipped it so that I don't have to look for the right part in a 3 hour long video! (Yes, there are subtitles! And there's also part two) Safe to say - nobody in the professional field likes Medvedev :)

#file: special interest: chernobyl #my hatred towards anyone slandering the NPP staff is absurd (i will never stop) #file: ask! #asker: rodka #Chernobyl

[swaps55]

Fugue - 11 - Hope in These Wires

Pairing: mShenko

Rating: M

Tags: Angst, Grief, Major (Canonical) Character Death

Summary: Alchera, and the two-year gap.  

Chapter Summary: Welcome to N1

Thank you, thank you to @pigeontheoneandonly for spotting exactly what this chapter was missing, and Real Life Romance Option for coming up with the coolest solution ever.

Chapter 11: Hope in These Wires | Read on Ao3

17 February 2184, Local Cluster, Sol, Earth, Atlantic Ocean Argentine Basin, Interplanetary Combatives Simulator Training Facility

A thrum of energy stands the hairs of Kaidan’s neck on end well before he lays eyes on the source. The supply ship that’s been chugging its way out into the Argentine Basin for the last hour rocks lazily as it tethers to the giant cylinder spanning five hundred meters wide, sunk over two thousand meters into the Atlantic Ocean. Kaidan makes his way to the starboard side of the ship and looks over the railing at his new home for the next six weeks.

The Can is a far cry from the rugged wilderness of Ilha Grande, and the sleepless, endless, relentless three weeks of physical training in the thick of Rio’s sticky, damp summer that have him running a few kilos short of his normal weight with hands that won’t stop shaking.

Under the heavy, humid night sky, Kaidan had spent much of what little time he had for sleep curled up nursing a bad case of nausea, dizziness, and some of the worst abdominal pain he’s felt since BAaT.

Back at BAaT it had taken him a while to learn the difference between the migraines and the warning signs of low blood sugar and electrolyte imbalance. So many of the symptoms overlapped.

Never thought he’d see the day he’d be thankful for over a decade of managing the migraines, and the higher pain tolerance that came about because of it. Out in the wilderness, instead of Shepard’s arms to hold him through it, all he had was the hard, stony ground, the roiling thunderstorms that dumped rain a few times a day, and a gravity well that never moved.

Twice he’d almost quit. Once when he skirted the line too close to a full blood sugar crash on week two, and in the final stretch, when the electrolyte imbalance started spiraling a little too out of control.

But he’s a medic. A good one. He’d kept Shepard alive on Sharjila. He could keep himself on his feet at the Villa.  

And he had, until collapsing shortly after the official conclusion of Selection, and landing himself in the infirmary for two days, hooked up to IV fluids and a hefty dose of potassium chloride.

Staring at the blank ceiling while the world moved on around him reminded him too much of those first few days after Alchera. When nothing felt real, and too real at the same time.  

Is this how you felt? he’d wondered. Like you weren’t enough?  

But no answer came.

When Isaacs came to see him, he’d been sure it would be a discharge notification. Instead they’d ordered him to get out of bed and report to the armory.

He’d met the minimum standard required to train for N1.

Hard to know whether it was something he really earned, or someone else pulling strings he couldn’t see, but he’d been too exhausted to care.

And now…things get hard.

Shepard had described the Can as the nine circles of hell. The most advanced simulation technology humanity had to offer, capable of generating countless alien landscapes, re-creating nearly any hostile environment you could dream up, and lined with eezo-powered plates that could redefine gravity in any plane, for any situation. The buzz it generates makes Kaidan’s teeth itch, and he’s not even inside it yet.

He hoists a ruck sack over one shoulder – it feels light as a feather compared to what he’s been carrying – and grips the hardcase with his newly-issued armor in his other hand. About the only thing he hasn’t struggled with so far is learning the ins and outs of a spec-ops grade suit.

Because he already knows it by heart.

Better VI. More efficient shield modulators. More robust medical exoskeleton. It’s a simpler version of what Shepard had put on every day, the suit Kaidan had known as well or even better than he knew his own. The suit that, in the end, hadn’t saved Shepard’s life.

Now it belongs to Kaidan. He just has to earn the right to keep it.

Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Fugue Playlist

#mass effect #mshenko #kaidan alenko #fugue update

[honey-tongued-devil]

⤝Writober - Day 5⤞

▶Writober Day 5 “Sinners” [Marcus]

↠English is not my first language ↠No use of "y/n", gn reader ↠TW: Slightly NSFW, "dancer"!reader, slightly degradation kink, spit kink, Last drop? Brothel? Who knows ↠Character/s: gn reader, Marcus ↠wc: 578 words

▶“Sinners”

The glass sprints in a single fluid movement through the entire counter, dressing with the colored lights of the room before finishing its short run in the gloved hand of the policeman, who, without any hesitation or delay, brings it to his lips.

The music is so loud that the bass resonates in the diaphragm and makes the liquids vibrate rhythmically in the bottles carefully arranged behind the counter, as in a collective and hypnotic dance able to overcome the fourth dimension. Everything in that place seems to transcend the human as if someone had managed to scratch a slice of hell inside a closed building.

The moans and sighs accompany the notes, coming from every corner of the room, where shameless lustful don’t deprive themselves of a macabre dance, hungry for the body and soul of each other. On the stage and the counter several figures move ambiguous and sensual, without any gender and race, as if they lived only for that moment, and you with them. 

You make your hands run on your skin uncovered, the lips hatched ready to give lascivious smiles to those sinners who despairing crowd at your feet, praying for one moment of your attention.

Keep your eyes glued to that of the man, intent on enjoying the only time when you, a dirty little animal of the underground city, can look down from above not only some piltover but even a public official. You kneel before him without stopping to dance, fluid as a snake, only to observe him better in those eyes so dark that they seem to swallow every single glimmer of light. 

He sweats.

Swallows.

And you wonder if he feels dirty, if he feels like he’s in a cage, if he realizes that he’s just your prey.

And he, like a good obedient child, doesn't say a word. You grab his jaw between your thumb and pointer, slightly moving his face as you would with a precious gem, arching your back instinctively when he, instead of resisting, remains soft in your hands.

Docile, that man who the next morning would be ready to shoot a bullet directly between your eyes to keep his business clean, is now totally submissive to the touch of a mere prostitute.

You want to kill him.

At least threaten him, make him feel small, but you know you can’t.

You limit yourself to make a slight pressure on the just dug cheeks of the man to force him to open his mouth, then, with one hand, you lift his glass stealing a sip of his stupid and predictable gin. 

Rich people have no taste nor imagination.

And when he raises his eyebrows confused, you recline your head, his lips a few millimeters from yours while you spit out the clear liquid in his mouth, rippling in a smile of pure pleasure when the man’s eyelids close slightly and his back stiffens.

Pathetic. 

The red of the lights doesn’t stop you from clearly seeing the coins and bills that from time to time he slips at your feet, like a drug addict willing to do anything for a dose. And you, magnanimously, every time kneel down before him, letting him once touch a leg to worship your body, once feel your mouth so close to his skin that you can whisper against it every single sin you committed.

And he, second after second, falls more and more in the arms of a demon.

#arcane fanfic #arcane writing #arcane marcus #marcus x reader #marucs arcane #marcus x you #marcus x gn reader #arcane writober #writober #writober 2022 #pumpNEON #marcus arcane #last drop

[mrs-monaghan]

is it true that in the last concert jk only did skinship with tae and pushed off the other members?

A Taekooker. Okay. You i can handle. I hate your asses but you don't make my blood boil like insecure Jikookers. I feel nothing for u people so i can take take you but only in small doses. Okay. What are u talking about?

First things first. The Busan concert was not like their other concerts. There were government officials in attendance and so skinship was basically none existent in general. I mean we still managed to get a lot of Jikookery with or without the skinship but members were not really doing fan service that concert.

I'm so confused by this question, anon.

Do you mean the moment when Jin was playing with JK and JK did indeed shrug him off and give him one hell of a sassy look? Coz that was just Jinkook being Jinkook and goofing about.

Do you mean this when Jimin grabbed JK's shoulder? Because that just looks to me like JK run off so Jimin's arm got dislodged and the latter skipped after JK. I don't see that as JK shrugging him off 🤔

And wdym he only did skinship with V? And this moment doesn't count. JK needed help getting up

I've literally just watched a tkk video because of u and they didn't have any concert moments apart from that 👆🏽 and maybe 2 or 3 other moments where tkk sang together. Most of their moments are from rehearsals where members were undressing V.

You got me anon. I do not have a clue what you're talking about.

#ask shaz #bts ask #the vermin

[kschmidts-a]

ok  here  we  go,  a  little  headcanon  dump  for  kate's  bullet  train  verse!!

catherine  analyn  schmidt,  kate  to  her  circle,  known  to  everyone  else  as  dikya  ( jellyfish  )  her  parents  didn't  bother  hiding  the  family  business  from  her,  so  it's no  surprise  there's  plans  for  her  to  officially  be  brought  in  once  she's  old enough.  so  she  gets  shoved  into  martial  arts  as  soon  as  she's  able,  gymnastics as  well,  then  of  course,  learning  how  the  hell  to  throw  knives  on  target.  but those  lessons  come  later.  all  this  while  also  fitting  the  mold  of  the  perfect student,  the  head  cheerleader,  the  perfect  daughter  of  the  perfect  schmidt family.  a  family  that  no  one  would  guess  was  the  root  of  the  drug  problem that  ran  rampant  in  their  city.  school  and  practice  by  day,  a  babysitting  gig  in the  evenings,  and  once  night  finally  hit,  her  real  life  could  begin.  she's  smart, always  has  been,  especially  when  it  came  to  chemistry.  cue  kate,  at  eighteen, putting  that  brain  to  use,  learning  about  toxins  and  compounds,  testing  all sorts  of  combinations,  presenting  that  research  to  her  parents..  a  solution.  a way  to  bring  in  those  pests  hiding  away,  avoiding  debts  that  needed  to  be paid  without  causing  too  much  of  a  fuss.  a  paralytic  of  sorts.  one  she'd  work at  perfecting  for  years.  but  that's  for  later.  in  the  meantime,  it  worked  for  the most  part.  though  too  high  of  a  dose  would  kill  within  minutes,  she'd  often make  that  mistake.  her  targets  needed  to  be  brought  in  alive  after  all.

fast  forward  two  years  and  kate's  in  college,  her  tasks  now  expanding  to taking  over  turfs.  gathering  intel  until  they're  finally  able  to  ambush.  it  was easier  said  than  done,  juggling  looking  like  a  run  of  the  mill  student  with  her real  life.  but  then,  a  wrench  thrown  into  her  plans.  a  survivor,  a  witness, someone  who  saw  her  face,  someone  who  recognized  her.  it  wasn't  hard  to find  her  afterwards,  ambushing  her  in  her  dorm,  almost  killing  her.  her  death was  faked  shortly  after,  the  only  solution  they  could  figure  out.  then  her  were names  always  changing,  a  never  ending  shuffle  of  identities.  the  only  constant was  'dikya',  an  affectionate  childhood  nickname  that  became  her  moniker  (  box jellyfish  as  well,  though  that  one's  less  used  )  it's  what  she'd  cling  onto  for some  semblance  of  an  identity.  it's  a  no  brainer  for  her  at  that  point,  to  get lost  in  her  jobs,  to  become  further  desensitized  and  jaded  until  loneliness  she feels  from  time  to  time  in  her  line  of  work  begins  to  dull  until  finally,  years and years and years later, it's  something  shoved  into  a  box.  

#yuh idek what this is but here have it <3 #i'm here w brain rot #figuring shit out #expanding on it later #like exactly what combat & shit she does #why she ends up on the bullet train #etc etc #she's either 28 or 30 in this verse decisions decisions sigh #━━ ❛ THEY SAY I'M A CONTROL FREAK DRIVEN BY THE GREED TO SUCCEED ❋ ◤ headcanon ◢ #━━ ❛ YOU KNOW I’M NO GOOD ❋ ◤ bullet train--2022 ◢