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#not that it wasn't that far from finished
simplydnp · 2 days
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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june
anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.
you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.
and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.
and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.
they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.
one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.
every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.
the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...
dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.
and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.
you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.
as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.
my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.
i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.
even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.
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blueywrites · 2 days
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eddie frequents the curtained adult area of family video and steve always complains that he knows far too much about munsons kinks.
curiosity overwhelms you so you go over to smoke with him and lightly tease him about it. he shows you a super hot porno full off butt stuff on the woman AND the man.
this was fun to explore! cw: butt stuff, mutual masturbation, unedited.
You fancy yourself to be pretty sexually liberal - it doesn't phase you to talk about dirty stuff with friends, including their personal escapades. So when you hear Steve grumbling about all the dirty videos Eddie checks out, you know you're gonna tease him about it next time you see him. You don't really expect him to narrow his eyes and challenge you back by offering to pop in the one he just rented, but hey, why not? You shrug and say sure, not even bothering to ask what it's about, which Eddie seems amused by when he plops back down beside you on the couch, closer than he normally would be if he wasn't high. The film is typical - a 70s era tint, exaggeratedly sensual music, a ridiculous premise to lead into the fucking. You both giggle at the punny innuendos, muttering little quips back and forth, then finally fall quiet once the film makes its shift, leaning forward with interest. His elbow is hot when it brushes against you as he makes himself comfortable; you pull your legs up cross-legged, and when your knee nudges his thigh, you leave it there.
And that's where you thought it would remain: a smidge of lightly-loaded touching and some new fantasy material to touch yourself to later. What you didn't expect was for the guy to go from the standard 'two in the pink' while he eats her pussy to slipping his middle finger in her ass, pumping it in and out as she moans and fists her hand in his hair. Your clit throbs, and your belly tightens with a tingling heat, and you can't help but steal a glance at Eddie to see whether you're the only one affected. He's got his head tipped back against the couch while he watches the TV with a bloodshot, half-lidded gaze, and it's pulling the cords of his pale neck taut and making his adams apple look so prominent all of a sudden. Why is that erotic? you ask yourself, your eyes snapping back to the television when his chin nudges toward you like he's sensed you're looking at him.
"Uh--" You hear him clear his throat, just the tiniest bit hesitant, and you look back at him again. "How would you feel if, like..." Eddie wags his head slowly as if he's trying to find the words, though clearly he gives up going for subtlety when he finally finishes, "I jacked off right now?"
The thought makes your clit positively ache, but you play it cool, shrugging again as you tell him, "Sure."
The next moment he's fumbling eagerly with his belt like maybe he'd been feeling as needy as you are. You try not to look when he pulls himself out, but between the guy on screen burying himself between her legs and the constant moaning, you really can't help yourself. Eddie's cock is real ruddy at the tip, so much redder than his hand when it disappears into his fist, and the way he flicks his wrist with such practiced ease makes you think about how many times he's likely sat on this couch touching himself like this until he cums all over his twitching abdomen. God, that's fucking hot to imagine.
And it wouldn't be weird for you to touch yourself too, right? Like, obviously, Eddie wouldn't care. And it's no big deal, really, touching yourself next to your friend, especially when you're already watching porn together. So you shove your hand down your pants, sighing quietly as you swipe the tips of your fingers over your clit, letting that tingle center and build there.
So there you are, sitting next to Eddie while you both watch this porno, pretending you're not listening to the tiny sounds of each others' pleasure and sneaking quick glances at your arms moving rhythmically over your own laps. It's already more than you would've expected when you came over thinking about teasing him. And you haven't even gotten to the good part yet: when the guy on screen turns over, spreading his legs so the girl can run her hands up the back of his thighs and nestle close to lick his ass.
Cause then you start thinking about something you never would've ever fuckin' thought you'd think of before. Namely, what it'd be like to see Eddie like that - on his knees, moaning for you while you lick his ass.
Fuck.
You glance to the side again and catch Eddie's wide brown eyes. He's looking at you too, and with the way he's biting his lip through a crooked grin, you're about to say 'fuck it' and ask if you can do it here and now, damn the implications to hell.
Sexually liberal, indeed.
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Three - Maxie
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.
On the third day, Max was ready to give up.
He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.
As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.
She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.
Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.
But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?
Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?
At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.
"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.
Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.
He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.
"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.
Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."
She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.
Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.
"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."
"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"
But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.
Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.
How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.
Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.
"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.
Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."
She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.
It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.
She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.
Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.
Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.
As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.
"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.
Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."
"Mr Du-"
But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.
"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"
Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."
She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.
A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."
With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.
right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it
Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa
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wileys-russo · 15 hours
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Mary Earps, "will you marry me"..."we're already married", nightclub/party/some sort of night out
marry me II m.earps
you weren't able to go to the game because of work but you'd heard how well mary played, score checking as often as you could when your boss wasn't looking though you knew he really wouldn't mind all that much being a united supporter himself.
finally on your afternoon break you'd had a chance to call her, getting the full recap on everything including what sounded like a rocket of a goal from both maya and ella, united going up 4-0 in one of their best games of the season.
it killed you to have to cut your wife off mid story but with only a couple minutes left mary was more than understanding as you promised to meet her with the team once you finished, not thinking you'd make it in time for dinner but they had plans to go out afterwards to a karaoke bar.
"-and i promise not to sing a single abba song until you arrive beautiful!" mary promised and you could hear the grin in her voice as you softened, the two of you having met when a rather tipsy mary had mistaken you for a friend and tried to sweep you off your feet to have a dance to voulez vouz years ago.
now it was your unspoken song, always making sure to get it requested whenever you went out with friends, the two of you in your own little bubble as you'd giggle and swing one another around like the lovesick idiots you really were.
telling her you loved her and again how proud you were of yet another clean sheet under her belt you ended the call and hurried back to your desk where a large number of emails awaited you.
you were somewhat grateful for how busy your afternoon was given that it made the rest of your shift fly past, your timer going to clock out jolting you from your chair almost as you saved the doc you were working on and shut down your monitor.
collecting your things you said your goodbyes to your coworkers and headed out, wishing you'd bought a second jacket as you speed walked from the office to the tube, settling a little once you were inside and headed home.
it was the same story as you power walked from the station to the bus, and then from the bus stop to your flat you shared with your girlfriend. your new years resolution this year had been to use public transport to get to work at least twice a week.
given the business you worked for operated seven days a week and you only worked five including like today the occasional weekend it was going quite well so far, even if also like today it was that little bit harder with the weather.
by the time you let yourself inside it was nearing half past seven, and still needing a shower and some food you sent your wife a message indicating as much with a promise to keep her updated on your eta.
you melted at her reply text, following her instructions and going to the fridge where indeed she'd already cooked you dinner earlier this morning, the food just needing to be heated up.
not wanting to chance spilling food on anything you ate before you showered, putting on the highlights of the match and watching on proudly with a smile, cheering as though you didn't already know the outcome.
finishing up you rinsed and stacked your bowl and the tupperware in the dishwasher which was nearly full, tossing a tablet in and clicking it on as you thanked your wife for the meal and ducked into the shower.
by the time you showered and changed, finally looking presentable, it was nearing nine and mary had already informed around twenty minutes ago they were headed to the bar from the restaurant and she'd see you there.
ordering an uber you slipped on your shoes and grabbed a jacket, greeting the driver but otherwise remaining quiet, grateful that he picked up on that and just turned the radio on as you messaged mary you'd arrived.
thanking the uber you stepped out and joined the small line to enter the bar, grateful for the jacket around your shoulders as a sharp breeze whipped through the night air.
you frowned a little when mary hadn't texted back, but assuming she just hadn't heard her phone you'd barely stepped foot into the bar before a couple of bodies tumbled into you.
"ya made it!" you laughed as millie lifted you into the air in a tight hug and ella hugged your other side, the two having spotted you enter from the bar as they hustled you back over with them to grab a drink.
you greeted a few more of the girls and their partners as you waited, looking around for your wife but unable to spot her. "you might want to prepare yourself babe." maya warned patting your shoulder and handing you your drink as you gave her a curious look.
"dumb and dumber here have been feeding mary shots so she's...a little bit tipsy." maya smiled apologetically as you chuckled, knowing from her tone that was clearly an understatement as you followed her back to the booths where most of the team was hanging around.
"hello beautiful!" you heard her before you saw her, the taller girl crashing into you as maya hurried to grab your drink from your hand or else you'd have wound up wearing it as your wife practically tackled you down onto the lounge.
"mary! watch out ya idiot." katie laughed with a shake of her head. "hi baby, having fun?" you smiled, taking your drink back off maya and settling it down on the table as mary sat up and nodded, arm draped securely over your shoulders.
"so much fun!" she giggled and you grinned at the bright red flush across her cheeks you knew only appeared when she'd had far too much to drink. "mm i can see that, whats this i hear about shots?" you teased sipping at your own drink.
"mary!" you groaned as you barely had a mouthful before the goalkeeper had taken it from your hand and downed it, her only response being to grab your face and smash her lips to yours causing your neck to warm and wolf whistles to ring out around you.
"okay okay! down girl." you laughed pushing at her chest as she again chased your lips with a grin. "no i missed ya, c'mere." she tugged at your dress as you shook your head. "you owe me a drink earps." you warned booping her nose with a grin.
"mary watch out!" you laughed again as she practically leapt over you and made a beeline for the bar, dragging millie along with her. "no more shots for her turner i mean it!" you yelled after them as millie only winked and you sighed.
turns out, there was more shots.
a couple of hours had passed since you'd arrived and having sung three times now both with your wife or friends you were ready to call it a night, mary barely able to hold her head up.
"i'm gonna get us an uber. can you help me get her up?" you chuckled to leah and millie, millie who had sobered up scarily fast considering you'd watched her do shot after shot with your wife who was near passed out on your shoulder.
"maz, baby. come on up we get, we're gonna head home!" you shook her lightly as her eyes fluttered open and she mumbled something incomprehensible and slumped back down. nodding to millie and leah once the uber was booked the girls helped mary up who thankfully could mostly walk herself once she was.
"for earps? thank you." you checked with the uber, leah shoving mary in the back as you sat down beside her and buckled her in, thanking both girls and waving them off as they made their way back inside.
"are we on the tube?" mary lifted her head squinting her eyes with a slur making you chuckle. "no you muppet, we're in an uber." you rubbed her knee as she hummed and collapsed into you with a grunt.
thankfully the bar wasn't too far from your flat as the uber pulled up outside and you gently pushed mary to sit up, exiting the car and quickly making your way to her door.
opening it you grunted as the girl near fell out, the sudden drop at least waking her up enough to allow you to pull her out of the car, closing the door and stumbling your way up the driveway.
"come on babe, work with me here!" you groaned as she leaned her much taller body into you with a moan and a mumble of something that wasn't english, your fingers freezing and struggling with the key in the door as you finally popped it open.
"down we go!" you dropped your wife onto the sofa as she giggled and blinked a few times, sighing as you hurried to the bedroom to change.
grabbing clothes for mary you joined her again in the living room rolling your eyes as she was now properly passed out, mouth hanging open and all.
"maz, maz baby." you crouched down beside her and poked at her as she groaned and swatted you away. "come on, we need to get you changed you idiot!" you laughed, shaking her a bit harder now as she awoke and you helped her groggily sit up.
"oh hello darling." mary slurred, grabbing your hands and tugging you down to sit on her lap. "when did you get here? i missed ya." she mumbled making you laugh and shake your head, well prepared to tease her relentlessly for this tomorrow.
you helped her get dressed, ignoring the comments about buying her dinner first and her little teenage giggles as with absolutely no assistance from your wife you managed to get her changed.
"you're so so beautiful." mary smiled lazily pulling you down onto her lap again making you sigh but crack a smile. "will you marry me? i think you should marry me." the goalkeeper grinned with hooded eyes making you laugh.
"we're already married my love." you grabbed her hand and held up your own, the taller girl squinting at the rings which sat on them. "oh lovely! tick that off the list then." she ticked mid air as you rolled your eyes.
"come on you big dope, time to go to bed with your wife."
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fandoms-in-law · 2 days
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Manual Mood Ring
Summary: To keep up popularity and the Harrington reputation Steve couldn't show many emotions. That didn't mean he didn't feel them, only that he didn't always recognise what feelings he hid. So he wore rings, swapped them out according to his moods. And a few people noticed them.
Authors note: It won the poll by 1 vote and honestly I'm glad about it. In typing the other fic up I realised how not finished it is. This has been a great fic to procrastinate work with over the last couple weeks, but I'm glad with where I finished it.
/\/\
Steve would never say, except to Robin, but it all began because of Eddie and curiosity. If the guys he'd been friends with at the start of high school had paid attention, they could've worked it out too, but none of them thought twice when the week after he noticed, and accidentally cause some bullying over, Eddie's rings, Steve came in wearing one of his own.
The ring, or rather rings, he wore weren't expensive, just simple things he'd spotted in a shop window, but somehow everyone thought it was a wealth thing when they noticed it and so far as Steve heard, nobody realised there were 6 different rings he'd swap out. They definitely didn't question when he swapped them either, not even Nancy.
Robin did know. She only admitted noticing them when Steve dragged her out to buy more after the Russians took his original rings and none of the government agents mentioned finding them. She was the one who asked about why he needed multiple rings when he'd only wear one at a time.
It didn't help the assumptions they were dating when Robin insisted on taking his hand to check which ring he was wearing every time they met up after the explanation that he used them as an indication or self check-in of his mood.
/\/\
Eddie knew Steve Harrington wore a ring. When he started to the gossip in Hawkins High said his father insisted on it due to a tradition but if that was the case then the ring was too plain in Eddie’s opinion.
Then he noticed Harrington changing rings after getting a question wrong in class and was certain the rumour was wrong, even if he couldn't figure out the actual reason for it straight away. After he'd seen that first swap, it was too clear for him to notice the times that the ring got changed, especially since he decided to try and figure out why Harrington would do that.
Spotting Harrington's ring enough to tell the differences in it wasn't easy in school, especially outside of their shared classes, but a theory soon grew in Eddie's mind of them being some sort of manual mood ring. This was only backed up when he visited Scoops Ahoy once or twice over the summer.
Before the fire Eddie even thought he was close to knowing what emotions some of the rings might indicate, but they all changed after that, not even one remained the same as before and, thankfully for Eddie's curiosity, the new ones had more noticeable differences.
With all his curiosity over Harrington's rings, it confused him to realise the kids he'd brought into Hellfire seemed to know nothing of them. Once Mike even commented ' Steve would be cooler if he just wore rings like Eddie's.' as if he wasn't already wearing one constantly. Eddie could spot it glinting on Harrington's finger when he picked them up afterwards, not hidden at all.
From paying attention to those lifts and Harrington's expressions and reactions to the brats gave Eddie some clues on what colour or general shape of rings matched good or bad moods, even if he never saw the detailing on them.
Except for one.
Eddie saw one ring in detail once. Hellfire had an extra club meeting that apparently none of the kids Harrington gave a lift to had mentioned to him until he came storming through the school half panicked. Even after confirming they were safe Harrington made everyone move along the table so he could sit next to Eddie and listen until the end.
The ring that time was in a woven pattern, made of silver and Eddie was certain it meant fear or stress. It had to, given how Harrington only looked away from his kids to watch the door or, for some reason, analyse the ceiling for damage and suspiciously eye the lights.
Who knew getting an answer about one of the rings meanings could give Eddie so many more questions?
/\/\
Survival and fear were the only things going through Eddie's mind. He didn't know what happened to Chrissie or if it would happen to him next. He didn't know if he was trying to hide from that or from the town he was sure would blame him.
He definitely wasn't calm enough to recognise any of the voices yelling for him and dived into the boat as they got closer.
The conversation of the group looking for him was heard but barely understood as Eddie tried to get ready to jump up and fight or run through the hard jabs from an oar he thought was mentioned.
It wasn't the oar or the gaze of the man he pinned that broke through Eddie's fear when he decided to get out.
The hand holding the oar wore a silver woven ring. It wasn't polished and definitely showed signs of tarnishing in the indented areas and it echoed how he felt. He knew the ring and what emotion he was certain it meant.
And he knew that other rings were kept in the back pocket from classes where they'd get swapped out. Those are what he reached for now, still pinning Harrington with one hand which made it harder to separate the bronze ring that tended to be worn if he'd be joking when picking the kids up.
“Guess you're not here to have a go at me, or this would be worn.” Eddie mutters eventually into the silence that had fallen in the boathouse.
“I wouldn't do that. Dustin would never talk to me again if I did that. And how do you know anything about my rings?” Steve's words tumbled past each other, but seemed more confused now, instead of the panic he'd shown when first getting pinned.
“What rings?” Dustin demanded, somewhere behind Eddie.
Steve glanced over, “Forget the rings actually. What happened? We want to help.”
/\/\
Steve hadn't changed his ring in days.
Eddie glanced at it each time they came to give him supplies, came to try and talk him into staying with one of them despite how they'd need to hide him from parents, every time he got the change to.
It was still the silver woven effect ring.
He could only hope he'd live to see another ring take its place and was beginning to suspect Steve was hoping the same thing. A few times he'd been caught looking at the hand wearing the ring, but Steve never said anything, only brought his hand back to the pocket with the rest of them.
“You got the bronze ring wrong.” Robin commented on one of the few moments everyone else was distracted. “It's not when Steve's truly happy or whatever you think.”
Eddie glanced at her, gaze returning to Steve straight away. “What is it then?”
“Forced positivity. It's when he's struggling to believe we want him here so tries to reach out subtly for most of them.” She explained.
“And you?”
“Check his rings when I first see him so give him reassurance as needed. Although you might've changed its meaning now.” Her words sounded slow as if she was musing on the idea. “We'll see after Vecna's defeated.”
Eddie wasn't quite sure what to make of that but Robin was already over with Steve again, catching up with whatever they were working on. At least being in hiding gave him lots of time to think through her cryptic comments for breaks from panicking.
/\/\
“That's my ring.” Eddie stated. He'd been staring at the hand since waking up, originally cause it was clinging tightly and then as his memories filtered through the medication clouding his brain, to see if Steve was still stressed out. How was he meant to understand seeing his own ring being worn by Steve?
Steve's chuckle was watery, and there were tears in his eyes when Eddie looked up. “Yeah, mine now. Glad you're awake finally.”
Somehow that was what made him realise he had none of his rings on at all. “Where are the rest? What does my ring have the honour of meaning?” They felt like dumb questions but Eddie was scared to ask the more serious ones.
“Dustin's got them and your pic necklace. He'll be here as soon as visiting hours start along with at least a few of the other brats. Not sure which are seeing you first today other than him. Wayne's at the trailer salvaging what he can. Added me as an emergency contact so you wouldn't wake up alone.” Steve offered, thankfully guessing what he'd want to know first. “As for the ring, I don't know. I've been a mess, unable to figure out what I'm feeling so it's currently a question mark ring.”
That felt like a familiar feeling as Eddie blinked. He had no clue why things would need salvaging from the trailer at all. “What happened?”
The explanation carried on through the kids arriving, Dustin trying to push the rings onto Eddie and being stopped by nurses not wanting the jewellery in the way, and plenty of interruptions and additions. It covered how the attack that had left him in an induced coma to heal had only partly succeeded and everything that had come after and ended with Steve pushing his hair back into place sighing, “Thankfully most of us decided against sleeping through it all. Vecna is gone now and we're just waiting for people to wake up and heal.”
“And get Steve to explain how he's worn a ring so long without us knowing.” Dustin insisted, glaring at said man.
Eddie grinned, shaking his head alongside Steve. “It's not the king's fault if his friends don't pay attention to him. After all, I'd never spoken to him before all of this and I knew about the rings.”
“Lies.” Robin called, appearing in the doorway. “You spoke to him precisely 7 times as I never served you when you came into Scoops.”
Steve tilted his head, thinking before he shook his head at her. “Nope. He just pointed and handed over the money. I spoke to him before it all, but not the reverse. Such an unsociable customer.”
“You couldn't get Eddie Munson to talk to you? That board needed more tallies under you suck.” Robin teased, coming over and smiling at Eddie. “How are you feeling?”
For a moment it was silent as Eddie didn't realise the Steve and Robin show had finished with a question to him. “Oh, I'm – Honestly I feel like I died and this is a bizarre form of purgatory. Could be hell from the pain levels but you're all being too nice for that.”
/\/\
Robin loved Steve's rings. She saw them as a small rebellion against his parents rigid views of gender as well as a good idea for someone who wasn't often allowed to express his emotions.
Even before she knew what they showed, back when they were just co-workers and former classmates, she paid attention to the rings and the ways Steve swapped them out. She knew the original set of 6 almost as well as she knew the ones she'd helped Steve find to replace them.
And she knew they definitely shouldn't be in Nancy Wheeler's jewellery box, still bagged with a label from the US government stating they had been goods confiscated by the Russians.
When she saw them it wasn't sensible to mention it. They were still dealing with Vecna and trying to find out more about him, but she remembered and once everything was over, and all that was left to do was healing, she wasn't going to stay silent any more.
“You know, Nancy, I've had a question for a while.” She stated, off hand, but laser focused on getting answers.
It was just her, Steve and Nancy for the moment so seemed like the best time to bring it up without anyone else interfering.
Nancy didn't seemed concerned either, just smiling. “Which is?”
“You never had anything to do with the Russians during the Starcourt fiasco, right?” Robin didn't immediately mention the rings, knowing just bringing up any of the events was likely to get the guard up of all of them.
Guarded eyes now looked at her, and beside her, Robin knew Steve was trying to catch her eye to silently ask what she was doing. “No. You know I was researching for the paper or with the kids basically the entire time.” Nancy agreed.
“Okay. So why, when we were trying to figure out info on Vecna, did I find a bag of items labelled as things the Russians had confiscated in your jewellery box?” Robin still didn't mention the rings, but knew Steve would immediately think of them.
After being given his keys back he'd tried asking about them but been told nothing else was found. Both of them had watched the government agent then go to talk to other members of their group but assumed that wasn't regarding any other items.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, but stood, going over to the jewellery box to get the bag. “Because the government agents said they'd found them and they seemed most likely to belong to me.”
Robin nodded, holding her hand out for the bag. “So little miss reporter got handed some items she knew definitely weren't hers and instead of say, asking any of the people who had actually been in the Russian base if they knew whose they were decided to keep them for herself and never question the origins?” She challenged, reaching out to take them when Nancy showed no sign of handing them over.
“I recognised them. I've tried remembering why I recognise them so I could return them.” Nancy insisted.
“Again, why didn't you just ask me, ask Steve, Dustin, Erica, if any of us knew who these rings belonged to?” Robin challenged, Steve's hand coming to rest palm up on her shoulder although he remained silently watching the scene.
Nancy glared, “Because I should know whose they are.” She snapped. “If I could just-”
“Pay more attention to the people around you, you'd know.” Steve interrupted when it looked like Nancy would go into a rant about her memory to try and justify not asking. “The reason you'd recognise these is I was always wearing one of them the entire time you knew me.” His voice was calm, but Robin could feel the tension in him, and a glance over at him showed his current rings had been swapped. She didn't think he'd go back to using the set she held even as she put the bag in his hand.
For a moment it looked like Nancy would scoff before she narrowed her eyes on Steve's hands, as if only just realising he still wore a ring. “But why would there be 6 of them?” She asked. “Only Eddie wears that many or more at a time.”
“Because I swap them out when I feel like it.” That wasn't the explanation Robin had received and she doubted the full one would be offered right now. “Thanks for returning them finally. I'm more annoyed that even when I asked specifically about the rings those agents didn't mention them to me at all.”
“Oh.” Nancy deflated as she realised Steve wasn't going to yell at her. She seemed not to notice Robin's gaze was still hard. “Yeah, sorry I didn't remember or, as Robin rightly said, ask whose they were earlier.”
At that Robin leant forward again, knowing her smile was colder than she'd normally direct at friends. “Please do ask if this happens in the future, because Steve shouldn't have had to replace his rings for you to delay solving a mystery this long.”
Nancy nodded, “I will. Are you two sure you aren't-?”
“Best friends and protective friends at that. You might be pretty but you aren't Stevie.” Robin reaffirmed, before sighing and trying to let her annoyance go. “Shall we put a film on or something?”
Steve hopped up, going to the stairs to listen for where Nancy's parents might be. “Probably not a film. I think Ted is still watching something, unless you're about to suggest going back to mine.”
“Funnily enough, Dingus, I was.” Robin agreed, also getting up. If she hadn't wanted to get him his rings back she'd have suggested going there to hang out from the start but now that was done she would happily swap hang out locations.
/\/\
Perhaps he'd just been young, but Steve had never thought he'd have to get more rings, after finding six of them. Emotions had seemed simple to him, nothing like the tumult he'd been going through and while six rings had stretched before now he was learning that getting more was necessary.
He didn't question how, in getting those original rings back, he knew that one already meant heartbreak and grief, while the rest weren't needed any more. It just seemed reasonable; an escalation of the swap from the ring saying everything is good to saying his world was crashing before he lost them, to now having its hopefully final meaning be grief.
Then there was Eddie's ring, the mixed feelings ring, or as Steve still thought of it, a question mark ring. He hadn't meant to claim it, but when taking the rings off so the hospital didn't dispose of them he hadn't been able to let it go, even to hand it to Dustin. He'd covered by swapping it out with the stressed ring and repeating that Eddie wanted him to wear a different ring.
Honour: A word Steve had only ever heard directed to him jokingly, but Eddie used for his ring being worn. It boggled his mind a bit to realise how sincere the other was being with him. A lot of things did when it came to Eddie, like the fact he'd called Steve a good person out of nowhere and without prompting. Most people just complained about or insulted who he used to be and when he tried talking with Robin about it she'd got mad at herself before repeating how good a person he was now. That hadn't helped his bewilderment, just added another cause for it.
“Dingus, why are you glaring at your rings and a notebook?” Robin asked, draping over his shoulder and bringing Steve's mind back into Family Video and the slow work day they were trying to keep busy through.
“I need more of them but don't want to go around with even more rings in my pocket. Or know how to label what feelings they'd be for.” He grumbled.
She leant closer, forcing Steve to bend with her so she could see the notebook better. “Yeah starting from scratch is dumb. Write what you have rings for already, Your terms not mine or anyone else's, and see what you think is missing after that. Then see which stand out as unlikely to be worn often. Those could live in your car or wallet or something instead of your pocket.” Saying this she moved to his side and laid the rings out on a clear page of the notebook.
As Steve considered the idea Robin wandered off to check on the only customer. It was a pretence he knew, but one he's grateful for, even as the biggest necessity in his list becomes evident.
There's nuance, and different rings for sadness, anger, confusion, embarrassment, heartbreak, but only 'good' and 'trying to see positives' for good emotions. Good was one he barely knew how to quantify now and 'trying to see positives' didn't actually feel good to wear. But Steve wasn't feeling constantly bad, he knew that. He felt hopeful, amused, warm, and loved; like these friends were a real family.
Plus the question mark ring was where good and bad emotions were fighting in him.
“Do you think Eddie will come ring shopping with us?” He called out, settling on the four emotions he needed new rings for and looking around the store for the first time in a while.
“I think I can fit that in, yes Stevie.” Eddie replied, leaning on the counter opposite him. Robin was stood beside him looking over at Steve in amusement.
He shifted a little, looking between them, expecting to get teased. “You've been here how long?”
“Couple minutes, was going to block the page to say hi but you looked so adorably focused.” Eddie shrugged. “Are these all your current ring meanings? You've still not told me-” The words broke off as he read the list, fingers tapping over empty spots noted for new rings
Robin had started snickering, needing no words to tease once Steve met her gaze, but stopped in confusion at Eddie's reaction. “Sure they are. He's decided he needs to show more emotions than that now.”
“Like more positive ones, you mean?” He asked, a sharp gaze stabbing at her. “Little Miss Platonic, why haven't you told him to get more or change all the meanings so he doesn't only have negative emotions to show sooner?”
“What?” The demand was when Steve realised their focus might be surrounding him but it didn't currently involve him. “When did those change?”
He blinked at them, seeing a tussle break out for the notebook and wondering what Robin meant as he glanced as the ring on his finger now, bronze, looking for positivity, then back to her. “They didn't?” He asked, trying to remember what he'd told her they meant. He'd probably described situations which made him change to each ring he was replacing after Starcourt since describing his feelings isn't easy without them. “What did you think they meant?”
Instead of saying anything she snatched the pen to start writing her understanding of the rings down, Eddie's eyes getting wider as he read them. “That's – That's some difference.”
“Did I explain when I'd swap to wearing them before?” Steve asked, unable to read upside down and just getting frowned at as Robin made it clear he had and she didn't like the meaning mix-up it had apparently caused. “You still know how to help anyway.” He tried to reassure, hoping to lessen the glare.
“Just how pissed should I be at Nancy?” Robin demanded instead, angrily gesturing to the embarrassment ring. “How much didn't you say when I thought you might date her again?”
Both Steve and Eddie stepped back from her anger as Steve frantically tried to remember what he'd used to explain that ring and how it involved Nancy. “You literally said you didn't need to know that story.”
“Apparently I do now if just her visiting your workplace has you feeling embarrassed enough to change rings over it.” Robin insisted. “So, story-time please Steve. What happened with Nancy Wheeler?”
/\/\
“Did you argue with Buckley?” Jonathan asked, sitting down beside Nancy and taking in the glare levelled at them.
She looked over as well but soon looked away. “The rings were Steve's. She found them but didn't seem this mad then.”
For a moment he just nodded, before straightening to look for Steve. “I didn't imagine the rings he used to wear then? I guess between you giving them back and now we've been spoken about. Makes sense I think.”
“What does?”
“Steve's best friend being pissed when he told her what happened between us three. I did wonder if she knew anything beyond the rumours.” He explained, waving when Steve emerged from the kitchen.
Nancy stared, trying to understand how Robin's anger came from that, even as she smiled at Steve coming over.
“You two okay? Your move back to Hawkins going well?” Steve asked, relaxed, a ring shaped into a shield on his hand.
“We're good, are you?” Jonathan asked, but carried on without pausing for a reply, “Realised that we never apologised for everything during that Halloween. I thought you'd broken up honestly, until Dustin said you were taking flowers to Nance when he asked for help.”
“I'm good and thank you. It's all history now and I'm pretty sure there was no coming back from that argument. I'm sorry for everything bad I did back then too. Some fault on both sides, I think.” Steve hurried to accept the apology but followed Nancy's gaze when she looked back over to Robin. “And Robs will calm down soon enough. She just got the meanings of some of my rings wrong and is mad about it.”
“What meanings do they have?” Nancy asked, glancing back at the ring he currently wore. “Eddie too? He did the hand hold thing too today.”
His nose scrunched but he looked amused, “Yeah but also no. That's cause Henderson tried using Robin's ring checking as evidence I'm dating her and Eds wants to see if he'll insist the same for someone else doing it. I'm preparing for anything Robin does to me to get copied or escalated for a while.”
“You're cool with that?” Jonathan challenged, looking shocked at the thought and Nancy could remember their fight from years back, wondering if that was why.
“Robin would kill me if I wasn't. Plus it means my empty home is a lot noisier with laughter now.” Steve mused. “Yeah, I'm pretty happy about Eddie's game.” As he finished speaking his hand dipped into his back pocket, a practised gesture that seemed absent enough to be unnoticeable as his ring was swapped out while he looked around the gathering. “I'd better check the kids aren't causing trouble over there.”
There was silence between them for a moment as he headed away. “So that's the first time I've actually seen that happen.” Jonathan eventually commented.
“No wonder. If he hadn't just mentioned his ring I'd have missed it.” She agreed, wondering why Steve would hide the gesture but do it so openly. It was more evidence that she hadn't known him as well as she thought.
/\/\
Dustin was getting frustrated. He'd thought it was a blatant lie when Robin said she was checking Steve's ring each time she took his hands upon greeting. Then he'd thought maybe it was valid but still an excuse after noticing them was what started calming Eddie down in the boat-shed.
Now Eddie kept waiting behind Robin as she checked Steve's rings, draping himself over the side of him left free when they watched movies. It was getting honestly difficult to get a hold of either of them separately and Dustin didn't trust it.
“Why are you leading Eddie on?” He accused one of the few times Steve picked him up without the other already in the car.
“I'm not, but thanks, really flattering view of me you have there.” Steve huffed.
Dustin narrowed his eyes, “You're straight Steve.” He stated as if he was being dumb. “Why are you accepting his flirting when you aren't into him? Are you going to hurt him?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “One, that's not for you to question for me. Neither of us are going to get hurt. Two, Eddie checked and keeps checking we both know where we stand in this. Three, thanks for winning me that bet.”
“Bet? What bet?” He demanded but they'd pulled up in the trailer park and Eddie was already climbing in.
He'd clearly heard the question and leaned over Steve's seat, pulling his hand up to check the ring while asking, “Yeah Stevie, what bet are you telling Dustin about?”
“One I won cause he got in telling me off for leading you on.” He smirked, taking his hand back to pull off again. “Seatbelt.”
“As if I wouldn't follow you anywhere, Big boy. Keep leading.” Eddie remarked flippantly before swatting at Dustin, “But talk about clouded vision, Shithead. So when Robin does it they're dating but I do it and I'm being led on.”
Dustin spluttered for a moment, but Steve's smirk got sharper, “So that's me and Robin one each, you none. Lucas could be anyone's but I think you have a shot at Mike.”
/\/\
Robin helped Steve find it, the final ring he’d buy for himself hopefully. She’d helped with everything else in his realisations since Eddie’s game began and was trying to make him share his feelings with Eddie now.
The ring had been both Steve’s way to delay that admission and his hope that Eddie would bring the conversation up for him. If only because he had no intention of advertising the feeling it meant at all.
It should have worked too, except he was never wearing the ring when Eddie first arrived, never able to get privacy when the change was noticed by the other and didn’t see how it could change with their kids all wanting attention constantly. He almost felt like his crush was doomed to silence and Robin’s teasing over it but refused to accept it, adapting instead. He started swapping rings when even slightly feeling besotted, hearing Dustin raving over something Eddie had done or a song reminding him of the other. Steve even started practising demanding private moments and dragging Robin off during her greetings, just waiting for Eddie to question this new ring.
“Is it my turn to ask for a private chat, big boy?” Eddie asked, finally seeing Steve’s latest ring worn as he arrived.
Everyone else was filing through the house to the kitchen or Steve’s pool and barely glanced their way as Steve tugged Eddie upstairs, blush only noticed by Robin as they went.
“You like my ring then?” He asked only after they were alone. It was partly to delay the admission, but mostly a genuine question. When looking for this ring he’d specifically wanted something that reminded him of Eddie’s rings and the coiled serpent design seemed fitting.
/\/\
Eddie for the first time in a while didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ramble about how much he liked it and wanted a similar one for himself; wanted to interrogate Steve on this new ring when he’d been resolute on pairing rings up if he found an emotion missing from their meanings in the future; wanted to ask if it was a way to get his attention.
It was mostly the last of the list actually, but that felt too vulnerable to say.
“It’s metal, but why? You said you didn’t want to get any more after our shopping spree.” He asked, holding back all the words trying to tumble out.
Steve fell backwards onto his bed, heaving a sigh and making Eddie wonder if he’d asked the wrong thing. “Because a crush isn’t as simple an emotion to indicate and I didn’t want you to make similar errors to Robin if I paired it up with other rings straight away.” He muttered to the ceiling.
Hope flickered to light where it had dimmed at the sigh. “A crush? On who?” There was a guess, especially with how Dustin had been distracted from his questions the week before, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
“You.” Steve said, rolling onto his side and watching Eddie as he stood just beside the door, never having moved since they came in.
He moved now, taking the hand and brushing his thumb over Steve’s ring. “That explains why you weren’t wearing it when I wasn’t around at first, but not why you’re wearing it now.”
“Will mentioned you earlier, some of the chats you’ve had with him over Mike.” He hummed.
“Your love for those kids is cute.” Eddie grinned, kneeling on the bed beside him. “It also doesn’t say what you want to happen now. You seem plenty happy with me copying how Robs treats you but are you wanting more than that?”
Everything in Eddie was screaming to just ask for more, or lean down and kiss Steve, or do something other than gently prying more details out from the gorgeous boy rolling around on the bed.
“Maybe you could kiss me too sometimes, see how we feel about going further when my house isn’t full of everybody else.” Steve smirked up at him, as if reading the desires on his face. “Oh and invitations to either your band practices or performances. I want those too. Who knows maybe the Corroded Coffin boys could just fit in with this chaotic family of ours over time.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, leaning so their lips were millimetres apart. “Want to join our families? You already thinking of marriage, big boy?”
Steve leant up for a small kiss, “Forever with you sounds like torturous bliss. Where do I sign up?”
“I think you already have.” They both grinned into the deep kiss Eddie pulled him into then.
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krowlovesinazuma · 3 days
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Alright I ask for headcanons yet again Except this time for once I'm not insane How would Chiori react to the reader preferring their own clothes over Teyvat's? (Judging from the overall complexity of Genshin Impact's outfits, I can deduce that our modern-day clothing probably feels a lot more comfy)
Read this prologue for context!
Scenario: Reaction to Reader's casual dress style
Characters: Chiori
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For starters, Chiori is an incredibly forward person on purpose, no matter who she's dealing with, no matter how powerful or all mighty they might be, and even though you may be special in a different way, it's no difference to her.
When she sees your clothes for the first time, her mind takes a moment to properly process it. She hadn't actually imagined what you looked like before, but an otherworldly fashion style wasn't in her mind! She'll definitely rope you into checking out your outfit sooner than later.
With this check though, she's quick to realize that your outfit, made of a simple t-shirt and jacket, is made with comfortability and casual vibes in mind. Just to make sure, she'll ask plenty of questions! Mostly out of curiosity.
As soon as she confirms this theory, she'll get started on measuring you up, and making a new outfit of her own! She understands now that you prefer comfortability over style, but that doesn't mean she'll let you walk away without something of hers on.
She'll probably make a few prototype sets to understand what you find comfortable in clothes, as she was very much specialized in fancier, high status clothing making! It's a challenge she very much welcomes, no matter how much you may protest her attempts.
In the end though, she is primarily doing this for you, to help you feel more at home in this weird place. She knows the effects that clothing can have not only in onlookers, but one's sense of self, and she's here to help out with that.
Once you sound satisfied, and select which of her prototypes you liked best, she'll make a set only for you, making sure to stop progress on her other orders until this one is finished. It'll be a secret endeavor, as she knows the value in keeping your name hidden.
That'll be far from it, however. Don't be surprised if you get gifts from her every now and then with more sets of comfortable, yet fashionable clothing! Making sure to put in an Inazuman flare for you to fit in best, every piece was original and unique.
Whenever you feel the urge to thank her, she simply cuts it short and continues on. In fact, since this is her way of thanking you, she can't help but take it as something endearing, how you failed to see how much you've already done for her.
She hasn't forgotten the kindness and happiness that you showed her when you still controlled the game world from outside, and this is just her returning a due favor. You definitely notice the difference when interacting with the others, as they feel more at ease with your more familiar clothes. Perhaps she was right about your previous clothes being a problem...
"How would you say that set is compared to the last? Yes, these are important questions. This has been quite the enjoyable riddle, but I can only improve with feedback, and you're my only target audience. Don't worry about rushing it, just think deeply and answer me in detail, for the sake of a better set next time."
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mactavishenjoyer · 13 hours
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Unlike Ghost Soap's family wasn't murdered. Just a series of advents. Suicide is what took his father. Alcoholism is what took his mother. She ended up passing after two years of dialysis. That's what soap remembers the most about her. That she didn't listen to anyone that tried to help her. That she was mean in those last two years. That he had felt guilty when he was just tired of taking care of her. Him and his brother ended up in foster care. Getting split up but finding each other surprisingly quickly when his brother hit 18. His brother died in a car crash a year later. 19 was too young to go but death didn't care. His brother was the only person Soap buried. He deserved to rest somewhere nice. Instead of sitting in a box shoved into some closet like their parents. Soap must have been around 27 when he had actually spread his parents ashes. It only took 15 years to do so but he did it. Something he'd never admit out loud was that he didn't care. It felt wrong but it just wasn't a big deal. The only time he remembered crying over his family was burying his brothers smashed and unrecognizable body. Soap doesn't talk about it. Not because he wants to keep it hidden but because he is tired of the train of "I'm sorry" that comes with telling people. It annoyed him. He would also never say that out loud. He'd never tell someone that it was a waisted sorry. That he truly didn't care that his parents were gone. Paired with his career people would think he was crazy. They'd think that he lacked emotions when that was far from the case. He knew his emotions well. He knew the feeling of dread that washed over him when Simon didn't finish a solo mission in the estimated time. He knew the fear that ran through him that he'll pick up a call just to hear that Kyle didn't make it. He knew the terror that coursed through his body when Price would go dark. He knew the panic that would set in when Gary would get split up from another member. He knew he loved his team. He knew this was his family. He knew that he'd be lost without them.
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kpop---scenarios · 2 days
Text
Whiplash (3)
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Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin
Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers
Warnings: Violence, Language, Smut [18 + Minors do not interact!]
Word Count: 3.4k
Tag List: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner
Part One | Part Two
“You absolutely are not.” Hyunjin deadpans. “It's not safe.” You look at him and Felix with a less than impressed look.
“You guys hid this from me for years, I want to see what it's about.” You tell them. “Not to mention if it's not safe, then neither of you should be going.”
Both men look at each other as you look at Felix with a cute smile on your face, and of course, he caves, in record time too. He grabs your hand, pulling you towards the door with a frustrated Hyunjin in tow. You slide into the backseat of the car as Hyunjin gets into the front with Felix. You were nervous, but you were also excited to see what was going to happen.
You did your best to try and ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as Hyunjin drove to the spot. You had assumed it would be on some busy street, making it even more dangerous, but it wasn't. The three of you pull up to an abandoned road that is hidden by some trees. It went on for miles with a few curves, so to the racers, it was absolutely perfect.
“Y/N.” Hyunjin starts as he parks the car. “Stay behind us, please. There's a lot of dangerous people that will be here, and if we're not around, find one of the guys.” He says. The three of you get out of the car, walking towards the large circle of people that has gathered. There were even more people than at the party, you couldn't believe how popular this was.
“Who's racing?” You ask, linking your fingers with Felix and Hyunjin on the other side of you. The two men glance at each other, avoiding your question as they pull you through the crowd and into the middle of the circle, where San and his group stand across from the group of your friends. your stomach sinks as you watch each of them eye each other up. They all looked like they were ready to start and all out fight.
“Racers, step forward.” Someone yells. You watch as San steps away from his group, standing in front of them, with another man you didn't know. Chan and Changbin turn to look at Felix and Hyunjin, they both let go of your hands, each one giving you a small kiss before stepping out in the front, standing in front of San and the other man.
“They're racing? No, Chan, please. What if something happens?” You ask. He looks at you with an apologetic look. “Look, They're the best. They'll be okay, promise.” Chan half smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, giving you a small squeeze. You watch as Hyunjin and Felix get into a car you didn't recognize, Felix sitting behind the steering wheel. The cars start, both revving their engines as they wait for the flag to drop.
Seconds later, it drops, and all the tires squeal as they peel down the road, the cars drifting from the force. They leave your sight almost in a blur. You could barely hear the cheers of the crowd as your heart pounded in your ears. You were terrified something was going to happen to them. That couldn't happen. You had just gotten them. You needed more time. You reach down, grasping to Chan's hand as you listen to the revving of the engines, sounding so far away. Your grip doesn't loosen, especially in the minutes you stand there waiting to hear something, anything. You wanted to hear a motor, an engine, as long as it wasn't a crash. Please, don't let them crash. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you hear the cars coming closer. Your eyes shoot open, seeing them just around the corner, the red car Hyunjin and Felix are in, now taking the lead. Your grip tightens on Chan's hand as you watch them come closer and closer. You can see San screaming and swearing inside the car, hitting the steering wheel as Felix and Hyunjin cross the finish line seconds before him.
Felix and Hyunjin exit the car, victory grins spread across their faces. Seconds later, a crowd gathers around them, cheering them on. You let go of Chan's hand, running towards the group, pushing your way through the crowd, standing in front of them before they both wrap their arms around you. As everyone celebrates, you can vaguely hear San yelling about something.
“Nah, fuck them man, they fucking cheated.” He yells, pointing to Felix and Hyunjin. As you look up, San pushes through the crowd, shoving people out of his way until he stands face to face with Felix and Hyunjin. He doesn't say anything to them, just stares at them, fuming and vibrating with anger.
“How the fuck did you cheat?” He yells, shoving Hyunjin, which almost knocks you down but Felix catches you.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Felix yells, grabbing onto your wrist, guiding you behind him.
“You two are my fucking problem.” He snaps. “There's no way you should have fucking won that, it's bullshit.” San snaps.
“Take the loss man, next time, just try to make sure you're better.” Felix smiles, patting San on the shoulder which very clearly pisses him off even more. San lunges for Felix. Felix is pushed back by San, hitting into you, knocking you into the ground. Felix turns his head, glancing at you quickly to make sure you're okay before he looks back at San. Before he can do anything, Chan is grabbing onto the sleeve of Felix to pull him away. “Cops!” He yells, pulling Felix and Hyunjin who is now helping you up. You're all running to the car, sliding in without seat belts as Hyunjin speeds off, kicking up rocks as he leaves the parking lot. The three of you pass 4 cop cars with their lights on and sirens blaring as they head towards the abandoned street. Worry fills up your stomach as you look back at them, watching them turn, and hoping they don't turn around to come after you.
the three of you pull up to the house, and you feel like you can breathe. While being stressed out, you also felt an amazing sense of adrenaline rushing through your body.
“Wow!” You exclaim as the three of you walk into the house. “You guys do that all the time?” You ask. They nod nod their heads.b
“I was so fucking nervous when you guys started racing, but the scattering before the cops got there was such a rush!”
“We get that all the time during the races.” Felix laughs.
Your eyes go wide. “Can I be in the car during one?” You ask.
Both men look at each other, unsure of how to answer. “Let us uh, think about that.” Hyunjin smiles.
“Thank you for bringing me and letting me into your world.” You smile, kissing each of them on the cheek. “Where are the others?”
“Probably at the clubhouse. They stay there often.”
“You have a clubhouse too!? What the fuck.” You laugh. “Anything else you wanna tell me?” You ask, letting out a big yawn.
“Come on, let's go to bed.” Felix says, guiding you to his room. You wondered how this was going to work, especially between the three of you. You walk onto the room, Felix begins rummaging through his drawers and then hands you a large t-shirt.
“You can wear this to bed.” He smiles as he and Hyunjin take off their shirts. You swear you would have started drooling if you hadn't stopped yourself.
“fuuuck.” You whisper as you wander to the bathroom to change.
“You know you don't have to change in there. We are your boyfriends.” Hyunjin yells through the door.
“Is that what you are? I thought we were friends.” You joke back. Yes, they were your boyfriends but it had just happened that night. You were going from best friends who had only seen you in your underwear and a bra by accident to being with them and being fully naked. It felt surreal and you would need time to remember that you're not just friends anymore. You come out of the bathroom, Felix’s shirt hanging off your body. Both men smile at you as they lay on opposite sides of the bed, your spot in the middle waiting for you. You let out another big yawn as you crawl into the bed, getting under the covers. You lay on your side, facing Hyunjin as Felix scoots closer to you, spooning you.
You want to talk to them more, be awake with them but you're exhausted, the adrenaline wearing off now. You close your eyes, only wanting too for a second but you fall asleep almost instantly with two men wrapped around your body.
The next morning you wake up, feeling slightly empty. You open one eye, seeing Hyunjin was already out of the bed and gone. It was just you and Felix, whose hard chest was pressed right up against you, along with something else that was hard, pressed against your ass. You close your eyes again, wiggling yourself against him, listening to his breathy moans in your ear as you press against him harder.
“Fuck. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He groans, rolling himself over, pinning your hands down to the best. He leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You take no time deepening the kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue slide in. Felix lowers himself onto you even more, rubbing his hard cock on you, teasing you. You break the kiss, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please.” You gasp.
“Do you need more, baby?” He asks, a smirk on his face. You nod your head as he moves his body down yours. He lifts up your shirt, exposing your naked pussy. “I've been wondering how you taste.” He whispers as you lift your legs and spread them for him. Felix positions his face between your legs, moving in to lick a small strip up your pussy, causing you to gasp and buck your hips. He holds you down as he uses the tip of his tongue, gently flicking your clit, making you desperate for more.
“Please.. more.” You cry out, trying to grind yourself against his face. You can hear him chuckle into your pussy as he starts rolling his tongue against you, managing to get an almost perfect suction. You lift up your shirt, exposing your tits. You roll your nipples between your fingers as Felix uses the flat part of his tongue to lick you hard, moving up the length of your slit until he latches his lips to your clit, sucking hard.
“Oh fuck.” You cry out, trying harder to grind against his face. You could feel your orgasm bubbling up inside of you and you needed him to move faster. “Faster. Please. Fuck.” You gasp, your hands moving to his head, grasping onto a clump of his hair. Felix's tongue moves faster switching between swirling, licking and flicking your clit. He easily slides two fingers inside of you bringing your orgasm faster.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.. I'm cumming.” You cry out, your hips buck up as he continues sucking on your clit, helping you ride your high just a little longer. You let go of his hair, running your hands through your own hair as you try to catch your breath.
“That was so fucking hot.” Felix says, licking all the cum from his face. He quickly gets rid of his boxers, sitting down on the bed. You crawl over to him, licking your lips at the sight of his large, hard cock standing up for you. You wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it, licking up the pre-cum that had been dripping from him. You inch down his cock, little by little until he hits the back of your throat. Felix groans, thrusting his cock deeper, making you gag. You pull your mouth off of him and he leans back, leaning against his headboard. You move closer to him again, crawling up to him, squatting over his cock. You line yourself up, slowly sinking yourself down on him. You gasp loudly as he stretches you out. You throw your head back as you sit on him, slowly rocking back and forth. Felix places his hands on your hips, rocking you faster. He leans forward, wrapping his lips around your already perky nipple, sucking hard as you begin to bounce on his cock. He releases your nipple, holding you up to instead quickly thrust inside of you. You moan louder and louder with each thrust.
“Be louder for me, baby.” Felix groans, feeling his own orgasm coming quickly. You moan louder, crying out in pleasure as he fucks you harder and faster.
“Shit I'm gonna cum.” He grunts.
“Cum in my pussy. Please fuck cum in me.” You cry out, your own orgasm exploding through your body, tightening yourself around his cock. Seconds later Felix cums deep inside you.
You sit on his cock for a second, catching your breath until you finally roll off, your legs feeling like complete jello.
“I need to shower.” You breathe, trying to crawl out of the bed. You slowly make your way to the bathroom, only closing the door behind you before you turn on the water to hot.
As you wet your hair and rub the water all over your body, you hear the bathroom door open and then shut.
“Hello?” you call out. No one answers. The shower curtain is pulled back, revealing a naked and hard Hyunjin.
“Can I join you?” He smirks. A grin plasters on your face as you nod your head yes. Your pussy was sore, but you would never say no to either of them and if you ever did, something was wrong with you.
Hyunjin walks into the shower with you, grabbing your body and pulling you into him. He leans in, kissing you on the lips for a second, before moving to your neck and chest. As he peppers you with kisses you reach out, grabbing his cock. He moans in your ear as you gently jerk him, his head now resting in the crook of your neck. He pulls your hand off of him, turning you around and bending you over. your hands are on the wall of the shower as he shoves two fingers inside of you, making you cry out.
Fuck you felt needy. You desperately needed his cock to slide inside you right at that moment.
“Fuck me, please Hyunjin.” You beg.
“Mhmm that's what I like to hear.” He groans. He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing his cock inside of you.
“Holy shit.” You cry out, holding onto the wall a little harder. For a second he starts out slow, but then he pulls out of you before ramming his cock back inside of you, over and over again. He reaches around you, grabbing your tit as he thrusts deep inside you. His hand moves down your stomach, making its way between your lips, to your clit. He begins rubbing you, he loves feeling you squirm from it while his cocks inside you.
“Your pussy feels so fucking good.” He groans, rubbing your clit a little faster. You can feel your orgasm building quickly.
“Shit.. harder.” You cry out. He manages to fuck you harder and faster, until you finally cum, all over his cock.
“That's my girl.” He groans, his hands now on your hips as he rams his cock deeper and deeper. Your arms were getting weak from holding the wall now, you were exhausted and ready for a nap. Hyunjin rams himself into a few more times before pulling out, jerking his cock until he cums all over your back.
“Fuuuck.” He moans, as he milks himself for all his cum. You're breathing heavily as you stand up, your whole body shaking. Hyunjin quickly cleans off your back for you, making you laugh.
“Why did you cum on my back?” You ask.
“I just.. wasn't sure.” He chuckles.
You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear. “Next time, cum inside me.” You whisper, turning off the water and getting out of the shower. You wrap a towel around your body and your hair, stepping out into the room, Felix nowhere in there. Hyunjin comes out behind you, kissing your shoulder before heading to his own room to get dressed.
You put on your outfit from the night before and head out into the living room. The boys are all sitting around, while Chan is on the phone. Changbin, Han and Seungmin look at you, wiggling their eyebrows and snickering.
“Oh whatever.” You scoff, laughing with them. You had been a little loud this morning.
“Everything okay?” Changbin asks Chan, who sits in a chair, looking annoyed.
“San has requested a rematch. He wants to race you two again at a different spot.” He explains.
“We're not betting the mods again.” Felix deadpans.
“Nah, $50k this time.” Hyunjin and Felix nod their heads as you stand there with your mouth hanging open.
“I'm sorry.” You say. “Fifty thousand.. as in dollars?” You ask.
“Yes..” Chan replies. “Dollars.” He looks towards Hyunjin and Felix. “He sent the coordinates. Google it, check it out and make sure you know the route.”
“When's the race?” Han asks.
“Tonight.” Chan sighs.
**
Hours later you return to the house, in a fresh set of clothes and a pair of pj's and another set of clothes ready incase you end up staying the night again. Both Felix and Hyunjin insisted that you sit this one out tonight but there was absolutely no way you were missing it. As you, Felix and Hyunjin drove to the spot, the car was quiet. You were slightly worried that they were mad at you for not listening but you didn't speak up. You didn't want to upset them more before the race. An hour later, the three of you pull into an empty parking lot, drive through to the woods to find a very large crowd of people waiting.
San and his group were already there, drinking and being rowdy and you were nervous.
“Are you mad at me?” You blurt out before getting out of the car. They both turn their heads to look at you.
“What?” Hyunjin asks.
“No?” Felix answers.
“Okay, just wanting to make sure.” You smile, hopping out of the car. You make your way through the crowd, finding Jeongin and Lee Know, grabbing onto their hands as Felix and Hyunjin stand before San.
“No fucking cheating this time.” San yells, pointing at the two. They just laugh, heading for the car that Han brought, the same one that made them win last time.
You watch all they rev their engines, waiting to be able to go. You see before the flag drops, San has already started moving. It drops and Felix and Hyunjin go, already behind San. You were worried now and wondered if you were the only one to notice that San cheated. You hear the squeals of the tires as they turn corners. It felt like a lifetime before they came back into view, Felix and Hyunjin in first place. They pass the finish line, with San only seconds behind. You run through the crowd to greet them and congratulate them but that worried feeling hasn't gone away. San comes storming over, again, yelling about them cheating. As he raises a fist, not even letting them talk first you step up.
“Why are you trying to pass the blame, San?” You yell. “I saw you. You started going before the fucking flagged dropped.”
You can hear everyone murmuring, talking amongst themselves about what you said. San looks around at everyone glaring at it.
“I didn't fucking cheat!” San yells, looking around at everyone.
“Did anyone record it?” You ask. Someone puts their hand up, bringing their phone to you.
“Why don't you just shut the fuck up!?” San screams, shoving you hard. You fall back, your head cracking on a large rock that was behind you. Hyunjin and Felix are at your side, you're unconscious, blood spilling from your head.
“Someone help her! Please!”
96 notes · View notes
xeas · 2 days
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Can you please do a Norton and fool's gold with a reader where the reader has cinnamoroll personality (cinnamoroll is from sanrio)
MIND OVER MATTER IS MAGIC!
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🍍 IN WHICH: drabbles (seperately) of Norton Campbell and Fool's Gold with a reader who is like cinnamoroll from sanrio (basically, shy yet sweet who will also help out their friends whenever they can)
🥥 NOTE FROM XEA!: thank you so much for your request! i love writing for norton but im wary my fools gold may ooc...haha...
🫧CONTENT WARNINGS: pre-established relationship, Norton may appear overprotective, mc may appear to be 'pure and innocent' in a fashion that may be perceived as corny to some readers. reader is referred to as "doll" in Norton's section, "babyface" in Fools Gold's. Seer is mentioned and Grave keeper is implied in Fools Gold section. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
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NORTON CAMPBELL; The Prospector
NORTON swears up and down he's done nothing worthy of him deserving you.
The way your thumb grazes his knuckles in a comforting manner--whether to soothe your own nerves or his is unsure-- but the expression of innocence coated on your face both makes his heart sink to his stomach and gives him butterflies.
You have the eyes of someone who has gazed at few possible traumatic scenarios and the skin of one who not been lashed by the harsh truths of the world. He squishes down his feeling of envy when he feels he's going too far down the rabbit hole of his thoughts.
But now, as he bandages up your wound from the cold Night Watch, he can't help but realize how that weighs you down. It wasn't supposed to be you with the gash in your thigh it was supposed to be the teammate you wasted no time saving. You took a hit for them, and for what? So they could have a futile 5 seconds to run as fast as they could only for the harsh winter wind to yank them back to the hunter? You we're such a fool, having so much faith in these people.
But that's what led you two to become such a power couple. You gave him a chance.
"Norton-"
"Hush up, doll." And you do just that.
He looks angry and you feel nervous because of it.
"I'm sorry for getting injured." You mumble quietly. You don't expect a 'Its fine' or a 'Its not your fault' because this was a rookie mistake and you by no means are a rookie.
He remains silent, finishing up dressing your wound. His gloved hands go to hold your thighs as you sit in some corner of burned down building in the Arms Factory.
"Don't do that again." He states. Its not up for debate and you silently nod, moving to give his forehead a kiss as you steady yourself to get up and work on getting out of here.
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NORTON CAMPBELL; Fools Gold (Hunter Identity)
"Hm, shame. Really."
Fools Gold let out a teasing laugh as he shoved you into a chair. He leaned on the wall behind it as you glared up at him. Fools gold clicked his tongue (does he even have one??) and fake pouted, most likely mocking you.
"D'aw, don't look at me like that, Babyface. You wouldn't be like this if you didn't sacrifice yourself for that silly little seer."
At least he was brutally honest.
Your muscles are screaming at you and you can feel them throbbing after you spent the last 2 minutes running and jumping and rolling to get away from him.
He traces your jawline with his pickaxe, you can feel your face heat up as Fools Gold lets out a wheezing chuckle. "All bark huh?"
You try to stutter out a response not until you see the ground beside you break. This was going to take a while.
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୨🐙୧ ‧ 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙉 𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝘼𝙔! ⋆ ˚。
🌺 𝙓𝙊𝙓𝙊,
XEA!
75 notes · View notes
cosmicflw3rr · 2 days
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can you write something where r comforts dom when he loses a big title match? 💘
did your best.
dominik mysterio x fem! reader
summary: after dominik loses the north american championship you’re there to help pick up the pieces.
A/N: thank you too @rheas-ripley and some others my request are stacked!! tysm🫶🫶 so I am trying to get to all of them! but I’m in Columbia rn w no service, I only get service at the air bnb, and I’m here for a week so yea! but I am trying!
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you were on the edge of your seat, watching dominik's title match. anxiously biting at your nails, your foot jittering up and down anxiously.
your gaze was locked on the monitor as dragon lee executed his finisher, you flinched at the hard impact. your hands instinctively moved to cover your mouth.
and as the ref began to count, time felt like it was dragging, each second stretched out. it was like it was all in slow motion.
1!
you were hoping for dom to escape the pim, understanding that holding the championship meant the world to him. that this was his chance to show he's not just some character they fans boo at.
he wanted to silence the everyone, to prove he's earned his spot, and to show just how far he's come since turning on his dad.
2!
you clasped both your hands in front of your lips. muttering a quick prayer under your breath, "come on, dom, kick out," urging him on silently.
3!
ding! ding! ding!
your jaw dropped, watching as dragon lee celebrated. rushing over to embrace dominik's dad, rey mysterio, who was seated at ringside.
you felt a bitter taste creeping up inside you.
your mind racing, you watched the crowd cheer for dragon lee. all praising him. the camera panned to dominik, rolling out disappointed but scowling at lee and the fans.
you stood backstage waiting for him in the gorilla. dominik pushed past the curtain moments later, looking exhausted. a few of the crew gave him words of encouragement, he acknowledged them before moving to you. he gave you a small kiss on the cheek
he wiped his face with a towel, breathing heavily. his body was drenched in sweat from the intense match.
when he saw you, his expression softened. but you could tell he was upset. "I'm gonna go shower." he muttered into your ear before giving you another quick kiss and walking away.
you knew that dominik was putting on a brave face, he wanted to show everyone that he wasn't going to let losing the championship affect him. but you could tell that he was frustrated and upset.
your eyes followed dominik as he went towards the showers, and you felt your heart break at just how upset he looked. he was putting on a brave face for everyone else.
even though dominik was young, he constantly strived to meet the expectations placed on him. the expectations that came with being a wwe legends son. he didn't want to look weak in front of everyone.
but at the end of the day when you’d both leave and go home, you knew the truth. you knew how much the loss affected him. how much it hurt to lose the championship that meant so much to him.
and you hated that he was acting like he wasn't affected by it. that he couldn't even let his feelings out to the one person he trusted the most.
you sighed running your hand through your hair frustrated.
——-
you were talking with roxanne when your phone buzzed in your pocket. you excused yourself as you checked it seeing a message from dom.
you checked your phone, seeing you had a text from dom. "I'm ready to go back to the hotel, I have your stuff just meet me in the parking lot when your done."
you sent him a quick text back, letting him know that you'd be there soon.
and finally, you told roxanne that you had to head out. she didn't ask too many questions, just giving you a quick smile before nodding.
you began the walk to the parking lot. you checked your phone again as you walked, seeing that dom had replied, letting you know he'd be waiting at his car.
once you reached the parking lot, you began looking for where you two had parked the car earlier. as soon as you spotted it, you began to walk towards it.
you quickly approached dom's car, seeing him leaning against it. his arms folded, and his gaze directed at the floor. he looked pretty exhausted, and you felt a small pang of empathy for him.
you couldn't help but frown as you got closer, wanting to help him feel better in any way you could.
"hey..." you said softly.
dom's head snapped up, turning to look at you. he was silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "hey.”
he tried to put on a smile, but it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was still upset. "you ready to go?"
"yea i am." you said, he opened the passenger door for you before passing over to the drivers side
as you settled yourself in the passenger seat, he quickly got in the driver's side and started the car. for a few moments, neither of you spoke. he was clearly lost in his own thoughts.
you were also quiet, just watching him driving. finally, you decided to break the silence. "are you okay”
"yeah, I'm fine.” he muttered, his voice coming out quiet and hoarse. he didn't seem convinced when he said it. he kept his eyes on the road, his gaze straight ahead.
there was a heavy silence in the car, as if all air had been sucked out of the car. you tried to think of something to say, to break the heavy tension. but your mind was completely blank.
dom was still staring straight ahead, not seeming to want to look at you at all. it was clear that he was trying to hold back his feelings.
he pulled up outside of the hotel, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt. he looked over at you, finally looking at you once again. his expression was still stoic, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.
he climbed out of the car, walking over to your side and opening the door for you.
you got out the car, waiting for him as he grabbed both of your bags out the trunk. you both went over to the hotel entrance, and he opened the door for you once more before following after.
once inside, the lobby was mostly empty besides a few hotel workers busy behind the front desk. however, you could faintly hear music and laughter coming from one of the rooms.
dom led you over to the elevator, pressing the button before leaning against the wall. he looked he looked exhausted, keeping silent.
he let out a long breath, his eyes still directed at the floor. he seemed like he was completely lost in his own thoughts and didn't want to speak about it.
as the elevator doors doors opened to reveal the hallway of your floor, you both made your way down to your room. he fished out his keycard from his wallet to unlock the door. you both walked in grabbing your bag he'd left by the door.
the room was quiet and clean, much like a hotel room should be. dom closed the door behind him, and you could hear the lock clicking loudly before the room fell silent once again.
dom sat down on the edge of the mattress, seemingly exhausted as he begun to take his shoes off.
you laid your suitcase on the bed, going to your knees to look for pijamas. you looked behind you seeing dom, your heart tightened as you stood up. you walked over to him sitting down next to him, you rested your head on his shoulder taking his hand in yours.
"babe talk to me."
he turned to look at you, his gaze still downcast. he gave you a small, tired smile, seeming almost relieved that you were there.
"i'm fine. everythings alright.” he muttered, giving your hand a quick squeeze.
you looked up at him, "but you're not fine."
he stayed silent, not moving an inch. he was clearly still trying to hide his feelings, putting on a brave face.
"i'm fine.” he repeated again, sounding slightly more convincing this time. the tension was palpable.
"dom please." you pleaded softly, you just wanted to be there for him. you just wanted him to let you be there for him.
you could see the strain of trying to stay strong slowly starting to crack. he let out a heavy sigh, his gaze going back to the floor. he stayed quiet for a moment, before finally speaking again.
"it just sucks-" he muttered, his voice coming out hoarse. not being the champion anymore seemed to be weighing on him.
"it feels like i've failed. I failed you; I failed the fans; I failed everybody." he muttered, a mixture of exhaustion and sadness in his voice.
"oh, baby, you didn't fail me; you did the best you could."
"and the best i could do wasn't enough." he replied, still keeping his gaze cast to the ground. he was clearly frustrated and upset, disappointed with himself.
his free hand moved restlessly, and you saw that he was tightly kneading the fabric of his pants.
you begin to trace patterns on his hand, looking down at your intertwined hand. "dom listen to me, you gave it everything. I'm proud of how hard you fought. this isn't the end. you'll get through this-we'll get through this. together."
he stayed silent for a moment, his gaze going up to meet yours. his expression softened, and you could tell he was trying his best to believe your words.
he swallowed, and his hands relaxed a little bit, though you still saw some tension there. "I don't know, y/n/n, I just- I just feel so defeated right now.”
your eyebrows furrowed, your heart hurt seeing him hurt. you gently turned his head so he'd look at you. "dom." you said softly, searching in his eyes, you wanted to say something instead you just wrapped your arms around his neck. pulling him into a hug.
he leaned into the hug, finally burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a heavy breath. he held on to you tightly.
he was lost in his own thoughts, the weight of having failed again weighing him down. it was clear that, although he was trying to stay strong and move on, he needed some comfort right now.
"I don't know any way to convince you that you deserve everything you've gotten and so much more." you mumbled into his shoulder, "dom you're gonna get so much more title opportunities, I just know you will."
he stayed silent for a moment, his head staying buried into your shoulder as he took in your words. he was still trying to process the loss, trying to convince himself he would have other chances.
finally, he spoke. “I'm just scared. that this is the start of the end, y'know?"
"this isn't." you reassured, "you’re so young, and your career is just starting. you have so much more to do."
he stayed silent again, but you could see him slowly believing what you were saying. he was still disappointed with having failed to keep the championship, but he was coming around to the thought that he would have more opportunities.
he looked up at you, and his expression softened a bit. "I appreciate you being here for me, amor..." he said quietly.
"you dont have to thank me, ill always be there for you."
he smiled softly, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I know you will... and I love you." he said quietly, his hand moving to hold yours.
“I love you too," you told him. his fingers laced with yours, his gaze now fully on you.
he smiled softly, and for the first time since his match, he looked genuinely happy. as if all the worries had momentarily washed away, and he was now in the present with you.
your eyes moved to the stray hair that had fallen on his forehead, you moved it away gently. “you ready for bed?” you asked your gaze going back onto his eyes.
he gave a small chuckle, and looked back at the bed. he nodded, seeming relieved that the mood had shifted. "yeah.” he said, letting go of your hand. “I'm beat."
you stood up tying your hair up. “same, but I’m gonna go shower first.”
he gave you a small wink, moving over to you, letting his hand trail down your side. he leaned down, whispering into your ear. “I know a way to save water.”
you rolled your eyes, “no dom.” you said playfully.
he chuckled, a slight grin spread across his face. "pleaseeeee?" he whined, making it sound like a child asking for candy. he tried to give you his best puppy dog face, his eyes looking at you hopefully, the two of you making eye contact.
after a moment you caved, “fine.” you said, “hurry up.” you laughed out running away from him into the bathroom.
he let out a small laugh at your reluctant agreement, chasing you into the bathroom.
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mystycalypso · 3 days
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Return to Ravenbrooks: Biography
Entry 2
Name: Nicholas Michael Roth
Date of Birth: 1997
Gender: M
Current Address: [REDACTED]
Height: 5'6 (5'3 when hunched)
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Brown
Key features: Freckles, Messy hair, 5 o'clock shadow, hunched posture, goggles
Role: Spy
Abilities: Lock picking, pickpocketing, sneaking, gadget inventing, climbing, crafting
Occupation: N/A
Status: Stunted
Biography:
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I couldn't find a reaction to the blue home that pulled into view in front of me. As far as I knew it wouldn't be our house for long.
It never was. It seemed like every summer we were packing up again. Another school year, another house, another happy realtor welcoming us to the town.
He looked back at me from the mirror, a smile on his face while we slid into the driveway. "Chin up Narf! Yknow with any luck-" I fought the urge to finish the sentence. It was the same every time. "This'll be it! No more boxes, no more moving trucks!"
I remember sitting on the curb, staring at everything and nothing. He sat next to me, pulling the brim of my cap down over my eyes. "You doing alright, Narf?" I was silent. He waited patiently for a minute, then let out a soft sigh. "I know it's hard moving so much." Most of his words are fuzzy now. But I can remember the warmth of his voice, the weight of the gift he put in my hand. It made a metal clunk. Like the box of drill bits he kept around. But it wasn't drill bits. It was something much better. More useful.
I'll forever be thankful for that gift. Those lockpicks have done me so much good over these years. Without them, I'd never have met Aaron, and I might not even be here today.
When that summer had come around again, it was a surprise to not see any packing. No for sale signs, nothing.
For a few months believed he'd been right. That I'd end up growing up in this house, just across the street from my best friend and his little sister. I thought we'd go on looking for supernatural mysteries in the town until we were too old to believe in them.
Why couldn't that have been the end of it?
Why did I have to wake up that night to my mother's bloodcurdling scream?
Why did I run downstairs?
Why did I have to see his body in such a state?
The windows were open, the curtains billowing wildly in the wind. Those birds were- everywhere. It felt like they were watching us. If I hadn't woken up, maybe they would've fed on my mother too, in her fainted state.
"Natural causes," they told us. Nothing they could do.
Mom tried to keep it together, to keep calm despite everything. But the house, it was too much. Just being in the same room brought her to hysterics. And I...I could barely understand it all back then.
Everyone in town knew what happened in our house. Despite everything they did to "fix it". The new bright orange coat of paint wouldn't be enough to sell it. At least- I thought so for so long. Heck, I didn't believe it when I saw the "sold" sticker. It was only when I saw them from the chimney of Mr. Peterson's house that I realized it had really happened. That something had really changed. I just didn't know how much.
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edgeofn1ght · 3 days
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all you conceal, let out: ch. 1
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After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?
i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)
alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead
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Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him – 
“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto. 
Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson. 
If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.
But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.
As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.
‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone. 
Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky. 
So where the hell was here? 
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Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life. 
He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole. 
He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?
Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway. 
As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam. 
Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either. 
"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt. 
He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night. 
But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew. 
A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer.  “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try. 
Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.
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Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then – 
Nothing more.
For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.
Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula. 
When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head.  But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.
Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan. 
Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again. 
So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved. 
Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that. 
And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize. 
He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him.  Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped. 
"Ah, you're awake."
Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly. 
“Take it easy!” The voice warned. 
He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive . 
He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose. 
He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.
He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest. 
"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.  
Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side. 
"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there. 
Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"
Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."
"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"
Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down. 
Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"
"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."
This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan. 
Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.
Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up. 
"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"
"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so. 
Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back. 
"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.  
“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled. 
“You won’t though.”
Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither. 
Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed. 
“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.
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Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan. 
But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.  
In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer. 
Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket. 
“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen. 
This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow. 
Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved. 
The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber. 
Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again. 
He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden. 
Just like in his dream.
His heart rate picked up again. 
Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream? 
Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream. 
He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile. 
“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face. 
“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it. 
They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.
Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”
As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”
“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look. 
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Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.
But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?
He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction. 
Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."
"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth. 
Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?" 
“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”
Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?” 
"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."
Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"
Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.
"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.
Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said. 
He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.” 
"Anakin," Ben repeated softly. 
He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him. 
After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."
Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”  
Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"
"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.
Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why. 
"And what of the war?" 
"What war?"
“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"
Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.” 
Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."
Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing. 
He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong. 
Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."
Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"
"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen. 
He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow. 
If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.
Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.
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split-spectrum · 2 days
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Concessions
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Chapter 3
Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader
Tags: SMUT (MDNI), oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial, dubcon, noncon, Obi Wan gets chained to the wall and edged within an inch of his life
Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.
☆☆☆
You should end this. 
For the sake of your friendship. For the promise you'd made to help him finish the Nikkama. For your own sanity. You should really end the call. But it seems too cruel, now, after what you've done. 
When you'd sent the pictures, the most you'd expected out of him had been irritation. Your goal had been to disrupt his thoughts; possibly to ruin his day with distraction, the way he'd ruined yours. Revenge may not be the Jedi way, but sometimes with Obi Wan it's so difficult not to give in to the urge to tease; to toy with him. Now, the only question left is how far you're willing to go to atone.
The right thing to do would be to shut off your commlink. To look into his glassy eyes, ignore his indecent, combative gaze, and click that impossibly merciful button. But no matter how long your finger rests at it, you can't bring yourself to press down. 
Obi Wan hasn't said another word. He's hardly moved. But what little patience may have remained in his expression when he'd answered is now gone. The deep blue of his irises is hidden within the gradient of the hologram, but the black of his stretched pupils is easy to pick up when he widens his eyes accusingly. As if to say, "Well?"
He's waiting, against his will, to be put out of his misery. Cut him loose; end the call, or...
"Give me a moment."
You shut off your commlink before he can respond, then dress yourself, tying your robes with clumsy, hurried fingers, and slip quietly out into the hallway.
Trying to remain true to your promise of only a moment while keeping your footsteps soft enough not to wake any of the other Jedi in their quarters, you reach Obi Wan's door, rapping twice before he opens it. You find him in a state of half-undress, trousers fastened at his waist, but mid-section still bare. He's pulled his arms through his light undershirt, still working on wrapping it around his torso and tucking it as he steps back from the door to let you in. 
"You're dressed," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady as you walk forward, closing the distance between you. "I said I would only be a moment."
He finishes tucking his shirt, the open neckline still giving ample view of the soft curls that are begging you to run your hands over his chest. "Yes, but a moment for what, you didn't quite say."
You look down his body, backing him toward the corner of a wooden dresser near the doorway. You line your hips up with his, watching as he mirrors you, either consciously or subconsciously. "You're awfully clever, Obi Wan. Let's not pretend it wasn't obvious."
His bright pink lips hang slightly open when he stares down at your hands, traveling upward. The blush begins to creep into his face. "I... couldn't possibly be so presumptuous."
Your hands find his stomach, your noses now inches apart, and the soft smirk on your face evaporates when you draw your gaze back up to his. Using your thumb to peel open his shirt, you loosen it from his waistband and slide your other hand across the warmth of his skin, feeling him shudder at the contact. 
Your lips naturally gravitate towards his, when suddenly a thought stops you painfully short: This isn't a passion-soaked tryst between two lovers. This isn't the closing of a romance that's long been harbored beneath the working partnership of two friends. This is you, helping him find relief, and nothing more. 
You drag your eyes away from his mouth, down to his neck, and the urge gushes to taste the skin there, too. Instead, you pull back while turning your hand down into his waistband. His eyes, which had been fixed on your face, roll to the ceiling. 
"You shouldn't-" He shifts, rubbing up against the dresser. "This is hardly-" he tries, not finishing either thought. 
One of his hands comes up to the small of your back, touching you with a respectful lack of weight or pressure, somewhere between holding you closer and warning you off. When you slither your palm between his legs and stroke it over the hot, dribbling length of him, though, he changes his grip. He grabs your waist and squeezes, looking down between your bodies, watching you touch him. 
You hadn't realized until now just how much you'd wanted his hands on you. Feeling him grip you hard, pulling you closer as his hips start to shallowly draw up with each pull of your hand - you're starting to ache. Bending the fingers of your other hand around the fabric, you start to pull down his trousers. 
His hand flies to your wrist, and you freeze. His eyes are closed, his breaths shallow. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. 
"No," he pants. "No, we- we can't."
He opens his eyes and you nearly pull away before you catch the way he's looking at you. It's clear he's being serious. But there's also... something else. A certain kind of frustration; almost desperation. 
You flatten your hand, grazing it over him, watching his eyes go foggy and his brows knead tight. He doesn't let go of your wrist, but he doesn't pull away. 
Suddenly, it all makes sense - why he chose you to help him in this; to be his witness. 
He trusts you. And more importantly, he knows you. He knows that when he needs it, you'll find a way to bend the rules, while allowing him to keep his lofty ideals intact. Because you've done it in the past, time and time again.
Though he'd never admit it, your willingness to compromise has often been an asset to him. You could skirt the rules, blurring the edges of the safe, moral choices, while he got to feign uninvolvement. Whether intentional or not, he'd chosen you because some part of him knew this.
And lucky for him, you know a path you can take, just as you always do. 
"Obi Wan, let me ask you something," you say, enjoying the unsteady breath he takes when you slide your thumb slowly up and down his shaft. "Do you trust me?"
You graze his head, then slip your hand away, and he drops your wrist, immediately gripping the edge of the dresser behind him. He gathers himself, and eventually, he nods. "Yes. Of course."
You straighten up, fixing his clothing back in place. "I hope you're not about to change your mind. Because I have an idea."
--
A few minutes later, after you've convinced him into one of the small cargo ships the jedi temple keeps on hand for communal use, Obi Wan is no further enlightened on the details, and he's starting to lose patience. 
"And why can you not just tell me the location?"
You force an easy smile, though your stomach is buzzing with anticipation. You need him to have faith that you know what you're doing. And you do. You convince yourself that you do. "I already gave you the coordinates."
You'd sent them directly from your commlink to the navicomputer, yet Obi Wan had insisted on flying manually. He glances down at the screen in front of him, with glowing numbers and no map. "Yes, somewhere in the Federal District. Very helpful. Is there a reason you haven't chosen to be more specific?"
With a smirk, you answer, "As I said before, you're clever enough to know the answer to that."
He glances out the window, clearly suppressing a scowl, then brings his attention back to the lane in front of him, shifting a hand to adjust his speed. "In other words, I won't like it."
You press your lips together, watching the shadows roll over him as you speed through the flashing lights of Coruscant nightlife.
"I never said that." You pause. "But you certainly wouldn't approve of it."
He shoots you another look, then brings his gaze forward again as you reach your destination. He can't take his eyes away from the monitor since he's in the middle of landing, but his scowl grows more pronounced. The Center for Republic Military Operations looms in front of you. 
"What in blazes are we doing here?"
"I thought you were trusting me."
He follows you down the ramp, keeping his voice low. "Yes, but the extent of my trust is rather proportional to the circumstance." He nods at a passing Coruscant Guard solider, then catches up to you. "And at the moment, they're about even."
You just smile. "Good. I can work with that."
You turn to enter the main building, Obi Wan trailing close behind. More soliders pass you on either side of the hallway as you make your way to security check-in. You walk past the manned stations and head straight to the automated keycard wall. You find the number you're looking for and enter your security code.
"You've dragged me here to work an extra shift in the detention cells?"
At that, you can't help but smile wider. You pick up the key card when it appears in the slot, then brush past him to head down the hallway. "In a manner of speaking."
You get the attention of one of the guardsmen as you near the end of the cell block. "Officer, we're conducting an investigation and we need to inspect cell 98. Please tell the other guards we are not to be disturbed."
The guard accepts your orders, assuring you they'll be passed along, and continues on his way. You swipe the keycard and, hesitatingly, Obi Wan follows you inside. You look both ways down the hall before closing the door, double-checking the lock. 
"Well, if you were looking for privacy, you've certainly found it, but that wasn't-"
"I wasn't looking for privacy," you interrupt, stepping toward him and reaching out. He looks around warily, but allows you closer. You take his wrists in your hands, walking him back. "I thought about what you said."
He raises his brows, saying nothing as you clasp around him gently at first, then start to firm your grip. "I do want to help you through this." 
His eyes widen and he glances behind you to the empty walls of the cell. "You don't need to-"
"Oh, I know that," you tell him sweetly, then press his arms upward. 
He pushes back, shaking his head as his back hits the wall. He hisses your name in admonishment. "The cams."
"Are broken," you assure him, lifting his arms above his head as his resistance lessens. "And the cells are soundproof, as you know."
"How do you-"
You activate the switch on the wall beside his hands. "I was down here last week with Master Sinube. We had to move some prisoners and we couldn't use this cell for that reason." The binders glow softly above Obi Wan's head. "Cams won't be fixed until next week."
He follows your gaze upward and a beat of silence passes. You wait for him to protest. You wait for him to rip his arms down and push you off. But all he does is drop his gaze and let out a low breath of air. The sound he makes, sighing softly through his nose, is disapproving, but the intensity of his stare betrays what he really wants. 
You press the button, locking the binders around his wrists, then stare back at him, watching the emotions swirl in his eyes. It's like you can see him traveling through all the same thoughts you'd had when this idea had come to you back in his quarters.
In any other scenario he would be giving in. He'd be at fault for not stopping you. But now... You've taken away his choice. You've lifted that burden from his shoulders. All he can do is protest. And you're ready to see if he's willing to do so, or pretend innocence as he's done so many times before.
You sink to your knees in front of him, sliding your palms down to his thighs, then running your hands up beneath his tunic. Your fingers curl at his waist, slowly dragging his clothes down, and you feel his cock twitch when you graze your thumb over the bunched fabric. You snap your eyes up, waiting from him to say the word. 
His chest is rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. His eyes are piercing you with an aching, tight-jawed, guilty look. But he's silent.
Overwhelmingly, obliteratingly silent. 
You finally free him, staring with an obscene lack of restraint at the glossy river of precum soaking down the side of his dick. 
"Oh," you murmur softly. "Obi Wan..."
At the edge of your view, you see his eyes flutter heavily when you say his name. You gently settle your fingers around him, enjoying his soft breath of relief. Sliding your thumb up along his shaft, you spread out the slick, coating more of his skin. 
This should be a utilitarian exercise in urgency. You should be using your hand to get him off, hard and fast. But you left 'should' behind a long time ago. So you slowly turn your wrist, pumping your hand a few times, not with any real pressure, just for the pleasure of running up and down the full length of him. Then you lick your palm and do it again, listening to him suck air above you. 
You swallow, caught gazing up at him, and have to urge yourself to keep going. You want to go slow; wring out of him every carnal desire he's pent up for the last several months. But you're already pushing it by drawing it out this long, and part of you is still afraid he'll ask you to stop. 
When you finally lower your mouth to his pulsing, straining cockhead, you suck at the tip, flicking your eyes up to look at him again. His hairline is dark with sweat and he's panting like he's losing an agonizing battle. You lock onto his gaze and flatten your tongue to lap slowly at the slit of his cock, watching his eyes widen as your mouth drops open to swirl lazy circles. 
"You taste so good," you drawl before slipping your lips around him, suckling softly. 
"Ah- hmm..." That earns you a sound something like a sudden, abrupt hum. Like he's trying to get ahold of himself before words begin to fall out. 
You drag your lips back up to the tip, then spread them wide and push his head inside the wet heat of your mouth. He goes rigid. Closing your eyes, you focus on giving him all the warm, soft pressure he needs. You engulf his thick head like he's going to pull away at any moment, hollowing your cheeks to suck him sweetly, realizing to your dismay that you could do this for hours.
When you open your throat and take him deeper at last, he rewards you with a loud, plaintive groan. He hits the back of your throat, making you gag for a moment, tears springing to your eyes. You squeeze your legs together, soaking between them, and swallow his twitching cock. You make a small sound in the back of your throat as you wrap your hand around him and start to bob your head, one hand pushing into the back of his leg to bring him closer and the other hand drowning in your own spit, pressed tight below your mouth and running over the length of him as you find your rhythm. 
"Stars-" he grinds out. You open your throat and take him even deeper, watching his mouth fall open at first, and then watching him snap it shut to look down at you, face screwed up in a pained expression. His eyes crinkle hard at the edges and his brows pin together, a deep line creasing his face between them. 
"This feel good?" you pop your mouth off for a moment to ask him. "You can tell me."
You slide him back in, falling right back into your rhythm, waiting for an answer. But he says nothing. You want to be generous. You want to keep going. In fact, nothing could possibly make you want to stop. But you need to hear him say it just once. You won't be doing this again, and you can't pass up your one chance to hear him say that he liked it. That he wanted it. 
You feel his cock throb beneath your tongue, but he doesn't answer. You pull away again, pumping him with your hand. 
"Come on." You lower your voice. "You can say it."
His teeth are just visible when he opens his mouth, almost baring them at you. His gaze is somewhere between warning and pleading. 
"Tell me it feels good, Obi Wan." You're practically suffocating him with your mouth between interrogations, now. You squeeze him with your slippery hand, lips gliding over him in punishing, repetitive strokes. 
You gasp off, panting, "Does it feel good?"
"Yes," he moans. 
You're practically dripping, pulsing between your legs at the hoarse groan he lets out. You can't help it. You want to hear more. You pull off again. 
"Would you like me to keep going?"
His head lolls to the side and a harsh sigh escapes from deep in his chest, as if to say you know the answer. As if he's scolding you for asking it, and desperate not to reply. 
So you relent, and you give him back the slick, perfect heat of your mouth until he's bucking his hips softly with each dip of your head to meet you, and you look up again to see the wrecked look on his face. His cock is pulsing, his breath wild and ragged. It's like he's ready to come, but for some reason, he's holding back. 
Then you realize it. You haven't told him, and he can't ask.
"Mmf," you mumble, pulling his cock free of your mouth one last time to tell him, "You can come in my mouth, just like this. Please. Come down my throat."
"Oh, fucking-" he spits out, then seems to melt into your grip, hips falling out of rhythm as his head tilts up-
...only to snap it back down, his body curling in and shuddering violently to a stop when the door lock clicks open. 
His cock pops free of your mouth, bouncing when he jerks away, and you're already standing up and scrambling to put his clothes in place before your mind can fully register what's going on. 
The door swings open just as you desperately slap the button to free Obi Wan's hands and straighten your own clothes. A pair of soldiers look extremely surprised to see you. 
"Master Jedi," one of them says, trading his looks between you and Obi Wan, clearly not sure whom to address first. "I... I didn't know this cell was, um, occupied."
You take a step to the side, trying to block anything unprofessional in Obi Wan's appearance. "Yes, I checked in and gave orders not to disturb us. We are... investigating the... presence of the criminal who occupied this cell last week."
"I see," the guard answers. He doesn't seem suspicious to find you here. They both just seem put-off by your jumpy demeanor. 
"Yes, so if you would be so kind as to-"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, no one told us the orders. I've escorted the security technician down here to work on fixing the cams. I'm afraid you'll need to come back later."
"Oh, I..." you trail off.
"That's quite alright, gentlemen," Obi Wan finishes for you. "We can report our findings thus far. Have a nice evening."
He gestures calmly toward the door and you obediently join him in leaving, grateful for the end of the conversation. 
It's a long, stiff, quiet walk down the hallway. Thankfully, you don't cross paths with anyone else on the way out. You're nearly at the other end of the hall before you dare to lean in and whisper, "We can, um... We still have the ship."
He gives you a quick head shake in response, and you can feel the frustration in it. "For thirty more minutes before Master Fisto will be looking for it. We need to have it back at the dock before the next shift."
You take a breath, realizing that wasn't a 'no'. 
"Well," you say slowly; carefully. "We still have your quarters."
Back at his quarters, he can't pretend innocence anymore, but perhaps you've pushed him past that.
You wait. And wait. And he doesn't answer. 
And you board the ship. And he doesn't answer. 
And when you land back at the dock a few minutes later, you realize: He's given you his answer. 
--
A/N: The next chapter might be the last; possibly two more, depending on how long it ends up. Please feel free to comment or message me to be added to the tag list. :)
Taglist: @slinkygail @wheres-mylove @millercontracting @cacti5539 @b0xerdancer-writes
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android!Robin has several technical problems, the most important ones having to do with her memory card, battery and motor skills.
Androids are supposed to have perfect photographic memory, but Robin's memory is poor even by human standards. She tends to forget where she left her keys, what she was going to do when walking into a room, etc. She forgets her schedule all the time, as well as Nancy's, and can't remember a recipe to save her life. Dustin and Suzie say it's a problem with the connections needed to access her memory card, rather than with the memory card itself. It's fixeable, but extremely difficult and expensive. Robin wants to get this fixed and she's working hard to pay for it - she doesn't want to be an inconvenience. Nancy will support her decision, but she really isn't bothered by Robin's poor memory. She just hopes she's doing it for herself and not to make herself "easier to handle" for other people (she's been told that's what her worth was based on her entire life).
She's only had one memory card her entire life (as far as she knows). Nancy's greatest fear is Robin hitting her head and it breaking. One could potentially take out the memory card and delete it or install a new one - that is Robin's greatest fear.
At one point, her connections get so bad there will be days in which she can't remember Nancy at all, or what her own name is. She'll act almost like a normal android those days - following orders, not speaking unless necessary, not expressing emotion unless instructed to, etc, though her poor motor skills, battery problems and bad memory will make it difficult. It freaks Nancy out every time, and she always tries to get her to snap out of it as if she were human, before accepting that love can't solve this problem, and calling Dustin and Suzie to fix it. She'll pay any price if it means having her Robin back.
Robin lets herself be turned off without complaint, without even the terrified shudder Nancy used to feel when she forcibly did it during their first weeks together. Robin's docile obedience as she let Nancy do this to her, and the way her body went limp in Nancy's arms, never failed to bring Nancy to tears.
It would take days for Dustin and Suzie to fix some of Robin's problems. This one took between one and two weeks. Longest it ever got was 16 days. During that time, Robin would lay lifeless on their workshop's table, her battery sitting somewhere else to prevent her from turning on automatically. Dustin insisted that he and his lady (as he called Suzie) worked best when their kingdom (their workshop) was untouched by foreign hands, so Nancy wasn't always welcome to visit Robin in that state. Nancy was relentless, though, and she usually managed to convince him to let her in for a few minutes. He thinks it's pointless - it's not like Robin can feel her there. She can't even dream. It doesn't change anything. In fact, he worries Nancy will be more disturbed than comforted, because Robin's entire skull, neck and spine will be exposed - only it's not bones and flesh inside, but metal and plastic circuits, plates, chips, wires and pistons. He's careful to at least put her face back in place when Nancy visits. He expects her to be taken aback by the sight, but instead, Nancy's eyes are full of so much worry and care and adoration as she observes Robin's lifeless body. She doesn't dare touch her - she doesn't want to hurt her. But she misses her so deeply.
When it's all finished, Nancy takes her back home with the utmost care and tucks her into bed. She waits by her side until she turns back on, and softly talks to her, asks her how she's feeling, brings her some water and asks her questions, to see if she's back to normal. Because it's all recorded in her memory card, Robin can remember everything - can remember the time she spent not knowing who she is, thought she can't remember if she was self-aware during those episodes. Whenever she wakes up, she's just happy to see Nancy, and wants hugs and cuddles from her, but she begins to cry out of fear as she tries to remember the details of not being. Nancy holds her every time, asks her if she wants to watch cartoons or if she wants her to read a book for her, to keep her from spiraling. She hates seeing Robin look so small and scared, but she also knows she's not scared of anything Nancy can protect her from. The horrors haunting her come from her own mind and her own nature.
(Dustin and Suzie make a copy of Robin's memory card and give it to her, just in case).
Dustin and Suzie take care of any fixes Robin needs. They're much nicer than any other technician at the previous repair shops she's been to. The most usual fixes have to do with weakness and stiffness in her knees and hips, especially on her right leg (it got broken pretty badly during a beating by her last owner - Billy Hargrove. He wanted to make her unable to walk. The person his father sold her to next did a poor job fixing her). These fixes are usually quite simple and take very little time. She will refuse to see them, though, until she reaches her breaking point when she struggles to stand up, or when she suddenly falls to the ground. It always worries Nancy to death - she's terrified of Robin hitting herself and suffering even more damage. It always takes some convincing for Nancy to get her in her car and on their way to Dustin's workshop. Sometimes, the fix will be so simple they don't even need to turn her off. Nancy holds her hand during these.
The third big problem is her battery. Thankfully, her battery is detachable and easily replaceable. They only had a mayor issue with it once, and they had to order a new one. Robin's model is rare enough that it took over a week to get there. During that time, they installed solar pannels in the balcony and Robin had to be connected to them with long, thick cables that stretched all around the apartment. It was more amusing than anything else, having to step around the cables and make sure none of them got accidentally disconnected. Cloudy days made her pretty much useless and had her lying in bed watching cartoons all day. She was completely turned off after sunset and she was up by sunrise. Needless to say, she couldn't leave the apartment for the week and had to call in sick to work.
Good thing was, though, that the new battery worked much better than the previous one. It lasted much longer. Nancy had only seen her this excited a few other times. The way she kicked her bedroom door down with a wide smile on her face as she yelled at her to come to the kitchen just made Nancy smile with adoration. Robin showed her the box in her hands - she was shaking with excitement - and asked Nancy to help her install it. She turned herself off and Nancy did the rest - disconnected cables, take out old battery, install new one. When she turned Robin back on, she was more full of life and energy than she'd ever seen her be. Free from her cables, she immediately grabbed Nancy's hands and dragged her outside - the sun was shining and she wanted to run around in the park, to roll on the grass and count the cloud and photosynthesize with a good book in her hand. To Nancy, she looked like a puppy, or a happy little bird just released from its cage. She could never say no to her, they would spend the entire day outside if Robin wanted to.
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alitherandom · 13 hours
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Bad Batch is almost over so I'm going to ramble. If anyone can relate, please reply or reblog. Share what this show has meant to you, share your thoughts, share theories, tag people. Let's give it a send off.
Star Wars has been a massive part of my life for years.
I loved everything about the Clone Wars, the world building, the character development for the jedi, but most of all the clones. As someone who finds it hard to read faces, it was fun getting to know each of the clones as individuals with their own personalities and I actually never had any issues telling them apart. It hits hard, I think that's what makes their stories even more tragic.
Echo and Fives are my favourite Star Wars characters so I was really happy when Echo came back in Clone Wars season 7. That was why I decided to watch the Bad Batch- it then became my favourite series.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do when this show ends. I think the hardest part is not knowing what the galaxy has in store for the batch and where it could go from here. Whatever happens I’ll always be grateful for the experiences I've had as part of this community over the last few years.
I think that's what's great about being part of a fandom. Seeing all the different ideas and projects that get put out there every day as well as knowing everyone else is in just as much suspense as I am. I haven't interacted on here that much until the last few months, but I check the tags a lot and all the fanart has been immaculate. The writers and artists are crazy talented and work so hard, I admire the level of dedication and aspire to be like that. 😂
I'm also really grateful for the three seasons we got with Clone Force 99.
Seeing Echo go from a shiny in the Clone Wars to becoming who he is now. (I could talk about that for ages, but I'll save that for another post.)
Seeing Crosshair regain his trust in the batch and get to change.
Seeing Hunter step up for his brothers and Omega.
Seeing more sides to Wrecker's strength.
Seeing Omega go from that kid who'd never seen dirt before to learning from her brothers and proving how brave she is.
And lastly, seeing Tech make the choice he did back in season 2. It wasn't easy to watch, because he deserved more time and there was definitely a massive hole in season 3 without him.
I'm not ready to say goodbye to any of them.
My favourite episodes in season 1 were the last few, when Kamino fell. It was the end of an era as well as a new beginning.
My favourite episode in season 2 was episode 8. I was really proud of Echo, plus he got a hug from Omega which I have admittedly rewatched far too many times.
My favourite episodes in season 3 were episodes 13 and 14. The stakes have been so high and it's been great seeing Echo's ARC skills in action again. (Plus the dialogue with Rampart was top tier. Hate that guy, but it was hilarious.)
I'm well aware of all the theories for the finale. I'm choosing to ignore most of them, but I’d like to present my own.
I hope Echo gets to finish what Fives started and the clones can finally be free, including Tech if he's CX2. I hope the batch gets to burn Tantiss to the ground and fly off into the sunset with Omega and the kids from the vault, and then I hope they continue a lifetime of bullying Rampart. I also hope Emerie gets to whack Hemlock with a steel chair, and then the Zillo beast can eat him.
…After all, Star Wars is based on hope, right?
If anyone actually ended up reading this to the end you're a real one- have a great final Bad Batch eve, and may the force be with you.
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── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗹
paring: amy march x fem!reader
tag(s): fluff, cute, kinda spicy towards the end but it mostly fluff and cuteness and amy kinda worshiping r, period piece, wlw established relationship
warning(s): hint of smut/spicy, grammatical errors, unedited
word count: 1.1k
note: A little Amy March appreciation post. I just... I guess the Bridgerton hype is getting to me and with that comes the Amy hype back again. Hope you all enjoy this one, it's kinda based off of titanic (if you couldn't tell). I love you, M <3
requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3
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“What are you doing?” you whispered right into her ear, causing Amy to jump on the spot a little. 
“Do not do that, Y/n,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I apologise,” you said, chuckling as you kissed her temple. “What are you up to?”
“I’m just trying to find something to paint.”
“What are your options so far?”
“Well, this bowl of fruits,” she pointed to her left. “Or that one,” she pointed to her right.
“Again?” you asked, scoffing and raising your brow at her. 
“I guess I could paint that vessel with the yellow flowers, they are nice, aren’t they?” she said, lost in her thoughts.
“You know, the other day, Aunt March showed me some French painting…”
“Did she now?” she said, gathering her things to paint the flowers, only half listening to your words.
“Yes, they were quite… interesting,” you said, mischief filing your voice.
“How so?”
“Well… they were lovely women, beautiful really…”
“Yes?” Amy was paying attention to you, she was trying at least, but her brain chose to focus more on the flowers in front of her. 
“And they were… um… naked.”
Amy stood still for a second at your words, but then continued on as if it was nothing. Because in reality it wasn’t, the French had a thing for the human body, so what? It annoyed her, just a little, that you saw other women naked. But as long as her body was the only one you would touch, then she could do peace with it.
“They were fascinating, breathtaking even. Imagine being immortalised that beautifully.”
“Mmmh,” Amy agreed. 
“I would love for someone to do that for me…” you said, enough with the playing around and getting to the point.
And then you had Amy’s whole attention. “Are you saying that you would stand, naked, in front of a man, just so he could paint you? That you would gladly expose your body?” she said sternly.
“No! God, no,” you scoffed. “You would paint me.”
You smile as you watch her cheeks turning red. It was no surprise really, you had lost count of all the times you and Amy had seen the other naked, did things while at it. But despite Amy’s strong personality, deep down she was as shy as a baby deer.
She cleared her throat. “I think I have heard wrong, it was as if you wanted me to paint you—.”
“Like a French model,” you finished for her. “Yes, you heard correctly.”
“Naked?”
“Yes, that was the whole point of this conversation,” you chuckled, as you stepped closer to her and took away the paint brushes from her hands to warm them with your own. “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Ames,” you peck the back of her hands. “I just thought… I was not really thinking, actually. You said you were looking for something to paint, and the pictures Aunt March showed me just came to my mind. But if you do not wish to—.”
“It would be my absolute pleasure,” she interumped you. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am,” you couldn’t hold back the smile forming on your lips.
“How do you want me then?”
“You remember the pictures, right? Just do as you please, but… um… naked,” she winked at you, turning around to find her paintings, a new canvas and her favourite paint brushes. 
You took the opportunity, as she wasn't looking, to undress yourself. As you peeled off piece by piece off your body, you felt the temperature in the room shift and realised it was a bit cold. But as you settled in your position and Amy finally looked at you, you felt your whole body burning with fire. 
“Is this okay?” you shyly asked. 
Her eyes trailed down your body, taking in every curve, your soft skin, your chest. She could even tell how hard and heavy your breathing had gotten, which caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was silly, really. She would wake up to your naked body as many mornings as she could, but seeing you in that perfect golden light, exposed for her eyes only, took her breath away.
“Perfect,” she managed to word out somehow. 
She took a deep breath, and let her mind thrift away, only one thought remained in her mind and that was you. She allowed herself to be taken away by her light brush strokes, she let herself capture the intensity in your eyes, the softness of your body, the sun kissing your skin. 
She was extremely immersed in the painting, that she felt as if it wasn't you who she was painting anymore. Sure, you were naked, the piece would tend to have some sexual appeal, but Amy felt as if she was painting something —someone— too pure to ever be turned into just a mere object of lust. She was sure she was painting the vivid image of an angel, and she couldn't believe that she had gotten so lucky to love and be loved by this angel.
“Almost done,” she muttered after what felt like ages, but really it was the fastest she had ever worked on a piece. There were still some more details to add, some lighting to be fixed, some shadows that looked odd. But she didn’t need you to keep on posing, to keep on being naked in the cold room. 
“Is it finished?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Not yet,” she chuckled. “I’ll keep on working on it later, I don’t need you to stand still.”
“I like being still if I have your eyes on me,” you grinned at her.
“I like it as well, but I can’t have you catching a cold,” she said, as she wrapped you around some warm coat she had lying around for the cold days.
“Thank you, for doing this,” you said, pecking her lips. 
“I have you to thank, my muse.”
“Oh, so now I am your muse,” you playfully scoffed, your arms snaking around her shoulder while hers found your waist.
“You always have been,” she muttered as she left a kiss in the corner of your jaw. “I just guess it’s now official,” she chuckled, her uneven breath sending chills up your spine.
“Is that so?” you giggled. “Then, please do tell me more about it,” you said, throwing your head back giving her access to the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“I don’t feel like talking right now,” she bit your skin. 
“What do you feel like doing?” you were already breathless.
“Well…” she said as her hands drifted away to the belt securing your coat.
“Oh, I see,” you laugh, bringing her lips to yours. 
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Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3
-M
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