#I do that too but then again I'm rotating him in my head at least fifteen times a day so I kind of have to

[canisalbus]

I had a scrap piece of paper and drew the little freakish dog 👍 I have been silently enjoying your art for like a couple months now? I found it randomly on uploaded Pinterest and was like “oh huh that’s rad” and yeah he’s such a lovely sad little beast

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[lazyjellyfish300]

With New Eyes Every Time 🌊🪸🐚👁️

Miguel O'Hara x Reader S/O

Synopsis: Aquarium date with Miguel! 😄💕 Not much else to say. Word count 2.6k

A/N: inspired by my amazing moot @huniedeux ! Thank you for making a post about wanting to go to the aquarium and inspiring me in the process! 🥰 All thanks to you! 🫶🏽 Also really need to thank @hikaru-sama for being so patient and amazing at helping me with Spanish translations! 🖤🫶🏽 I owe you my life lol 😫

Crocodile facts I used came from: Royal Society Publishing and Wildlife Sydney AU (I kept getting confused on the crocodile embryo fact and the Royal Society Publishing ended up being the correct one in regards to that fact)

CW: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, A SMIDGE SUGGESTIVE SO MINORS DNI, BRIEF MOMENT OF GRIEF, OTHER THAN THAT JUST FLUFFY FLUFF. No mention of reader's gender.

"Well, actually, it's your turn to pick the date spot this time." Miguel hums as he gently blows on his oatmeal before taking a spoonful.

"Goddamn it...I'm so bad at choosing." You drum your nails against your coffee mug, the motion generating small tinkles of sound against the white porcelain.

 

Miguel smirks, "Thought since I'm a Libra, I'm the one who's supposed to be indecisive?" 

"Doth mine ears decieve me?!" You clasp your hand to your chest, making a gasp of over exaggerated astonishment. "Astrology's #1 hater is reciting accurate lore of his own sign back to me?!" 

Miguel shakes his head, blowing air out of his nose in amusement. "Nah, I'm still the number one hater." He winks. "Just proving to you that when you talk, I do listen. Even if I'm bad at responding." 

"Bah." You wave your hand at him and sip your coffee, shifting your thoughts to where you'd like to go on your date with him this time. Truth is, Nueva York was huge. You hadn't been to all the restaurants and bars and every single spot just yet. You just had a few favorites that you kept on rotation. 

Miguel, a man of routine and structure, didn't mind that one bit. Actually, there was a place you did really want to go to, you just hope he'll be okay with it since you were just there together for Valentine's. 

"Perhaps..."

"Mhmm?" Miguel turns the page of his newspaper, doing his best to be responsive to you while getting caught up on yesterday's news. 

"Don't be mad at me..." 

"Mad at you?" Miguel's eyes flicker from the newsprint to yours. Scarlet spotlights on you. 

"The aquarium." You say finally, your lips pull into a cheeky smile to indicate that you're well aware of your redundant choice but you don't care because you're dying to go anyway. 

The corner of Miguel's mouth tugs a little into a half smile. "That's the spot, huh? You think I was going to be mad at you for choosing the aquarium again?" 

You shrug. "Well, I do drag us there a lot. But it's so fun! I love seeing the fish and everything. You know me. I can't get enough of that stuff." 

Miguel gives you a warm smile. "Well, the aquarium it is then. And believe me, that's farrr from one of my least favorite places we go. It's actually one of my favorites, too." 

You echo his warmth, mixing it with some playfulness in your tone, "Oh yeah, I should've known, you love that under the sea, nerdy stuff too, huh?" 

Miguel chuckles. "Guilty." He stands up, picking up his empty bowl. "Vamos, los peces esperan." (Let's go, the fish are waiting) 

----

You can't help but smile giddily as you walk around the vast aquarium. It's dimly lit, and not very busy at this time, to both yours and Miguel's relief. The fact it was a Wednesday likely helped, since the rare occasion when Miguel's days off coincided with yours were quite sporadic and random. 

First, you started with the reptiles. As you walked in the more brightly lit section, you peeled off your hoodie and tied it around your waist as the humidity of the exhibit started to get to you. Moisture hung in the air and the spattering sounds of water hitting rocks from the waterfall that stood tall in the middle of the exhibit created the illusion you were somewhere tropical, a welcome respite away from the March wind chill of Nueva York. 

Frog croaks, monkey shrieks, and clicking and chattering of birds rustle in the exhibit, creating the ambiance of a rainforest. You look up at the large bird habitat in front of you, shielded by thin netting, groups of colorful birds hanging out in small clusters, rotating between perching and flying from one resting spot to another. A large smile breaks out on your face when your eyes land on a toucan perched on a twig garland hanging from the ceiling, busy cleaning his feathers. 

"Babe look..." You say in a hushed voice. Miguel follows your gaze and his face breaks out into a smile as well, admiring the cute little bird as he ruffled and stroked his black feathers and puffed up his white bosom with pride. 

Miguel nudges your side playfully with his hip. "He takes a long time to get ready, kind of like someone I know..." 

You try to nudge him pitifully back in response, but Miguel stays anchored in place with a chuckle. 

You move on to look at the geckos, lizards, snakes, and caimans as well. A baby crocodile sits with his belly dipped in a shallow pool of water, legs splayed out and mouth wide open, basking in the warmth emitted from the heat lamp at the top of his tank. 

"He's SOOOO cute!" You gush, leaning your head just a little closer to the glass. Miguel looks away from the yellow poison dart frog exhibit and follows your squealing noises, putting his hands in his pockets as he stands next to you with a smirk. 

"Not sure if cute is how I'd describe him..." Miguel tilts his head at the mini croc, its green eyes still unmoving. "He'll grow up to be an apex predator like his parents." 

"Look at you, Mr. Wildlife." You look up at him, impressed. "What else do I not know about Kenny here?" 

"Kenny?" 

"That's his name, babe. It says so on the sign." 

"Oh." Miguel laughs. "Well... crocodiles have three eyelids." 

"Oh, you told me that one already, baby. What else?"

Miguel smiles and lists some more facts for you. You love it when he's like this. He was like a sponge, always absorbing knowledge that other people might have found boring or useless. He'd gladly tell you about it too, and he never ever made you feel silly or dumb for not knowing something. 

"The sex of embryos in crocodiles is actually determined by the temperature at the time of incubation. So, Kenny here was probably incubated at a higher temperature which is more associated with producing males, whereas cooler temperatures are associated with producing females." Miguel points.

You click your tongue in admiration. "I learn something new every day. Let's hear one more." 

Miguel purses his lips in thought for a moment, then says, "See those lumps and bumps on his back? Those are actually called, ‘scutes’. They actually enable them to be more stealthy in the water. They stop it from rippling." 

Your eyebrows raise, your eyes still on Kenny and then they move to the tank beside him with the bigger crocs. "Whoa..." you nod. "Well, that proves my point earlier." 

Miguel raises an eyebrow. 

"Crocs have scutes. So they are s'cute!" You cross your arms triumphantly and head towards the ocean part of the aquarium. 

Miguel thinks in his head that you probably wouldn't use that word for long if you knew how large crocodiles killed and ate their prey, but he doesn't argue. He smiles to himself and gives a curt nod in farewell to Kenny before he leaves to catch up to you. 

----

Your eyes get big as you enter the room with jellyfish tanks. Soft blue and pink globs glide effortlessly in the water, sinking down slowly before using their tentacles to propel upwards, bobbing hypnotically in dizzying movements. 

You and Miguel keep stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. You turn to look at him once more, the bioluminescence from the jellyfish mixed with the blacklights of the aquarium cast a soft glow on his features, the crimson in his eyes making him look just as ethereal as the beauty of the sea you're both gazing at. His full lips jut outwards subtly as he purses them in thought, his cheekbones sharp, framing that divine, sculpted face of his. 

He looks at you, catching you staring at him this time. You take his hand, wrapping your other hand around his forearm to pull him closer to you. His head turns briefly for a moment, making sure you two are the only ones in the room before he leans down and gives you a soft kiss, that jittery feeling in your stomach when one of his hands cups the side of your throat, pressing you a little harder against his lips. Before you pull away, you add a lingering bite to his bottom lip, making him blush. 

"Pórtate bien...." (Behave yourself) He murmurs, running his tongue along the slight puffiness on his bottom lip your teeth left behind, trying to calm the small flame you lit inside him. 

Your mouth curls into a grin at the mini rise you got out of him, and you walk into a new area, marvelling at the saffron-colored coral and dainty seahorses. 

Miguel moves to the other side of the exhibit where the largest tank resides with an assortment of fish swimming in and out of a large, fake shipwreck, but stops in his tracks when he sees the clownfish and regal tangs. A twinge of sadness pulls at his heart.

 After watching the seahorse disappear behind a seaweed stalk, you turn and notice where Miguel is standing and your eyebrows knit in worry as you take long strides to come stand by his side, squeezing his hand. 

He exhales at your touch and squeezes back in response, not needing to say anything because you can read him better than anyone. Sometimes this part could be rather hard for him. Clownfish and Regal Tangs were the species of Nemo and Dory. 

Finding Nemo was Gabi's favorite movie.

You both watch the colorful fish in peaceful silence, darting in and out behind rocks, speeding up and slowing down, jolting and occasionally bumping into one another as they weave and glide through their underwater habitat around the large sunken ship.

Eventually, you pull Miguel gently by the hand leading him to one of the empty benches behind you. You sit and watch the fish together some more, enjoying the serenity of the buzzing undersea ecosystem before you, smiling when you see the comically large sea turtle next to all of his smaller fishy cohorts, dodging them and spinning like a rotisserie above your heads like it was second nature for him. 

After a few more minutes, you turn to Miguel, "Well, last up is the shark exhibit." You try and brighten the mood a little, "That one's your favorite. You ready?" 

Miguel turns and looks down at you, his arm still resting on the top of the bench behind you. His hand comes to give your shoulder a squeeze. "You sure? This one's your favorite. We can take our time." 

You try to shake your head and play it off, "No, really I've seen it a hundred times, plus I think there's a new tank with stingrays or something..." 

Miguel knows when you're trying to be too nice, a not uncommon behavior of yours. "We have all afternoon, really. I want to make sure you're having fun." He reassures you. 

Your eyes melt as you sit back in your seat, indulging in staring at the fish for just a while longer like you wanted. Once you're satisfied, you let him know with a nod of your head and a squeeze of his hand and you two make your way to the escalators that run to the lower level, taking you to the shark exhibit. 

As you do, you can't help but think about the times when you invited your friends and they practically rushed you through the whole experience, asking if there was anything new you could look at instead or passing up on going to the aquarium altogether, saying they've seen it all. 

Miguel was one of the only people in your life who didn't make you feel bad for revisiting places you loved because it made you happy to re-experience it all over again. Hell, he was eager to and even expected an invite each time you did. 

Source: Google search, from Las Vegas Magazine

You press your lips together in anticipation and your eyes go wide as if you're looking at it for the first time as you enter the large, underwater tunnel, dozens of sharks swimming in every direction, the shimmery reflection of the water and aqua light of the exhibit immersing you into a whole new world. It takes your breath away and you slow down, pausing in one spot right in the middle of the tunnel, losing yourself in the oceanic beauty above your head. It's one of those no camera moments, a time that requires silence, appreciation, and the person you love right next to you. 

Miguel's watching you with sheer admiration, slightly envious even that something else could make you that speechless with adoration. He wants to make you feel that way all the time. It's memories like these with you that he's so glad he lowered the gates of his heart all that time ago. Never guessing when you crossed his path, it would lead to moments as blissful as these. The best part of the whole thing is that they won't end anytime soon. As long as you'd let him, he'd continue calling you all his. Could now be the time to make it permanent? Perhaps. No, you deserved something more planned out, something really special. He hadn't even gotten you that ring that you liked so much, sending not so subtle hints by texting him the link to it every so often while he was at work. 

When he feels it's a good time, he approaches you from behind, touching the corner of your elbow, curious to know what's been on your mind. "¿En que piensas, mi alma?" (What are you thinking, my soul?)

You hum and turn around, following that low, mesmerizing voice of his, and you look up at him, the face of your lover looking down at you, warmth dominating his countenance that pulls you right in. 

"Just thinking about how much I love coming here with you. You never make me feel bad for wanting to just take my time and see everything, you know? Even if it's my quadrillionth time seeing it. I just love the beach and the ocean, you know? It's like a brand new experience every time." 

Miguel smiles down at you, then his eyes briefly wander, the group in front of you starts moving on so you two are left alone once again. He takes a deep breath and turns you back around so you're looking at the sea life once again, keeping his hands on your arms as he gives them a little love squeeze. "Kind of like how I see you, hmm?" 

You chuckle, leaning backwards into him. His cologne enveloping you in that embrace that made your heart flutter and your knees grow weak every time. "What do you mean, Mig?" 

"Con ojos nuevos cada vez." (With new eyes every time) 

You close your eyes with your head against his chest and his arms wrapped around you for several moments. You bring your own hands up to his, sliding your fingers underneath his jacket sleeves in search of the warm skin of his forearms to which he softly exhales into your hair at the sensation. 

You murmur to him, "Can we get smoothies on the way home?" 

"Hmmm, you don't like my green smoothie recipe?"  Miguel asks with a teasing grin. 

"It had.. too much kale for my liking." 

"Ouch." 

"Sorry, baby." 

"Ha, ha...well, I suppose we could. In that case we might as well get lunch. You need real food too, not just a smoothie. You're ready to go already?" 

"Just a little longer?" 

"Of course, sweetheart." 

You smile and lean back into him once more, letting your bodies lean against each other in familiar, loving solitude as the sharks swim around you in the tunnel of the aquarium, white flashes of light shimmering against the glass every so often that the water hits the sunlight that's slowly begun to peek out from the afternoon skies above. 

🌊🦈🐟🐠🐡💙

[lvlyghost]

All The Nights to Come

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You get hurt during a mission.

Word Count: 900+

Tw: strong language, blood, angst, comfort towards the end. grumpy ghost as usual. bad grammar, and probably a lot of typos. not proofread 🫶🏻✨💞

A/N: just a little one-shot to help me with writer's block. next I'll be working on another part of salvation and a third part of the things i never said since a lot of you asked 🥹💛 remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍

Masterlist✨

You didn't know how to stay out of danger. Or at least that's what all of your teammates said. Especially Ghost.

Ghost. You had a complicated... relationship with the Lieutenant.

Polar opposites.

That's what he had called you both one day.

He's the darkness that comes at night, you're the light he'd gladly let consume him.

"Stop distracting me." He grumbles staring straight ahead. You chuckle at his growing annoyance.

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Ghost. The worst thing that could happen is tripping with a rock." You roll you eyes. "How about we play something, we still have one hour left until we reach the evac point."

"No."

"Comen on! There's no one around." He sighs, but doesn't say anything. You decide to not push his limits. You've started to know him more and more, as much as he would allow, of course. "Is something bothering you?" you finally ask, head tilting down to watch your step. Again the only response you get is silence. "If this is about what happened last night..."

"It's not that." He gruffly interrupts you. Irritated that you're even bringing it up.

"You were the one who said this couldn't happen anymore. So you might as well make up your mind Ghost." You walk faster, leaving him behind, or as much as you can considering his strides are easily longer than yours.

"I am your superior, what the fuck am I supposed to do, kid?" You clench your jaw, hating how his words are setting deep in your heart. The way he emphasized the word superior. "I could get us both suspended, or even worse get us kicked out of the military! Am I really the only one who's thinking?" He seethes.

"Oh well!" You feign amusement. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you cared enough when were fucking each other in my room..." Ghost's body freezes for a brief second before he keeps walking. "If you're bloody scared of letting me in you should've just said it. No need to fucking hurt me like I'm nothing."

"The fuck did you just say? Have you not heard a word I just told you?!" His accent becoming more prominent every time he speaks. "I'm trying to protect you, I don't bloody care what happens to me."

Ghost doesn't notice it, too enraged, looking down at you as he walks closer. But you do.

You see the reflection, a small glimpse of the scope. The sun shining down on the sniper's rifle. Everything moves in slow motion, you scream... or at least you try to, pushing Ghost with all the strength you have. He stumbles a few steps to the side, the pure shock in your face as you realize what's about to happen. A bird chirping in the distance, and what sounds like a cascade near, a river flowing before it hits you. Right on your left shoulder, a shot that was aimed at his heart.

Ghost's heart.

And you take it instead. It pierces through flesh and bones, hurting like million of bullets. Your sight goes black as you start falling, body helplessly hitting the muddy terrain. Shots are fired, a loud shriek and a deep voice echoing but it's so far away. It's getting harder to regain consciousness.

"Why the bloody hell did you do that!?" Fear glowed in his eyes. Ghost's big gloved hand pressing down the wound on your shoulder, the fabric quickly becomes stained with crimson red blood.

Your blood.

"S-Sir?" You choke up. Fighting to keep your eyes open.

Focus on him.

"I'm going to fucking have you on desk rotation for this." He grits his teeth. "Don't you do that ever again. Not for me. Never for someone like me." He leans closer, managing your body in his hands so he can take a better look. He breathes when he sees the exit wound.

"It's my duty..." you murmur, with half-lidded eyes. "To shield and protect my superiors..." you breathe out.

"Don't give me that shite." He scolds you. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect my team." Not just his team. The truth was that he wanted to protect you, he had to. "Now keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah? That's an order sergeant." He commands.

You laugh, with what low energy you have left.

"Sir? You and I both know I'm not good at following orders." He reaches his medical pouch, disinfecting and wrapping as many bandages as he can on your wound.

"Now's a good time you start listenin', kid." He picks you up with more gentleness that's he's ever experienced himself. Who would've thought that a man like him could care for someone else. He has the softest touch, you think. "Think you can hold on until we get there?" He asks, looking down to your face, body too small and light in his arms. If he could kiss you right now...

"Sure thing, Ghost." You murmur, wincing when he starts walking. "This is not what I had in mind when they said we were going to Spain. We could play that game now, right?

A soft chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, making your lips tilt up in a weak yet heartwarming smile.

"Fuckin' hell, love" he doesn't lose sight of your eyes. "I guess we can. As long as you keep talking to me. Don't you dare go somewhere I can't follow."

"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily, Sir."

[bestpigeon]

Vox x male reader unfamiliar feelings..

Vox x male reader.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, aggression, strangling.

Words: 1.6k

Thought I'd do some Vox for a change

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I've been safely working at the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie's been more than kind. She let me stay for free, knowing my struggles. Though despite the face that I've got her help, Vox can still make me appear into thin air if needed. I'm still trapped. A worthless demon like me binded to a powerful overlord called Vox. I was relaxing in my hotel room. I suddenly felt myself black out for a moment. Like I was fading away.

This feeling was familiar, and I wasn't surprised one bit when I opened my eyes to see Vox. Great, what does he need now.

"Vox." I say in a stern tone. I was clearly not happy with his presence.

"Ah, where the FUCK have you been!?" He says as he lunges up in his chair in anger. His screen glitches as he shouts into my face. He's slightly taller, so I have to rotate my head to look up at him.

I hesitate to answer. I mean, if he knew I was in his enemies' hotel? He would absolutely murder me. "Away." i say simply. I didn't intent of telling him my where abouts any time soon.

His face only glitches more in anger. His fists clench as he grabs my neck and pulls me close to him. So my face is inches away from his. "Answer my FUCKING QUESTION" he says shouting once again. His screen glitches when he's angry. I choke and feel tears prickle in my eyes. He was gripping my throat with intense strength. I flinch as he lifts his other hand to my shoulder and claws at it.

"I- just at a..f-friends house!-" i say. I could barely breathe since he was gripping intently at my throat. He squints his eyes at me and stays silent for a while. He rolls his eyes before dropping me onto the floor.

I fall to the floor. I'm a thump. I groan and gasp for air while grasping my now purple neck. Vox speaks again. I feel a familiar chain appear at my neck. I look up at Vox with watery eyes.

"Don't forget who owns you, sweetheart. You dont want to fuck with me!" He says before the chain disintegrates into thin air. My head falls and I wiped the tears on my face before Vox had a chance to notice them. He'd probably make fun of me for being so pathetic. "Yes.. sir." I say in almost a whisper. I felt so pathetic under Vox. He rolls his eyes and snickers. He then walks out of the office, leaving me on the floor.

I slowly catch my breath and rise from the floor. I rub at my still bruised neck before I fo some paperwork. I have a little desk at the back of Voxs office. It's a little space where I can do paperwork. Im assuming the reason why he called me here was to do his shit work. I haven't seen him for about 2 months now. Normally, he would summon me at least once a week.

I sat down and automatically saw a pile of papers dumped onto my desk. I sigh and slump onto the wooden chair. I grab a few papers and start signing and writing some random shit on them. Vox told me to just sign everything. I mean, he doesn't really care. If he can't be fucked to go to a meeting then he would just cancel it, with no feeling of shame at all.

After what feels like hours, I've finally completed half the stacks of paper. I rub my neck again since it's sore. I continue to pick out papers and sigh away. I didn't bother reading them. Why would I? Suddenly, Vox enters his office again. I don't move at all. I don't even bother looking at him. I just lean onto my knuckle and repetitively write Voxs name over and over again. I see Voxs flat-screened head rotate and glare at me. I don't move again, and he just sits onto his chair. He straps the wires to the back of his head and does whatever shit he usually does.

I felt so tired, overwhelmed, and bored. All this dumb paperwork. I mean, I know this guy is famous and all, but still. People can't care that much about him. I mean, I don't. He's not too bad, I guess. Sometimes he's nice sometimes he's not. His mood mainly depends on Valentino. If Val pisses him off, then he would lash out of everyone. It's not entirely his fault. Valentinos a bitch and Vox gets stressed easily. I somewhat understand. But sometimes it's too much.

I rub my worn-out eyes and groan. I hold back a yawn before I lean against the back of my chair. Vox glares at me again, and I turn to make eye contact with him. The silent communication is cut off when I look away. His eyes were different than usual. Some different emotions he's never expressed for me before. Sympathy, maybe? Could be.

I sigh and lean on both my hands. I lean against the table and drift away into a deep slumber. I didn't mean to. Though the activities I did with Charlie earlier and all this paper work.

Vox turns and notices I was asleep. He holds back a smile and approaches my sleeping body. He taps my shoulder to justify that I was actually asleep. He slowly and carefully picks me up, bridal style, and relocates me. He walks towards a door in the corner of his office and walks through it. His bedroom.

He delicately puts me down and tucks me into the bed. He smiled down at me before writing on a piece of paper he found scattered on his desk. He then leaves. He quietly shuts the door and leaves.

Hours later, I awake finally. I have slept for a while. I was clearly sleep deprived. I sit up and look around the room, confused. Where the fuck was I? I quickly went to run out the room when I noticed a ink covered peice of paper. I pick it up and read it.

"Morning, or whenever you wake up. I just wanted to say sorry earlier. I didn't mean to treat you that way. I had a bad day and took it out on you. Let's talk."

From Vox

I couldn't help but smile. That was sweet. Well, the bare minimum, but for Vox, this was a big step. He never shows sympathy or any fucks for his minions. This actually meant something. My head flies up to the door as someone slowly starts opening it. I see Vox glare into the room to see if I was asleep. He enters when he sees me.

"Oh. Mornin'.. um. Are you doing okay?" He says quietly. He approaches the bed and lifts my chin before looking at my neck. I blush and glare at his pretty but flat face.

"Since when are you nice?" I say somewhat teasingly and somewhat truthful. I mean, I'm right. He's never nice.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up." He says as he rolls his eyes with sass. I chuckle slightly and smile up at him. He's been nice, well, in his own way.

"The letter, let's chat," He says. I have no time to deny before he sits on the bed beside me.

"So. Val has been a little fucking asshole. I mean, the idiot thinks he can boss me around like I'm his boy toy, and -" He stops talking for a moment. "Never mind. Um. But I've been.. pissed off lately. So I lashed out on you." He says. He seemed genuine. His normally loud dementure not present. I nod. I somewhat forgive him. My neck still hurts but he's trying. Which makes it count.

"Yeah so. Sorry for being a bitch. Asshole I don't know. I um. I guess I just find you different from the other fucks." I chuckle at that. Though he's calm whenever he talks about someone else he grits his teeth.

"You find me different? How?" I question. I generally was confused. How was I different? I assumed he meant because I'm not an overlord. I'm weaker then everyone else he knows. Anyone that's not Velvet or Valentino is under him. Though I could be wrong. Because I've never met this Vox before.

"I guess I uh.. feel different with you. The others fucking stress me out. You dont- as much." He says. Adding a snarcky comment on the end. Of course. Why wouldn't he?

"How.. surprisingly charming." I say. He rolls his eyes and looks away. He thinks of what to say before turning to look at me.

"Oh fuck you. Really. But I feel different with you. Fuck knows what that means." He says as he leans back slightly. I smirk and glare at him.

"Aww you have a little crush on me Vox?~" I say teasingly. His screen turns a lighter and brighter blue. I pull playfully at his bowtie all while having complete eye contact.

"Oh fuck you asshole- I'm trying to be nice yknow?" I smile at that and move my hands away from his bowtie. I look into hi alluring red eyes. They're actually quite beutiful.

"Yeah. I appreciate it though. Your not too bad." I say. He smiles at that. Oh that smile. He normally just smirks but that soft smile is so fucking attractive. I grab his bowtie again and peck the side of his screen. "I'll see you tomorrow, Vox." I say before getting up and leaving.

Vox was left dumbfounded. You just kissed him? Why? Why did he like it? His screen blanked out and read; 'warning, emotion overload.'

Let's just say, Vox's day got better. Way better

[gurugirl]

Sneaky for part 3 of unicorn? I'm so excited guru you don't understand!

I'm so glad you're excited!!! I'm just over 4800 words into part 3 now. I'll give you a little something below the cut :) Thank you!!

I would give you guys more but there's so much going on in this part that some bits would just give too much away. Also this is raw from my drafts and not edited or proofread so the final version might look a little different. xoxo

Part 1 | Part 2

Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.

You lost badly at the first game of darts which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.

Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.

“Another pitcher of beer?” The guy asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“Oh! Yes, please.”

With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then to the table next to the window.

You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.

He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.

You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked back to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?

“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”

After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.

“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.

He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”

“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“

“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.

Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.

“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.

“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”

You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”

He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”

You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”

“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”

You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.

Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.

“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn to start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take some lessons.”

“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.

Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.

“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”

You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.

“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”

You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.

“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.

You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by, headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.

Tags (for The Unicorn): @littlenatilda @harryspirate @itsmytimetoodream @princessaxoo @summertime-pills @egirlshit @chesthairrry @idontknowbi @f1n3l1n3 @tpwk-sophie @justtilly @fictionalmensblog @harrrystyles5 @gem1712

[fallout4-reacts]

How would the companions react to walking in on Sole nude (not in like a sexual way, but like, got a wound on their thigh during a fight and was in the middle of stitching it up in their room with the door closed or something like that)

That raider was ruthless, sneaking around Sole and opening them up like a fish with their bloody, rusted knife. Sole made it through and made it to Sanctuary owing to the stimpacks, but now they has to assess the extent of their injuries and heal themself. Sole totally removed their garments as the enemy drove his blade directly into their ribcage and managed to slide down to the thigh, shocked by the length of the cut. Then they hear footsteps in the corridor...

Cait : She casts a quick glance at Sole before crossing her arms and leans against the doorframe.

"Not bad, I had one like that before. Ya can come back after you're done patching and tell that fool Preston that I'm not going to take care of his stupid tatos. He wants a planter, but I'm too busy with my bat knocking the heads off the raiders trying to take us from behind."

Sole remains stuck for several seconds before regaining the capacity to speak.

"Can you get out of here now?" they ask, their face expressionless.

"What? Are you going to say you're shy? You don't have to; you're hiding a lovely body beneath your armor."

"OUT!"

Codsworth : (OK, not exactly speaking steps) In a nervose movement, his mechanical arms rotate two or three times on themselves. He tries to keep his cool by moving his three eyes in unison towards the corridor.

"Please excuse my untimely disruption, Mum/Sir; I came to inform you that supper will be served tonight in the common room. All of your companions will be present, but if you want, I may arrange a meal for you in your extremely quiet dining room. I understand if you don't feel compelled to... socialize."

Sole smiles at their butler, but he doesn't look at them.

"That's OK, Cods, eh... When... I'm finished, I'll join you in the lounge to discuss this further."

"Definitely!"

And the robot bolted from the room.

Curie : She runs over to inspect the huge wound.

"Oh no! What occurred? How come you didn't provide proper care?"

"That's exactly what I was about to do."

"This lesion requires disinfection and suturing! Just wait for me; I'll collect my equipment!"

Sole would have liked to object, or at the very least inform Curie that it is not appropriate to enter people's bedrooms without their permission because they may be... naked... but the Synth has already gone. Sole, with a pout, casts a glance at... their own health kit.

Danse : If embarrassment could kill him, he would have died right there. His face is absolutely bloodless. Not that he hasn't seen other naked soldiers; intimacy is a very meaningless concept in the field. But Sole, in this situation. He feels as if he has crossed an unbearable line and committed an awful act. He swiftly turns around and makes a motion to exit, but his brain records the second piece of information.

"You are severely injured!"

"It's mostly superficial, but it is."

"Need…help?"

"No, I'm doing just fine on my own."

"Perfect!"

And he's back in the hallway as swiftly as he came. Sole will have to wait until the paladin explains why he came to see them in the first place.

Deacon : (glitch power) As soon as his eyes are drawn to Sole's nude body, a huge wicked smile grows on his lips, and before his friend is able to react, he is in his underwear. Sole is taken aback and takes some time to comprehend what the spy is saying.

"Is this some sort of nudist gathering? Or is this an Adam and Eve celebration?"

"This is MY room, and I am HURT!"

"Oh, yes!"

Deacon is clothed again before Sole can say anything else. The unfortunate vault dweller is fully swept away this time.

"So, let me look at this wound— 

"No, get out!"

"Alright, alright. Whatever you desire! But if you ever feel like the planet is spinning much faster than it should, give me a call and I'll be there."

And now he's gone. Sole winks, unsure whether the scene was real or if they have hallucinating.

Dogmeat : He lies on the bed with his head resting on his legs, waiting for Sole to finish.

Elder Maxson : He enters and exits the room. It was a single continuous motion. With no change in expression. When Sole is finished, they dress and proceed to the living room, where they find the Elder in a pretty stiff position. The Elder, on the other hand, constantly stands straight.

"You're done, Knight. I needed the report on supermutant activity near Satellite Station Olivia immediately. Did you finish cleaning everything?"

"Not a single mutant left alive, sir."

"Perfect, perfect, perfect. I'm returning to the Prydwen in order to dispatch the soldiers to retrieve any sensitive data that may be left. I intend you get there as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Knight..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Please never bring up this unfortunate incident again."

"The satellite station's super mutants?"

"You are fully aware of what I mean. Dismiss."

"This is my living room, sir."

"Perfect, perfect, perfect. Have a nice day."

He walks out of the home, and we can hear the motor of a vertibird in the distance. Sole then allows themselves to burst out laughing.

Hancock : His smile becomes so large that he appears to have much less flesh on his face. Sole's expression is devastation.

"Wow, this is my kind of job!"

"I am hurt!"

"Yes, I see. That's too bad. Need a hand?"

"Definitely not!"

"Well, I'll meet you in the lounge."

Hancock walks back. Sole takes comfort in the fact that, despite his debauchery, Hancock never crosses the line, demonstrating some semblance of... respect...

Gage : He enters the room and doesn't seem to be bothered in the least. He begins casually declaring the report of Nuka-World's behaviours.

"Porter! I’m naked!" 

"I saw. But as I was saying about Nisha’s operations— 

"I’m naked and I want you to go out immediately."

"All right, Boss."

Sole is still taken aback by the raider's dashing demeanour. But, well, Gage has undoubtedly seen some green ones in his life, and it does make him any more impressed by anything.

MacCready : His expression is stern, as though it were Sole's fault. Sole, for their part, is frozen in place. MacCready makes a hand gesture with a scowl on his face.

"When you're finished—whatever you do—I need your support to recover—

"Get out!"

"Okay, I'll wait in the living room."

When Sole has finished, they proceed to the living room with the intent of reprimanding the mercenary, but he sits quietly on the couch with a broad smile.

"Aside from that, it was a pretty spectacular view. "Not too bad, you know?"

The vault dweller pauses before turning to return to their room. Before they rip their friend's head off, they need to scream into their pillow.

Nick Valentine : The tin can has a swirl function. Sole notices this because as soon as they realise Nick is in the doorframe, they can only see his back.

"God! Pardon! I… I didn’t think. I should have known better. I saw you come in and I wanted to... It's unforgivable, God. Pardon."

"It's fine, Nick, and given how many times you've patched me, it's not like you haven't seen these parts of my body before. It's just that you have the big picture right now."

It makes Nick feel even more uncomfortable. Even though they are over two metres apart, Sole can clearly hear Nick's fans react by kicking in all at the same time. They can't help but chuckle at the scenario, but they have too much respect for the detective to make fun of him.

Piper : A reaction halfway between Danse and Nick."Wow, Blue!" she exclaimed in turning heels. "Sorry! I’ll uh» she’s cut off by her nervous laugh «waiting for you in the living room. Yeah, I’ll just wait for you in the living room. There. Do you have nuka cola in your fridge?"

Preston : He already possesses the grace and stature of a marble statue. He now has the stiffliness. He's not even blinking. He was about to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Not even breath, by the way. Sole thinks he could castigate him, but the Colonel's state of stupor is heartbreaking. They stoop, take up their coat, and drape themselves in it. When they speak, they try to employ as calm a tone as possible.

"You wanted to see me, Preston?"

"See... you? NO! Well, uh... you mean like in the expression? Okay, as stated in the expression. Okay. Yes, I was hoping to see you. But not you! I mean, I saw you, I couldn't deny it. I saw you! It’s awful! No! I mean, you're not awful! I regret! I'm truly sorry! I should have made a signal or knocked on the door— 

"Breathe!"

Sole crosses their arms, unsure whether to laughs or be annoyed by this situation. It's the first time they've seen the man in such a nervous state. They decide to take a humoros approach.

"I don't even have a door to knock on. It's all right, Preston; I understand your discomfort and that you don't mean anything."

"Of course not! I am forever thankful to you for understanding me. I mean, to grasp the situation as it is. I'll be in the living room waiting for you."

"Does a settlement need my help?"

"Yes!" 

"My pip-boy is sitting on the table. Put it on the map, and I'll get to there as soon as I can."

"Thank you!"

The man exits the room without further questioning. Sole locates the small community on their map, but they don't see their Colonel again for the rest of the day. As if he was trying to avoid them...

Strong : The super-mutant frown.

“Puny human should wear armor.”

“Puny human is in their ROOM and you GO OUT!”

“Puny human stupid. Puny human should never let their guard down.”

“GET OUT!”

“Strong get out, but Strong wants to know when human and Strong are going to get the Milk of Human Kindness.”

“GET OUT!”

X6-88 : Hands behind back, straight, and unimpressed.

"Ma'am/Sir, it is not appropriate to deal with such an injury without the expertise of the Institute's doctors."

"X6? Could you just leave my room right away?"

The Courser executes, but only for a few steps in the hallway.

"I reiterate my recommendation that you be taken in to one of the Institute's physicians for a professional body examination."

"Get the fuck away!"

"There is no need to get carried away and use vernacular. Unlike the way you handled the damage you caused yourself on your last assignment, my advice are perfectly adequate."

"I'm perfectly capable of handling the damage I've done to myself, and if you don't want me to do any damage to you, I recommend you take the Sanctuary Grand Tour right now!"

X6 obeys without fully comprehending why the future director places themselves in such a state.

[whumpshaped]

a concept just rammed into my head and i will now share it with my fellow Ambac Rotators on this blog: beck and helle species(?) switch

beck as a (relatively) new vampire

helle as a vampire hunter

no idea where this is gonna go. i just had the sudden image of human!helle pinning down a vampire 🛐

good day anon. i finally have the tentative spoons to engage w the fantasy (that ive been meaning to write for FOREVER and ur ask served as a good reminder of my goals and aspirations thank u)

masterlist

vampire hunter beck

tw vampire whumpee, dehumanisation, pet whump

Beck had been overly cautious every time he went hunting. He had to be, as a stupid little runt without anyone to protect him.

He had crawled out of his grave and into the clutches of a woman he barely recognised, only to immediately be discarded once she realised he couldn't use magic. He had begged her to leave him alive at least, promising to stay out of her way and go 'hunt' on someone else's territory; not his proudest moment, but then again, he had little to be proud of lately.

He hunted as best as he could, picking off lone passerby and muffling their cries as he drank his fill, too frantic and hungry to really care about causing pain. Then he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, terrified of drawing attention to himself. And the cycle would repeat.

Until one day, he slipped up and chose the wrong target.

Beck had never seen a hunter before, especially not so up close and personal — and now that they were straddling his waist and putting a stake to his heart, he decided he didn't fucking like them. He had his hands up on either side of his head without having to be told, completely still in an attempt to appease the hunter who had caught him.

"You're the runt," they stated, not even a hint of doubt in their voice, but Beck nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir," he breathed, very aware of the sharp point digging into his chest whenever he dared inhale.

The title wasn't a conscious choice, really. He'd had to talk his way out of quite a few confrontations before, and if there was one thing he'd learned throughout all of it, it was that manners never hurt.

The hunter looked amused, leaning down a little and inadvertently placing more of their weight on the stake. Beck tensed under them, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of his inevitable demise. "Sir? Have I gotten myself a polite little leech?"

"I can be very polite so long as I'm alive, sir," he said hastily, and they chuckled.

"Alive... as if. Don't flatter yourself. I've seen corpses that looked better than you."

Beck pressed himself even more against the ground. "You're right, sir," he squeaked. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, listen." They clicked their tongue at him, like one would to get a pet's attention, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again. "I've got a deal for you."

"A... a deal?"

Was this common? He had nothing to compare this to. Were all hunters like this?

"Only because you're so well-behaved." They pressed down on the stake a little, as a gentle reminder for Beck to keep behaving, and he was suddenly very eager to nod along. "You see, runts are pretty rare. And regular vampires... they can't really be kept. It's a one and done deal, I come in, I stake them, I get my money."

That was simple enough. Terrifying, but simple. But also– "K-kept?"

"Kept," they repeated, grin widening. "Like a dog."

Beck swallowed. He had a feeling of where this was going, and he did not like the implications. "I... I see."

"And while I'm pretty successful, as far as hunters go... This is a dangerous job. I could use a buffer."

"No," he said timidly. "Please, I can't do anything, I can't– I can barely hunt, I'm starving half the time–"

"I could do with bait, too," they interrupted, shushing Beck when they saw him open his mouth to protest. "And of course, because I deal fairly, I'd let you have some blood in exchange. Can't have a pet without feeding it."

That... That made the offer sound much better, all of a sudden. He hadn't had anything to drink in at least a week, getting by on whatever dead animal he could find in the parks at night. Drinking from roadkill. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of human blood, even though the hunter hadn't yet specified what they'd be feeding him.

"Mmm, what is it? Interested?" they taunted, and Beck couldn't resist nodding a little. He wanted someone to protect him so badly; apparently even if they were a hunter.

"What... what do I need to do, sir?" he asked as respectfully as he possibly could, already wincing when the hunter pulled out a collar from their coat pocket and threw it into his hand.

"First things first, put that on. We'll discuss the rest on the way home."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[milflewis]

22 + chalex for the prompt thing! 🫶🏻

22. hug

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 1: So. I am fucked. Surprise though! So you can stop all the tears — talking about you, Commander, the softy that you are - I am alive.]

—

Two weeks after NASA has declared Alex Albon dead and left on Mars, Charles writes to George. He sends it to Sebastian and makes him swear to get it to Lewis in the crew’s next info dump, who will give it to George.

He tells him about how Alex’s plants are doing, and about his shifts at the hospital, how he’s on night work now, with the shifts rotating over. He tells him about going to the beach and just standing there for hours, staring out at the water, until he could no longer feel his face from the cold. He tells that he’s more or less sleeping, that he’s going to work, that he’s eating. He tells him that he hopes they’re keeping safe and that he loves him.

He doesn’t talk about Alex. He doesn’t tell George he doesn’t blame him. He knows he’ll know. That he won’t need Charles to write the words.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: I think I've got this actually. Ignore yesterday. Getting stranded on Mars kinda messes with your head. I've got a plan and I'm feeling good about it! ]

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: Update. I do not got this. If I die, Charles, I demand a mourning period of at least eighty-three years. Please bury me under some nice flowers. Blue if you can.]

—

“Come back to me,” Charles says, arms tight around Alex’s neck, mouth pressed under his ear. He smells of shampoo and asphalt. His bony elbows are digging into Charles’s back.

“I’m going to make Mars my bitch,” Alex says, grinning, and Charles shoves him away with a laugh.

Alex catches his wrist with a warm hand. His palm is dry and calloused. “Charlie,” he starts, low and careful. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Charles’s voice cracks. He tries again. “Yes, I know, of course, of course. Me too.”

Alex smiles, and it’s wonderful. Charles memorises the shape of it.

Down the line, with his back to the hoard of cameras, Commander Lewis Hamilton is pressing his mouth against his husband’s knuckles. Both of their eyes are closed.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 54]: Did you know that if you grow something somewhere that you've then colonised it? So, like, now that I've got my potatoes going does that mean I now own Mars? A win for the gays and the losers, motherfuckers!]

—

Toto swivels in his chair and looks out of the window to the sky beyond. Night is slipping in.

"What is it like?" he wonders. “Stuck up there. Alone. He does not know we know. What does that do?"

He looks at Niki. "I wonder what he is thinking right now."

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 61: How come Aquaman can control whales. They're mammals! Makes no sense.]

—

Some days, when he hasn’t had much sleep and the air warps and curls over on itself with heat, he sees Charles.

He’ll only ever be far off in the distance — too far for Alex to even see the details of his face, let alone touch him. He’d know the shape of those shoulders anywhere.

Alex waves to him sometimes. This dark blur on the horizon that just stands there and watches. He never waves back. The sun on Mars is unforgiving.

Alex wonders if he’s moisturising his hands. The latex exam gloves he has to wear for work always dry out his skin.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 76: I'm going to have to science the shit out of this. George, please don't use this as porn. I know how hot and bothered you get about me being all smart and sexy.]

—

George has, like, every sitcom ever downloaded in his personal storage. Alex works his way through them all. If he never hears another laugh track in his life he’d die happy.

Lewis’s music list is jam packed full of different genres. There is a surprising amount of The Beatles in there. Alex wouldn’t have guessed he was a fan of them.

Alex decides the music Lewis had made himself, all chords and notes and little words, is some of his favourites. It can be hard hearing other people speak at you and not being able to talk back.

Every book Valtteri had downloaded is in Finnish. Alex thinks he probably should’ve guessed that would be the case.

It turns out Finnish is very hard to learn, especially when the only words you’ve picked up are swears that you’ve heard Valtteri muttering under his breath before media duties.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 206: Finally got into contact with NASA because I am that bitch and I will be damned if I die here, and that is a promise. They won’t stop telling me what to do now though, so, like, it’s a give and take, I guess.]

—

The first thing Charles notices about Alex is that he has freckles all over his face but especially across his nose and cheeks. This feels very important.

The second thing he notices is that he is tall and his wrists are bony. Charles eyes the strip of skin where his MATHS IS SEXY top rides up. There is an equally tall man sitting in the booth beside him with a shirt that reads: NO ITS NOT.

The third thing he notices is that he is extremely drunk. His cheeks are flushed and he’s half falling over the table as he tries to explain something while laughing.

Charles probably falls in love right there if he’s being honest, even if he never gets the courage to go up and talk to him. Alex is the one who says hi, weeks later, asking him if he wants to play pool.

Charles doesn’t know how to play pool. He says yes anyway because he thinks it might make Alex smile. It does.

He keeps saying yes and Alex keeps smiling. They move together after college graduation.

Charles is coming off a double shift and he can’t feel his feet when Sebastian shows up to give him a ride home. He makes him tea when they get in. It’s a blend of something herbal and sweet like honey.

Sebastian tells him Alex is still alive as Charles breathes in the steam. He tells him that they left him behind on Mars. That it was an accident. That they’re figuring out how to get him home.

Alex is alive, Charles thinks. I’ll get to see Alex smile again, Charles thinks, and promptly bursts into tears.

—

[08:47] BUTTON: Good, keep us posted on any mechanical or electrical problems. By the way, the name of the probe we're sending you is Iris. You know, the one who rode the waves of heaven using the wind. I think she's also the chick with the rainbows.

[08:49] ALBON: Gay probe coming to save me. Got it.

—

I’m so glad it’s not me stuck up there, the navigational assistant tells him. He was the one who discovered Alex was still alive in the first place. He tells him he noticed the MAV moving. His name is Yuki.

Alex thinks he’s going to say he’d miss people or fresh fruit or Netflix or sex or something. Alex hasn’t had a mango in so long. He hasn’t had a blowjob in even longer. Some days he isn’t sure which is worse.

Yuki is very very funny.

Can you imagine only eating potatoes, he tells Alex. I would rather die dead and alone. And then: though I guess you would not have to imagine.

And then: the eating potatoes bit. sorry. you haven’t done the other one yet.

Alex laughs so much he rebreaks a only barely healed rib and NASA yells at them both. His calcium levels are very low.

—

[21:27] BUTTON: How are the crops affecting that number? As to your question: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to concentrate on their own mission.

[21:30] ALBON: The crops are potatoes. I got them from the ones we were supposed to eat for Christmas. They're doing great but the available farmland isn't sustainable. I'll run out of food around SOL 900. Also. Fucking tell the crew I'm alive???? What the fuck is wrong with you????

[21:31] BUTTON: SOL 900 is great news. That'll give us time to get a supply mission to you. And I’ve been told to tell you to watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcasted around the world.

[21:32] ALBON: Look! A pair of boobs - > ( . Y . )

—

Dear Alex: Apparently, NASA is letting us talk to you now. And I drew the short straw. Sorry we left you behind on Mars.

But we just don't like you. You're sort of annoying. And you shed hair everywhere.

Also, it's a lot roomier on the Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks. But, I mean, it's only botany. It's not a real science.

How's Mars?

— George.

—

Alex stares up at the plain white ceiling of the HAB. The wind roars and rages outside and the Level Threw sandstorm shakes the walls. It holds. It always holds.

When he makes the journey to find the HAB of the HERMES TWO, he’ll be technically crossing international waters without any explicit permission from a governmental body. That makes him a pirate.

I’m going home, Alex thinks. And then: I can’t wait to tell Charlie that he’s married to a bad boy.

Alex runs a hand over his face. He’s even gotten the beard to go with it.

—

Dear George: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mum.

How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the horizons. They really do go on forever.

— Alex.

—

"Thing is," Alex scrambles to say, mouth dry and sore. "I'm selfish. I want all the memorials back home to be just about me. I don't want the rest of you losers in any of them. I can't let you guys blow the VAL. Also, I'm the only one who is allowed to make Charlie cry. Them's the rules."

"Oh," Lewis says. "Well, I mean, if you won't let us — wait. Wait a minute, I think I see something on my shoulder patch here. Oh, right, yeah, it says I'm the Commander. So, you know, what I say goes. Shut the fuck up and sit tight. We're coming to get you."

Alex swallows — or tries to at least. His whole body aches. He thinks he broke a rib, or two. Or three. He wants to cry.

"Copy that, sir."

"We've got you, man." Lewis's voice is warm. Alex doesn't have to imagine his smile anymore. He's going to get to see it very soon.

—

Alex is all bone and mouth when Charles gets to see him again. He has lost so many of his freckles. He hugs him close, pressing his thumbs into the hinge of Alex's jaw. Alex bows and curls over him and Charles doesn't let either of them fall.

He tastes vaguely of salt and snot when Charles kisses him. Charles is crying.

Alex is smiling when he pulls away, arms tight around Charles' back. "Look at your face," he says softly. He's talking to himself.

"I'm here," Charles replies, louder than necessary. Alex blinks at him and his smile, impossibly, gets even bigger. Charles's stomach squirms.

"You're a mess," Alex teases him, running a hand through Charles' hair. Charles doesn't say anything about how his hands shake.

“You should stay here and take care of me then,” Charles says, and Alex closes his eyes, smushing his nose hard into the skull of Charles’s forehead. Charles digs his nails in.

Fuck you, Mars, Charles. Fuck you.

[mathlann]

Requisite Disclaimer: I don't see the point in keeping this OC specific but, my game isn't your game etc. etc. I'm coming from a Sub! Marazhai perspective for context but just my interpretation.

So I've been rotating that Act 5 Kiss in my head for too long but I think I've pinned down what makes the Act 5 Kiss work, for me at least. Because inasmuch as the "Marazhai hates kissing" thing is fun, I don't think the actual Act of kissing (with or without teeth) is really what he's objecting to that first time. It's that the Rogue Trader is messing up the Game (ie, the terms of their fling/him teaching them how to be more Drukhari). And I think the Act 5 Kiss, or rather how you get it, is a fun bookend on ending the Game/re-balancing the dynamic?

Long-ass ramble under the cut

So, like I was saying above, the RT and Marazhai's relationship is pretty explicitly a Game that he's playing out of boredom. The Rogue Trader receives "[an education on] the true Aeldari soul" he receives "a fleeting titillation" until it's time for him to become Archon/become a Merc/join the clown show, whatever. He initiates the proposition, and he's the one setting the terms through the whole thing. It's up to the Rogue Trader to stay in their role and meet his standards, or they give up, or he gets bored and leaves. And a major part of his romance is that he's very action over words in regards to what he wants and how he feels.

As far as the first two kisses go, it's not the act itself it's the context imo. The first (bitey) kiss, he initiates, and it's during the lust/murder-high part of the Feast, which is what he invited the Rogue Trader to do. The Kiss Attempt™ by the Rogue Trader is the next morning after all that's worn off. And, granted the scene itself is pretty cozy, considering (he's literally leaning over the RT and telling them not to keep him waiting ie, next hookup) so it makes sense why the Rogue Trader might decide a goodbye kiss is appropriate. But it's a misstep I think because it's too intimate, bordering on sentimental, which is very much not the Drukhari way of doing things (it shows weakness). You aren't lovers in that way, the Rogue Trader is a toy/a pet, fun time is over and he's headed out. To try to pretend more than that is past the Game and an expression of weakness that needs to be put in its place as a "mon-keigh absurdity" as he'd say.

Compare that to the Branding, which is much more his style. It is, for all intents and purposes, a commitment scene, but he doesn't actually say "I want this," he's decided that the Rogue Trader has earned it from him. He talks around, but doesn't even explicitly say, he wants the RT to brand him either, (if asked, best he gives is "well....I mean after I've been so ~submissive~ you would let me just walk around without???? 👀"). And he threatens to walk out if the Rogue Trader keeps asking too many questions because again, he's the lead here and to say so would be to play his hand, which is a major no. If he grabs the RT like he's going to brand them....and it just so happens they have a mighty easy time grabbing that knife from him....well, there's the answer, no words needed. And if the Rogue Trader doesn't grab the knife, well, there's his answer. Y'all don't need to see each other anymore.

Which also makes the final Feast/Big confession hit the way it does because it is the first and only time he's being very direct in how he feels and what he wants, ie. they're equals and he wants the to keep up *all of this* for as long as they've got. And...that's a slip up irt his control of the situation/the Game that the Rogue Trader can exploit. To see:

And for extra juice, the actual threaten to break up line after this is "I am not interested. I think I have played enough with you" which is a nice reversal ie. "testing the limits of who is running the Game." Because if Marazhai's confession is a test, accepting fails it, they were too sentimental. Except he's not actually testing them and he gets genuinely upset and scared at the idea that the Rogue Trader would just leave him like that. Also, (at time of writing iirc), you can't get The Kiss™ if you didn't attempt it earlier at the first Feast. I think it's interesting if, perhaps, that bit of sentimentality made him assume the Rogue Trader was the one who was down bad/being sappy this whole time. Which was fun to play around with before, but now he's caught feelings and the Rogue Trader potentially out-manipulating him on that front only to "abandon" him now is a major blow to his, being, frankly.

And if the Rogue Trader pushes further with the "I do not hear enough pleading in your voice" line, the narration notes he's stuck between "despair and pride" while still refusing to say more because it's not in him to say what he wants with that kind of honesty. And again, like, he's Drukhari so you're never going to get an "I love you" out of him, and he wouldn't accept that from the Rogue Trader in turn, but he doesn't know how to otherwise show that because Drukhari aren't big on straightforward lovey dovey kiss stuff even when they actually feel it. So the Kiss™, a real (romantic) one is an olive branch in the "you don't have to say it but I'll believe you're being honest if you do this" sense but also the Rogue Trader winning irt "the Game is over, show me we're equals, I met you on your level (see: his bullshit), meet me on mine (mon-keigh absurdities)."

[toska-writes]

This was a little idea that I came up with for some reason but yeah.

“Ad’ika”

Summary: Fives have been patronizing you for the last couple of rotations with a word in a language you don’t understand. Now you’ll stop at nothing to figure out his little game.

Paring: Fives x GN Padawan Reader (PLATONIC WOOO)

Warning: none :) please try to enjoy

Word count: 902 This was meant to be a drabble but long then I expected, but shorter than my normal fics… if that makes sense

Notes: giving myself a pat on the back for actually proof reading something. Thank you thank you *bows*



Fives laughed as he practically draped himself over Echo's shoulder, he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Just tell me Fives!" You shot your hands up, running them quickly through your hair. Fives for the past few rotations started calling you a name in a language you didn't understand which was very unfair.

Ad'ika.

It has been haunting you since Fives started.

You knew some words in Mando'a but this was not one of the limited few.

A smirk flashed across his face again. Echo rolled his eyes at his batch mates actions knowing it was stupid to peeve off a Jedi.

"Echo come on." You tried him for the 100th time. "At least tell me it's nothing bad."

"It's nothing bad." Echo simply said looking from you to Fives.

"Then tell me!"

Fives only shook his head before looking down to his comms. "Maybe after training, which your going to be late for." He shot a finger up silencing your next thought, then jabbed towards the door the doors.

You took one last desperate glance at Echo which he only replayed with a shrug. Heavy footsteps stomped through the halls and out of their ear shot.

"Are you ever going to end their misery? I'm sure by tomorrow they're going to be threatening you with that lightsaber." Echo glance back at Fives as he now decided to get up once you were gone.

"Maybe." Fives said with a laugh. "I'm already in too deep, I said it on accident once but it's kinda growing on me." He bumped shoulders with Echo as they walked out into the halls.

"Besides it's making all the vodes very happy to have just a little fun keeping a small secret."

"And to be calling them that." Echo added as they both turned without thought to the barracks.

You dodged out of the way as you felt the air of the punch that Anakin sent right against your cheek.

The small training room aboard the Dominator wasn’t ideal but between missions it was perfect, or even to clear up some thoughts.

Anakin sent another kick that barely missed grazing your side. You could hear the load inhale that came from the Captain watching

“Y/N what’s going on today?” He asked in between punches and kicks. “Your distracted- I can barely hear myself think.”

With a grunt you sent another kick towards your master which he easily blocked. “Fives is driving me up the wall.” You said with a breath.

“What’s new? Welcome to my life.” Rex added from the wall he leaned on. “What did he do this time.” Anakin finished for him, bringing the sparing to a stop.

“He keeps saying something to me that I don’t understand. Every cycle I hear it but he won’t tell me, none of the men will.” You slide down the wall to the dusty mat that covered most of the floor.

Rex let out a small chuckle before Anakin joined you on the floor. “Well what is it?”

You leaned your head on the wall before answering. “Ad’ika.” The new language felt weird on your tongue. “Do you know it master?”

Anakin glanced at Rex before looking back at you. “Fives is calling you that?” He asked with a smile growing on his face.

“Yes! All the men are. Do you know what it means?” Your eyes lightened up looking form Anakin and Rex. Maybe finally you’ll get answers.

Anakin along with Rex started to laugh, clearly something about your misery was amusing to them.

“Well since Fives asked me not too I’m sure the general would be perfect to let you in on their little game.” Rex put his hands up in surrender as he joined the pair on the ground.

Rex watched as Anakin leaned over and whispered in your ear. You snapped your head towards his direction with a questioning look on your face.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure Y/N.” Anakin said with a smirk. “I’ve definitely heard Rex say it before.”

It made perfect sense now.

An old mission where you and Fives were in a Saloon when someone asked who you were- it rolled right off his tongue just as easy as his name did when introducing himself.

In the dead of night after a hard campaign- the comforting words seemed to wrap you up like a blanket.

All the times Fives has called you that seemed to be seen clearly through the light of day. They all came flooding back to you.

It seemed like a trance when you got up and walked away from the training room. Your brain didn’t really know where you were going but your legs did.

Around a corner, then another. You practically bumped into Fives as you turned into another corridor, the path to the barracks seemed engraved into your mind at this point.

“How was training Ad-“ Before he could finish his sentence you wrapped your arms in a rib crushing hug around Fives.

Caught off guard it took him a second to really register what was going on. “Is everything all right Y/N?”

You nodded into his chest, staying in his warm embrace for a moment longer before you said. “I like that name. Please don’t ever stop using it.”

You felt Fives give a little chuckle before he said. “I knew you would.

Ad’ika: Little one/ Son/ Daughter

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu

[lisxdumbr]

Hi I'm insane and I think I talked about this once in the past but today I'm going insane once again

The relationship of 2wink with math

Now, for this explanation I'll take notes from 3-4 main things. I'm sure there are many more references but this is what I could quickly grab from the top of my head.

Yes, 2wink is constantly being related to math, starting with their unit name, it's the only unit that has a number in it, even looking at their brand, we see constant triangle shapes that help support this idea.

Now, I believe the reason is clear looking at it in a geometrical (?) way. even in a trigonometrical way if you want to get fancy. 2wink's concept revolves around the fact that they're twins, they're two people who mirror each other. They're symmetrical.

The first clue that we get comes from a very old song actually. Heart Prism Symmetry, just look at the lyrics for a second

It's a song that clearly talks about them mirroring each other, since as we know, an important part of their lore has to do with how they're so identical not even their father can distinguish them.

Speaking of, we hear Hinata's demons in a part of the song (cough, go read setsubun)

Now, is their symmetry something natural? How is it represented, what is this telling us? I think Heart Prism Symmetry is a song in which they're loving and honoring their pasts being a two in one package for such a long time. This doesn't mean they're trying to be symmetrical on purpose though, they know already that the symmetry will break one day.

(again I'm sure these are Hina's demons, someone give him a hug)

Now this also has to do with the triangle part that I mentioned before, there are many different symmetrical shapes but the fact that they chose triangles is fascinating to me. Triangles are the most basic shape, since you need at least 3 sides to create a shape (less than that is just a line). But triangles are so interesting because of that flex (?), they present themselves in many ways and even inside other shapes. You can fit a triangle in any shape, even a circle can fit triangles since at the end of the day, a circle is just a 360° rotation.

They chose the most powerful shape and I'm obsessed with that concept.

But now, In which other ways is math involved? This is where I enter !! era, which is the point of the story in which 2wink are trying to discover more about themselves and we reach Twin Peaks.

Twin Peaks is Hinata's first focus event and it's full of math, starting from the title of the chapters

Factorization and division by zero.

Now, if you actually want to relate those concepts to Hinata as a person, it gets a little bit depressing because, well, division by zero,,, no matter how big your numbers are, (CORRECTION) you'll end up in an undefined result.

But this has symbolism once again ! I don't remember the story exactly but there's a story where Yuta is referring as them as math concepts and he refers to Hinata as a symbol. Now the thing is both Hinata and Yuta have opposite beliefs of themselves, so both of them say the other is a positive or a negative while they're a negative or a positive.

I've always thought about how Yuta may feel that Hinata is stealing a bit from him and perhaps that's why he thinks Hinata substracts, but at the same time, Hinata has done so much for both of them so of course he adds too.

Now since this can be a little confusing, let's stick with the factorization and division by zero concept, since that's how Hinata perceives himself I believe? I think factorization is a clear concept for how Hinata kinda gatekeeps himself and his brother and. everything. in general? And oh well, we know the guy is depressed as hell.

Now this makes me move to the important part of the story which is the second event. Yes. What we all waited for and screamed our lungs out when we saw: Yuta growing his hair and separating himself from Hinata.

If an equilateral triangle is symmetrical, what happens when one side is larger that the other? Is it equilateral still? No. But is it still a triangle? Yes

In the swee2wink album, we got a song called Polyphonic World in the B side, and the lyrics are fascinating let me tell you

1 + 2 = 3, which can be a triangle or as they say, a volume too (³), so the world is created with 3.

But I want to point out this part because I find it EXTREMELY important for the lore:

"our hearts want to create new shapes" "make new shapes that will change our hearts". HELLO. They used to be symmetrical prisms but as soon as Yuta changed his appearance, they decide to create a new shape that looks more similar to their hearts. They are the shapes. 2wink refer to themselves as shapes, they are the triangle

This is where the third side starts making sense too. 2 + 1 = Yuta and Hinata + a third member, "you" (me, they're talking about me, cough)

So knowing this makes much more sense in the way they refer to themselves and helps us understand them better.

Now my point, the new song is called Love×me⇄monsteR and according to my investigation, the ⇄ symbol is used for a lot of things but one of the meanings is exchange. Let's remember that an important part of the lore has to do with them being feared and seen as monsters, so Yuta is swapping that idea. He's swapping the negativity of the monster concept for love.

We're returning to what Twin Peaks tried to tell us. Hinata is (was, remember, development) seen as a division by zero and now Yuta is a multiplication of love times himself, he's GROWING. damn I love acceptance arcs.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly believe they're becoming something more positive given that the new logo is literally 2×2. Happiness for them.

Now as a little note to close the speech, Polyphonic World also talks about colors:

"we can make a new color that will change our hearts" and remember, they're changing their signature colors in this event as a new beginning!

So that's everything! I hope you find this interesting ! It's a little thing that I've been noticing for the longest time and I thought today was the perfect day to get it out.

[justfandomwritings]

I have been devouring your content for the past few days and let me say: your writing is absolutely AMAZING! The way you write Jake is just chefs kiss. Jake and Addie are my new OTP

That said, I have read everything you have written about these two, the fic and all the OTP questions as well. But I have this very specific itch that will not leave me alone which you kind of touched on in one of your asks. What do you think Addie would be like if Jake got into an accident while flying? Nothing major obvs, but maybe a really bad scare?

No Callsigns

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 3.1k (Idk how that happened)

Warnings: whole thing takes place in a hospital, panic attack, character is seriously injured but the injuries are not described in any way, some light angst but with a happy ending

Notes: I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but this little scene has been playing around in my head for a long time. This is Addie reacting to Jake being injured, but it's not really an angst heavy introspective of how it makes her feel. It's more how it would play out.

This is a prequel to The Only Thing, but it can be read without reading the only thing. This story takes place before Jake goes to Top Gun the first time as a student but after he becomes a pilot.... Also Featuring Iceman and Coyote because why not.

“Seresin residence, you’ve got Addie.” Addie tucked the phone between her cheek and her shoulder to free up her hands as she turned back to the sauce bubbling away on the stove.

It was Thursday night. Thursday night meant family dinner in the Seresin household, and the girls, Addie included, took turns rotating who cooked. Normally, it would’ve been Ronnie’s turn, but she was back in Austin studying for an organic chemistry final. Which meant it should’ve been Andy’s turn, only Andy was off in New York at a high school friend’s bachelorette party. Which meant it should’ve been Debbie if not for the fact that Debbie’s sister was in town and demanded the two go to the city for the night.

Kate had offered to order the two of them Chinese food so neither had to cook, but Addie had been perusing the Seresin family recipes again and decided it was time to try her hand at Debbie’s world – or at least county – famous marinara sauce.

Things were shaping up quite nicely before the phone began to ring.

“This is Admiral Tom Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander. I’m calling to speak to Miss Debbie Seresin.”

Addie’s back straightened involuntarily. The wooden spoon in her hand slipped lower in the sauce as her grip on it loosened.

“She’s not in at the moment...” Addie didn’t really know what to say. “Can-Can I take a message?”

There was a quiet sigh on the other end of the phone. So quiet she almost missed it. So quiet she almost missed the melancholy coloring its’ tone. “Unfortunately not. Do you know how long until she’ll be back?”

The man’s voice didn’t turn up at the end the way one normally would to indicate a question. It stayed flat and even, like he didn’t have the energy to raise his voice, or perhaps more likely that the words were too heavy, too weighed down to be lifted up in any way.

“W-What happened to Jake?”

It wasn’t a question she was supposed to ask. Addie knew that. She’d had that talk with Jake before.

If something happened to him, she would have to find out from Debbie. The Navy didn’t exactly recognize ‘besties’ as a category for immediate disclosure. If he got hurt… or worse, the Navy would call his mom until he had a wife or kids.

“Pardon?” The high-ranking admiral on the other end of the line was, no doubt, not used to being questioned.

Addie wasn’t supposed to ask, wasn’t supposed to cause a scene, wasn’t supposed to stick her nose in. Jake had made it very clear that, much as he wanted them to tell her, much as he didn’t want her to find out second hand or have to wait for news, much as he loved her, the Navy would make her wait. She would have to wait, not on him, never on him, but certainly on them.

But Addie couldn’t help it. When Jake told her all those things, told her that if she ever got a call she would have to get ahold of his mom, told her that she shouldn’t barrage whoever called with questions, told her that she would have to get any news after the fact, told her to be on her best behavior if something really bad ever happened and someone important made the call… When he told her that, he’d never been on the receiving end.

He’d never felt his throat close up knowing that best case scenario she was in an ICU bed somewhere. He’d never gone weak in the knees when someone told him they could neither confirm nor deny that she was dead. He’d never spent hours waiting by a phone with the news blasting over loud speakers knowing she was going into a combat zone where she could be killed any second, knowing the six o’clock news might be told before him.

Jake had never gotten a phone call from someone telling him she was dead or dying, and he would never have to worry about getting that phone call, not really. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if their roles were reversed he would be so much worse.

“You’re a Fleet Commander; you wouldn’t be calling un-unless some-something really bad happened to Jake.” She felt out of breath, like she’d run a mile. Maybe it was the way her throat felt like she was breathing through a straw.

“Ma’am I’m not at liberty to discuss that with anyone other than Lieutenant Seresin’s next of kin.”

There was a loud crack followed by the sound of breaking glass. The salad bowl, balanced on the kitchen island behind her toppled to the ground and shattered as she stumbled back.

Next of kin. He was looking for Jake’s next of kin.

Addie gasped for air. “Is he alive?” Her words came out in a pant.

“Ma’am…”

She didn’t hear any more than that as Kate burst into the room.

“Addie, what’s…”

Addie was hyperventilating now. A hand on the island behind her, gripping the granite so hard her nails were cracking under the pressure, was all that kept her from sinking to the ground, unintentionally kneeling in the shattered glass around her.

Her hand pulled the phone away from her ear and waved it blindly in Kate’s direction as she desperately tried to catch her breath, tried to steady her shaking legs, tried to calm herself down.

“Who is this?” Kate’s tone was demanding, accusatory as she snatched the phone away from Addie. There was a brief pause as Kate’s face contorted. She clearly wasn’t getting the answer she wanted, or an answer at all.

“This is his sister, Kate. Now tell me who is calling, and why does Addie look like she’s having a panic attack?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Addie?”

Addie’s head jerked up at the sound of the name.

It was a pilot calling her. She recognized him immediately. One of Jake’s friends, the only Navy friend of Jake’s she’d met so far.

“Coyote, right?”

Coyote nodded and crossed the room in long, sure strides to stand beside her chair. There were seats open all around her, but he didn’t make a move to occupy any of them. He stood, feet shoulder-width apart, hands tucked behind his back. There was no rocking or shifting to his stance like there would’ve been a civilians, no pacing or show of emotions. He was soldier.

“Your Jake’s wingman?” Addie pulled her legs up into the seat with her, hugging them against her chest as she stared up at the man standing over her.

“Yes ma’am,” Coyote wasn’t looking down at her. He was looking straight ahead at some unknown point on the waiting room wall.

“Please don’t call me ma’am. You can call me (Y/n), or Addie, whatever you prefer.” Addie sighed, slumping back in the chair to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am. Jake calls me ma’am when he says I’m being a buzzkill.”

“From the stories Jake tells me, ma’am, that can’t be often.”

Addie’s eyes flashed back from the ceiling, just for a second, to see the corner of Coyote’s lips tugging up. He suppressed it well, but the amusement was still there. “You’re not much of a buzzkill either from what he tells me.”

“I try not to be.”

There was an amicable silence for several long moments. Coyote standing vigilant, staring at the wall behind her head, Addie tracing patterns in the ceiling with her eyes.

It was Coyote who broke it. “Are they… not allowing visitors yet?”

“They let his mom and Kate back about ten minutes before you got here.” Addie quickly corrected. “Two at a time. I let them go first.”

“Would you mind if I came in with you?” Coyote’s tone was constantly polite, deferential. It fit with the military man she knew he was, but she couldn’t reckon it with the stories Jake told her about his friend who seemed like absolute mayhem. “I know you’ll want some time alone with him. I’ll only need a minute. I just need…”

Coyote’s voice fell away, choked on a word Addie wasn’t sure which. It drew her eyes back from the ceiling, tilting her neck down to a more reasonable angle to look at his face.

Coyote’s gaze finally left the wall. It was like watching him pull himself together, draw up the courage to meet her gaze not that that made any sense. “It’ll only take a minute. I need to thank him, ma’am.”

“Thank him? What for?”

Coyote visibly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, but he made no other display of emotion even as he said, “Because, ma’am, I would be dead right now if he weren’t in that bed.”

A dawning realization crossed Addie, her jaw going slightly slack. “The medal… You’re the pilot he...”

“Yes ma’am.”

Addie gave a thoughtful nod. Much as it hurt her, pained her, filled her with overwhelming dread to think of Jake lying cooped up in a hospital bed, Commander what’s-his-name had painted a marvelous tale of heroism for Debbie once she finally returned home, and he told her the story.

And now she had a face and a name to put to the ‘fellow aviator’ whose life Jake had saved. A face she knew, a name she liked, a nice guy with his whole future ahead of him because of Jake’s skill and sacrifice.

“Of course,” Addie choked out, “you’re welcome to come in with me.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Coyote’s head turned back up to face the wall. He was only staring at it, and she was only staring at him, for a minute more before the doors behind him swung open.

“Addie, sweetie,” Debbie crossed the room in a flash of worry seeing yet another Navy uniform standing in front of one of ‘her own’.

“Debbie, this is Coyote,” Addie jumped straight to introductions even before she made it to her feet. “He’s going to come inside with me to see Jake for a minute if that’s alright. He is Jake’s wingman.”

Kate approached behind her mother, sticking out her hand to the aviator, “It’s Javy, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Debbie hugged Addie, ignoring Kate as she seemed ready to vet Coyote before allowing him entrance. “He’s doing a lot better than he looks,” Debbie whispered in Addie’s ear, hiding her voice in the tones of Kate and Coyote’s polite small talk in the background. “Really, the doctors say he’ll be his usual handsome self in no time and back to flying in a couple months. Don’t worry yourself to death, okay sweetie?”

“I’ll try not to.” Addie’s tone was as clipped as she felt.

Debbie pulled out of the hug and jerked her head towards the door. “Get on in there; you look like you’re barely stayin’ in your skin you wanna leave so bad.”

Addie nodded. She clearly wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact that she was ready to bolt.

“They made Jake sign a couple waivers for you,” Kate added before Addie could leave. “But it should all be sorted out now. They all know you’re staying the night and to talk to you.”

“Thanks Kate.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jake,” Addie’s voice broke on his name as she froze in the doorway.

‘He’s doing a lot better than he looks.’

He didn’t look good.

Hospital gown slung low around his neck with wires running down under the fabric, needles poking from IV bags into one arm, head lulled back against a pile of uncomfortable looking pillows, an oxygen mask hanging loose around his neck, and a bag partially filled with what could only be urine connected to a tube that ran up under his thick pile of blankets.

The air was filled with the smell of chemicals and the constant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Addie,” Jake croaked out. His voice was rough, deep and crackling as if he’d been screaming nonstop for days which she knew he hadn’t.

Addie couldn’t help it. She flung herself across the room to his bedside. She’d not said a word about waiting for Debbie to get back from the city to find out what had happened. She’d not said a word while they waited in the airport for the first plane out to the base. She’d not said a word waiting for the taxi to the hospital. She’d even held herself back to let his family see him, knowing she wouldn’t be able to leave once she was in the room.

But now that she was in the room she couldn’t hold herself back. She balanced herself on the free inch of space at the edge of his bed and gave in to the absolute panic and desperation that had been warring quietly inside of her since the moment she managed to swallow them down in his family’s kitchen.

One of her hands reached across his body and clutched his left hand in a vice grip. It was almost the only inch of skin free of any signs of what happened. Her other went straight to his cheek, cupping it in her hand as the tears finally began to fall.  

“When that admiral called I thought for sure you were dead.” She didn’t sob. Her voice was soft, calm, and unwavering even despite the tears. “I was so scared. I broke your mom’s favorite bowl. I couldn’t form a sentence; Kate thought I was in shock.”

Jake sighed and leaned his cheek into her hand. The rough cuts and scratches to the skin there brushed against her palm and reminded her that every part of him would be effected by this in some way. “You’re gonna have to try a little harder if you wanna get rid of me, darlin’.”

Addie smiled through the tears and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss, barely more than a brush of her lips, to his forehead. “Noted, next time I’ll do it myself.”

“I always knew you’d be the death of me.”

Addie chuckled and turned her face into his neck. Her temple brushed against his shoulder, and Jake winced. “Sorry.” She pulled back immediately.

“It’s alright, Addie,” Jake smiled up at her. Even his smile was scarred. His lip split in more than one place along it’s usually silky smooth lines. “Having you here makes up for it.”

“Well in that case, you should know I brought a friend.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Jake tried to laugh but immediately winced at the motion shaking his chest, “I only wanna see you.”

“I know,” Addie conceded easily and without any show of false modesty, “but I think you need to see him too.” Her fingers went to his hair, absently brushing the sweaty, greasy flyaways out of his face as she glanced back over her shoulder.

Coyote stepped in from where he’d been standing in the doorway. Jake’s senses, usually razor sharp, hadn’t so much as gotten a whiff at the other pilot. Whether that was due to his current state or the all-consuming peace that visibly washed over him the moment Addie walked in the room, no one could be sure.

“Hangman, I…”

“You don’t get to call him that here.”

It came out with more bite than Addie meant it to. She hadn’t intended it to have any at all, in fact. She’d only meant to say it matter-of-factly, but the emotions boiling up inside her simply could not be contained when she heard that callsign, that word.

“It’s fine, Addie.”

“No it’s not.” Addie looked to the floor to try to hide the glare that was forming in her eyes, but her words didn’t need an accompanying glare to convey how upset she was. “His name is Jake, and he wouldn’t be here if he hung you out to dry.”

“Addie…” Jake’s tone was placating.

“She’s right,” Coyote cut him off. “I’m sorry… Jake, I came here to thank you not insult you.”

Jake looked up at Coyote, utterly shocked. They were friends, certainly, but no one, not even his friends, had batted an eye when his squadron assigned him his callsign. No one batted an eye using it every day. No one ever questioned if he deserved it.

“You saved my life today, Jake, and I can never repay you for that.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Addie couldn’t lay down with Jake in the hospital bed, much as it would have been both of their preference.

The nurses had spotted her sitting back against the pillows with him in the early evening hours and immediately put a stop to that and any other notions of Addie getting on the bed.

Instead, she’d shuffled the uncomfortable plastic couch in the corner up against the bed in what she was sure was a safety violation but could not have cared less at that moment in time.

The couch was much lower than the bed, but it was close enough that she could curl up and still reach a hand up to hold Jake’s.

“You didn’t have to do that today, Addie.” Jake murmured into the absolute stillness of the night.

The rest of the floor seemed to be asleep, even the beeping of his heart monitor had seemingly faded to a background drone. They were, at that moment, in the silence of the hospital and the darkness of the night, the only two people in the world.

“Yes I did,” Addie countered in a similarly quiet voice.

“Addie, they call me Hangman for a reason.” Jake gently pushed back. “I don’t like to admit it any more than you, but I earned that name. I hang them out to dry in training every day, and if it came down to it in a fight I probably would hang them out then too.”

“You didn’t though,” Addie reminded him quietly. “When the cards were down, you risked your life to save his.”

“And I almost didn’t make it.” Jake didn’t need to remind her of that. The awkward position holding hands through the railing of his bed did a fine job of that. “When I did it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How you met Coyote, how you liked Coyote, how you joked that the two of you would be really good friends one day… and I thought… I thought, ‘I have to go for it.’ For you.”

Addie’s hand tightened her grip on his, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “Well, that’s… morbid.” She propped an elbow on the back of the couch and lifted her head just over the edge of the bed to give Jake a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I’m just only allowed to meet friends you’d be willing to die for.”

[atinylittlepain]

June - Part Four

Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, smut, angst, but also a whole lot of love to be had

..........................................

Rising over the tide

Oh, hold me tight

I'm scared I might fall

Just like the water below

You don't get to know

If your love has all

It's gonna take

"Hearts Aglow" by Weyes Blood

...........................................

“Do you not want me in your room any more?”

“What? No. Why’d you ask that?” A jut of her chin to the sealant in his hands, her eyes glancing at the window behind him.

“Oh. No, June. Just wanted to fix this before it gets any colder out.”

“Hmm.” Chin resting in her palm, her knees tucked up for her elbows to prop on, feet curled over the edge of the mattress. 

“They’re gonna let me take patrol shifts again.” He stills in his work. She’s just tucked a grenade into his palms, he knows it. And he knows she’s waiting to see if there will be an explosion.

“Okay. Do you think that’s a good idea?” Wrong, wrong, wrong. She scoffs.

“Do you?” 

“Can I be frank?” 

“Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why?”

“I just don’t.” 

“Well what would you have me do?” 

“I don’t know. Anything else.” 

“Hmm.” He’s learned that sound can mean a lot of things. But it’s clear to him exactly what it conveys in this instance. I’ve already made up my mind, and I don’t like the way you’ve made up yours. He continues to work, smoothing out the sealant, scraping up, down, up, down. His ears prick to her sigh, the mattress creaking as she stands, the dull thud of socked feet slipping out of the room. His shoulders wilt in her absence. He hadn’t given her the answer she wanted. But he wasn’t about to change his mind either.

It hits him all at once, choking up his lungs with the image of her holding a–

The mouth of it pressed to her–

Her finger curled around the–

But she wouldn’t. Right? That’s in the past. All passed, passed, passed. 

She’s going to stay. With him, with him, with him.

…

If he stares at it long enough, maybe it will open. Like an eye, dropped in a perpetual wink, shut, shut, shut. Teasing him, taunting him with its stillness. If he paces, back, forth, back, forth, maybe she will come home sooner, slip through the gate before the next time he blinks. He blinks. Nothing. 

It’s been like this all day. Restless, waiting from the moment she left. He fixed the wobbly porch step, sanded down the rough catch in the railings upstairs, and resealed every other window in the goddamn house. Bad luck, that it’s his day off, nothing to do but wait. Watching the clock until it’d be at least a little acceptable to go hover around the gate. 

Three steps to the left, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt before turning, three steps to the right, repeat, repeat, repeat. He only lets himself glance back over to the gate after four whole rotations. Still nothing. Repeat, repeat, repeat. 

He hears it before he sees it. The groan of metal churning into motion, opening for a small stream of people to slip inside. The squeeze in his chest tightens, tightens, tightens, until he sees her, one of the last ones to come in. Safe, clean, calm. And then Ellie trails in behind her, unexpected. He hadn’t known that both halves of his heart were out there today, sick with the realization now that it’s tucked back into his chest. And they’re talking. They’re talking and Ellie’s smiling and so is she and he’s not sure if he likes that and he’s not sure why he’s not sure. And then Ellie’s eyes catch on him over her shoulder and June’s head whips around too. Both still smiling like they know something he doesn’t. She turns back around, a hand on Ellie’s arm, clear in its care, and Ellie nods, another glance Joel’s way before she’s off in the other direction. 

It’s still strapped around her chest. Thick leather band, and steel on her back. His hands itch to rip it off her and throw it over the gate, to get it as far away from her as possible. Instead, he clenches his fists at his sides, knuckles popping white. 

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. It was quiet out there.”

“Let’s go home.” He doesn’t take her hand, out of fear he might hold it too tight, too hard.

“Ellie is a good kid.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You did good with her.” He stops chopping, knife suspended in the flesh of a potato.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, that’s– I can’t take credit for her like that.”

“That’s not the way she sees it.” She doesn’t look at him, eyes focused on the pan sizzling softly on the stove. But he knows she’s being careful with what she says, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You and her talked today?”

“We walked the same route.”

“I see.”

“I invited her to dinner.” “You what?” “Dinner on Friday. She’s going to come over.” What had been simmering as sour unease now fizzes and pops into something closer to anger. Still not sure why, all he knows is that his feet are moving and she’s saying his name like a question and he’s already slipping out the front door and down the porch step he fixed that morning. Space, he needs space, distance, to steady this ugly feeling in his throat before it catches and spills over her. 

The bar. Let him get swallowed up by sound and people and a few glasses of something strong. And looking into the amber dregs in his glass, he realizes that what felt like anger had actually been the sharp clench of fear. Fear that he won’t be able to stand it, having his heart hinged back together. It’s been easier, keeping a piece for her, and a piece for the kid. Distant, separate, compartments he can step in and out of. 

He’s willing to try. Frankenstein’s creation, let their hands stitch muscle back together, fine threads that will sting with their snap. For them, he’s willing to try.

But he’s already too late. Always too late. The house is dark, yawning, when he returns a few hours later. And she’s gone. Gone, gone, gone. His mind spins with it, blood rushing in his ears, an aching throb in his throat. 

It’s cold out. Always gets so cold, so quick in the fall and she shouldn’t be out there but she is and it’s his fault, his fault, his fault. The laces of his boots are untied, biting at his ankles and he doesn’t care because he needs to find her now.

Before she gets a–

And slips out of the–

And he’ll never get to–

He walks the path she used to take before, trailing the rim of the wall, a hand perpetually clenched over his chest to still the persistent flares of pain. And he probably looks mad, stumbling around in the dark, eyes wide and sweeping.

She’s hunched, legs splayed out in front of her in the crisping grass, shoulders slumped in on themselves. Unblinking, staring straight ahead at the wall. He says her name like a sigh.

Space, he needs to give her space so she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t flee, sitting down with a few paces breathing in between them. He’d give anything for her to look at him right now.

“I wanted to do something for you.” He’s not sure he heard her right, ducking his head down, trying to catch her eyes that she still refuses to give to him.

“Something good, for you. That’s all. I didn’t mean for this.” Her teeth are chattering, words a dull mumble. He’s never going to forgive himself for the way she’s shivering.

Everything in him slackens when she lets him take her hand, stretched out in the space between them. A broken bird with its own stilted heartbeat, the way he cradles her palm in his.

“Let’s go home, June.” Mercifully, she listens, untangling her hand from his to wordlessly stand. And she’s not wearing a coat, and that’s not right, and he needs to fix it, fix it, fix it, already shrugging his off to swallow her up in what warmth he can provide.

She’s quiet, careful, her eyes caught on her hands in her lap. He can see her out of the corner of his eye from where he’s kneeling in front of the bathtub trying to make the water just right, right, right. His coat is still hanging off of her shoulders. She’s still shivering and he wonders how long she had been out there, working it over in his mind until it hurts.

“Can I?” Hands outstretched, she willingly steps into them, letting him peel away each layer of clothing, revealing skin taut in a close shake. He keeps her hand in his as she steps over the lip of the tub, sinking slowly with a sigh until her shoulders slip under. The shiver starts to smooth.

“I didn’t mean to, Joel.” 

“No, you didn’t. I’m the one who fucked up.”

“You’re mad.”

“Not at you.” Never at you. Words he tries to press into the arch of her knee breaking just above the water, his palm slipping down the slope of her shin and back up, his shirt-sleeve soaked with how sorry he is.

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” 

“I just wanted you to have something good.”

“I know, June. It is good. I wasn’t thinking right.” I’m sorry, so, so, so sorry. He can’t get the words out of his throat, settling for a low hum as she slips deeper down, water flickering against her chin.

“Warming up?” 

“Hmm.” Her eyes have fluttered shut, skin going sticky with the heat. And all he can do is rest his chin on the lip of the tub, slumped down against the side, his hand settled on her shin, constant and calming.

“So dinner?” One eye, then the other, cracking open.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” 

“I am, I am. Thank you, June.”

…

Wings, bright and beating all along his ribs. Something nervous, something good. Both at the same time. It’s getting darker earlier and earlier, the kitchen washed orange and yellow to keep out the purpling night. And they’re both here, both here, sitting at the table with him, eating something warm and rich and talking easy. He didn’t even have to try. It was simple.

“She’s alright, old man.” 

“Yeah, she is.” On the porch, hands shoved deep into pockets. A tentative goodnight.

“How’s Dina?” “She’s good.”

“Good.”

“I’ll bring her next time, if that’s okay.” Next time, next time, next time.

“Of course, kid. I’d like that.” 

“Cool.”

“You taking care of yourself?”

“I am. Are you?”

“I am.”

“That’s good, old man. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, kid. Goodnight.” A quick little thing, her hands still tucked in her coat, hooking her elbow around his back for a halfway embrace. He tries not to smile too much at it. 

It buoys him, light, light, light. Ease, her calves draped over his lap while she reads at the other end of the couch. Thicker socks, finally. 

“Thank you, June.” Faded pages lower, wide eyes and parted lips revealed.

“Ellie likes you.”

“Hmm.”

“She doesn’t like most people.”

“I like her too. She’s a no-bullshit type.” Nothing but fondness, a flower that roots down deep and unfurls up his throat at her words.

“Yeah, she is.”

“She gets it from you.”

“Yeah, she does.” Fingers curl, a tug, only a little greedy, the tendons in her ankle jumping beneath his palm. Slow slippage in the way she slinks over to him, settling down over his thighs, the spine of her book cracked and warped from the way she left it. A wolfish curve to the smile he kisses her with, sharp, seeking, an edge that she’s happy to meet, to run the tip of her tongue along, a flicker of pleasure. 

He has half a mind to reach back, fumble with the faded curtain, shutter the window tight. Just them, just this. The close tangle of muscle, threads unfurling to welcome in heat. Hands that snap and seek under fabric. Always so cold, cold, cold, her fingers making his stomach tense where they slip beneath the band of his jeans. And she’s a sight, slipping down from his lap to kneel between his legs and he’s not going to survive this. The swell of her cheek pressed against his thigh, her smile crumpled to the side and her hand on him suddenly so warm he can feel it rising up his neck. 

She’s not precious about it, purposeful in the pleasure she pulls from him, a shuddering drag when she takes him into her mouth. Her palms splay, nails digging down into the heat of his thighs and all he can do is sigh at the feeling skittering beneath his skin. His, his, his. His woman and her wide, wild eyes, blown out so dark, flickering beneath the wings of her lashes. His woman and the snarl she softens just for him, the quick pink of her tongue hiding the sharp silver of her teeth.

“Come here.” Please, please, please. In the way his hands hook under her arms, insistent, the both of them turning snappy about it, sharp sighs when she finally settles around him, her spine snaring with the stretch. And they move like they always do, arms wrapped close and tight, snaking and seeking skin until they’re both bare, pressed in each other’s heat. 

“Let me see, June.” Murmured into her temple, coaxing her face out from the crook of his neck just in time to see the pull of her brow, the way her lips part around a cry of his name. His, his, his. Fluttering down around him, her arms a gentle cage around his shoulders. They break into a million pieces for each other, again and again and again.

And what’s left is the press and pull of his chest against hers, the way her lips rest against the pulse of life beneath his jaw. Right there.

Beating, beating, beating.

...............................................

taglist (folks who asked and a few folks who i just thought would like to be, lmk if you want added or dropped) : @thetriumphantpanda @suzmagine @casa-boiardi @hollywoodcaligirl @kelp-dreaming @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @tieronecrush @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @darkroastjoel

[redpenship]

Hello, hi, I have covid rn and so eepy but like this idea just came to me. You know how Eggman and other villain often call sonic a rat or other animals than a hedgehog right? What if like, intentionally miss identifying a mobian species is like the equivalent of a slur to them?

I’ve been stuck rotating this in my head for hours, now you get to have it too

Anyway love your stuff bye

Hello, I'm sorry that you're sick! I hope your case of covid isn't too terrible.

(Note: I am ignoring all the Archie Overlander stuff because I haven't read it yet).

Ultimately, I think the answer to this question depends on how entangled a character's identity is with their species. How much does Sonic care about being a hedgehog? Does it impact his decisions? Does he feel that it might impact how people perceive him? Historically speaking, has the misidentification of mobian species led to problems or discrimination? Is there a reason for Sonic to actually care when someone calls him a rat/rodent/other animal?

In the canon world, my inclination is to believe that it isn't something Sonic really cares about. His species is pretty important, since people call him a hedgehog all the time and it's usually one of the first things they notice about him, but there isn't really any bias displayed against hedgehogs (whether positive or negative) whenever someone comments on his appearance. The same goes for all the other mobian characters. So, I generally don't think he has reason to take offence when someone calls him a rat or rodent.

That doesn't mean Sonic never cares. Although the cartoon's standing in canon is questionable, Sonic does get annoyed in Sonic Prime when the Chaos Council refuses to identify him as a hedgehog for the duration of his capture. Now, there are two significant pieces of context there: 1) he's their prisoner in the moment and subject to immediate power imbalance, and 2) this particular dimension is one in which five humans rule over and oppress their animal/Mobian subjects. There are no other humans to compare the conditions of Mobians to, so whether or not the Chaos Council treats the Mobians like that because they're Mobians is kind of up in the air. You can take the fact that everyone wears clothes as evidence for their oppression being species-specific, and I think the way they treated both Nine and Sonic while they were captured also provides support for the species-specific take on everything. So, in this case, Sonic may have been flustered by the consistent misidentification of his species because it reflected unequal conditions seen in the world.

A similar instance I remember is Sonic's reaction when Chris offers him cat food in Sonic X--he gets kind of pissed and almost leaves. He may have just been upset that someone was offering him what is clearly pet food, but I'll take it as an example of Sonic being offended anyways. (Sonic X isn't canon either, but shows and movies outside of canon do allow writers to explore the characters in ways they can't in the games/comics, so I like citing them as fun hypotheticals sometimes).

Both of these examples might point to a more nuanced answer: Sonic doesn't care when Eggman refuses to call him a hedgehog, but he does care when other humans do it. His difference in attitude can be explained pretty easily: he holds the balance of power in his relationship with Eggman, but not with the other humans in Prime or X (Chris had just saved him from drowning, and he also wasn't allowed to run around as he pleased unless he wanted to be chased by cops again). So, if the context of being called a rodent allows for him to perceive it as dehumanizing, he might actually be bothered by it. It all depends on the power dynamics at play.

In true canon, I don't think there's any reason to believe that humans are prejudiced against Mobians. Eggman's attempts to dehumanize Sonic by comparing him to rats and non-sapient animals probably just make him look kind of goofy, or at the very least the kind of goofy you might associate with witnessing someone being genuinely hateful towards, say, Italian-Americans in 2023. Like, what? That's stupid. You're a weirdo, grandpa.

If you're a "humans are prejudiced against Mobians" truther, then I think there's a pretty high chance that Sonic would be offended by this kind of name-calling. This is especially true if there's any historical basis for humans deliberately associating mobians with "animals" as a way to flex power, alleged higher intelligence, or the supremacy of sophisticated human civilization.

My personal take on canon disagrees, but that's because I'm not the biggest fan of explicit fantasy racism and kind of go out of my way to downplay it even in fics where there are human-mobian tensions. I actually had a lot of fun playing with tropes in Buzzsaw Dilemma by having Mobians associate themselves with animals, or by refusing to have any of the human characters Tails interacts with do or say anything genuinely discriminatory. Not that this really matters in regards to the question at hand.

So, to summarize, I think the answer to your question depends on your interpretation of canon! If you think humans hold some kind of power over Mobians, then sure, Sonic would probably dislike being called a rat or rodent. If you don't, then I don't think he would really care that much.

[milkytheholy1]

There's no reason to be sad

A/N: Have a load of trash, think of it as a sequel of sorts to Starlit Night. It can also stand as its own thing, there's no real connection between the two and its mainly just me rambling. Enjoy!

Tech x GNReader

----------------------------------------------------------

The air was cold against your skin, nothing that sent your body into shivers, but cool enough to chill your heated thoughts. The luscious grass beneath your feet almost tickled, it swayed with such elegance, practically begging you to take a seat. 

And so you did.

Touching the green blades with the tips of your fingers, skimming the blanket of the natural world with the palm of your hand. The night sky towered above you, stars and far-away galaxies twinkling in a synchronised dance. You've spent most of your lifetime in the stars, and yet you never grew tired of looking at them. The sounds of the old, tired ship behind you raptured the tranquil silence that once surrounded your form. 

You could faintly hear his paced breaths as he manoeuvered over towards you, taking in the slope of your back to memory. Unlike before, he sat down the moment he got close enough to you. Plated armour brushing up against the bare skin of your arm, hard plastoid lightly scratching soft flesh. 

"Are we doing this again?" his voice was almost a whisper, you could see his eyes trail over you with a swift glance. You ducked your head between your folded knees, a sigh brushing past your lips, "Doing what?"

He didn't seem happy with your response, you could tell by the dip of his goggles and the crease in his brow, "This," he emphasised with his tone. Finally using a finger to shift the goggles further up the bridge of his nose, "I have counted you seeking peace at least six different times in the last 4 rotation periods. Clearly, you are suffering from some form of issue, what is the problem?"

You hid away from his words, no matter how true they were. You whipped your head back up to face the stars, just staring out into nothingness, "I-" you started, words dry on your tongue. Your eyelids closed and crinkled in frustration, "I...I don't know what's wrong with me, Tech. Sometimes I feel sad, sometimes I feel stressed when I know I have nothing to be stressed about and it's just-" you let out a harrowing breath, "It's just too much."

The bespeckled Clone sat silent beside you, allowing you to finish your brave ramblings. He was torn, does he choose to watch you while your heart bled or does he choose to follow your gaze and peer at the night sky?

You turned to look at him, lips quivering and goosebumps raised along your arms, "When I'm out here, looking at the stars, it helps me forget. I can't be stressed or sad when I'm looking at the stars." you turned back to gaze at the picturesque scenes above you, "Stars can't be sad."

Tech coughed awkwardly into his fist, "Technically speaking, stars cannot feel emotions. They are masses of gas and-" he cut himself short, seeing your broken expression was far more important than the facts and lifespan of a star. Sitting a little straighter, Tech offered you a consoling look, "I may not be the best at these types of situations, I believe as Wrecker once put it I am 'As emotionless as a droid' but I do acknowledge some comfort may help you."

He offered his arms out to you, embracing the thought of you being tucked into his chest. You shifted in your place, dragging your limbs closer to his warmth while you nestled your face against his neck. The crook of your nose rubbed against his adam's apple, while his fingers danced along your shoulder blades.

"I don't think you're as emotionless as a droid," you whispered, sleep clawing at your feet. Tech let out a small chuckle, clutching you closer, "Thank you, my dear."

This wasn't the first time Tech had comforted you, but it had been a long time since the last occurrence. You were sat on a hill similar to this one, the tree branches swung in the gentle breeze, the birds sang and the night sky was still just as beautiful. Back then you weren't sad or stressed, you had Tech by your side and your crew behind you. 

Perhaps because it was the night when Tech had first kissed you, confessed his want for you. Ever since you had been going steady, you had nothing to be sad about; and yet there was this deep, dark feeling inside of you that you just couldn't shake.

Tech's arms brought you back to the present, the hardness of his armour dug into your sides; but you didn't care at this point. You were too absorbed in the sights, the sounds, the smell that was Tech. 

"Is this helping? I read on the holonet that physical comfort can help those who are feeling less than adequate with themselves." 

You slid a dainty hand up towards his cheek, tapping your fingers lovingly against the roughness of his skin. You could feel his head lean into the motion, an unconscious action that sent your skin alight. You could feel a warmth spread from your fingertips, you could hear the sound of his lips pulling away, feel the love he passed through to you from such a small action.

"This is helping," you muttered, eyes blinking shut, "Thank you, Tech." your breathless whisper caught him off guard. Ever so gently he looked down at you, short breaths puffed out of your lips, eyelashes dusting your cheeks, you were better than any stars he had ever seen. He knew he had to pick you up and carry you back to the ship, but that could wait. Tech wanted to sit and enjoy the vast galaxy above him, for once he wanted to see what the world had to offer and not something on his holopad.

But deep down he knew he was being selfish, he just wanted to spend more time with you. In the quietness of the hill you both sat on top of, with the hum of the Marauder in the background and the footfalls of those who inhabited it. Resting his head gently against your own, Tech released his own sigh.

"You are welcome, my love."

[muzzleroars]

Me remembering a random russian proverb and going like "oh. that reminds me of gabe actually"

The proverb in question is "Перед смертью не надышишься" (Pered smert'yu ne nadyshish'sya), literally "Can’t breath enough before death"

It can mean:

"Putting it off won't make it any easier"

"At the last moment, you can not manage to do what you had to do beforehand"

"You can't make up for lost time"

"It's too late for that now"

And it's also sometimes interpreted as like,, "well it's too late for that now, so no point in trying anyway"

And this made me think of AUs/HCs where Gabe actually Dies™️ (and I've pretty much accepted that it's the most likely thing to happen in canon too. who knows for sure tho, maybe not)

Like. He has so much stuff to do, so many topics to think of, so many emotions to go through (esp if he has Feelings™️ for V1, or anyone else for that matter), but whelp! too late for that loverboy!

And him either desperately trying to do at least something with the little time he has left, OR just. Giving up. Shutting down and waiting for everything to end

And about the "putting it off" part, makes me think that Gabriel must've had at least some trauma/issues related to the Council (about the time when they took the light from him, if nothing else), so it could've been hard for him to go back here, and actually deal with it, face it head on, but he did it anyway because it's not gonna get any easier if he waits

me rotating gabe in my head like in a microwave rn

as much as i obviously enjoy exploring gabriel as a fallen angel, i 100% agree that he's going to die in canon as ultrakill sees the world at the end of its lifespan and that goes for just about everything in it. and on a character level for gabriel, i think it makes sense for the exact reasons this proverb brings up: gabriel has had an end of life epiphany and, like everything else, it is too late now. his world has crashed down around him in his death throes, and all he can do is what is most important in the precious few hours he has left while the rest, all of the personal trauma he must harbor, will now remain forever untouched. but we've already seen whatever gabriel will do with that time remaining will be worthy of it.

the majority of the day he has left has likely already been spent, but he has used it fully to contemplate his long existence and then hearken to newfound autonomy - after which, he swiftly dispatches the entirety of the council to liberate heaven from their rule (the way he chooses to slay the final councilor has interesting parallels now to his execution of sisyphus, and i'm sure that figures into gabriel wishing to right wrongs he can't take back). we know after this he will depart forever from heaven, and his only destination can be hell to meet once again with v1 as he promised. gabriel has so much he could do, so much it could be argued he needs to do, but with his death impending and the very world around him crumbling with it, there is actually very little left for him to do realistically. gabriel is leaving a life full of regret that he will never remotely understand because he has no time for it, but he's ensuring that whatever can be tangibly, immediately addressed is. his life will never be put into context for him, but his death will be.

because gabriel leaves behind a cruel, bloody life that he once thought to be one of supreme order but is, instead, a mess. his time spent serving god had wronged so many, it had likely constantly gone against his own internal morals (that he no doubt punished himself over and over for, torturing himself over sins he now understands were compassion) - yet those feelings don't matter because ultimately he upheld god's will, he carried his banner of violence against humanity, and now there is no one to confront or repay with god and humans all dead. and under the rule of the council, he became a dog he must be disgusted with - they were not god, they never held that ultimate authority that at least he may have been able to shift the blame onto somewhat. they were angels just like him, perhaps higher in rank but not his ruler and certainly not his maker, yet he conformed to their every order, he furthered their political gains again at the expense of his morals. secretly he cared for those in limbo. secretly he cared for the ferrymen. secretly, perhaps, he was some kind of friend to hell. but then the council came and he obeyed them as unconditionally as he had god, reining terror on the citizens of hell and becoming their blight after ripping minos's crown from him as judge of hell. these are the festering regrets he will never account for, will never make reparations for - they are all dead, and he is dying.

so what can gabriel do except address his death and what brought him to it - a poor substitute for making sense of an entire life now left undone, but he seems to working within what he has instead of giving into panic or despair. and all he has left, all he has time for and all he knows he can manage in the hours remaining, is going to see v1 one last time. i'm sure with this, gabriel has a definite goal in mind: i think foremost is fully immersing himself in his feelings for v1 and just what this machine did for him. ultrakill, despite all appearances, is a love story in many ways, and i strongly believe gabriel's feelings toward v1 will be woven into that theme. he wants to feel his love as fully himself and now that he has realized it, to wrap himself in it after the revelation has occurred and allow it to flow through him with acceptance. it happens through a fight, of course, but what i don't know is what gabriel's ultimate goal for that fight will be - does he want his last act to be stopping v1, to have them die together in a sense, or does he desire to be killed by v1 rather than letting that loss of light take him? maybe gabriel would be content with either, but i think of him as a character with now well-defined ideas of what he wants, so i believe he's more likely to want something concrete.