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#I hope I offered everyone some fun posts and up to date information on the musical as the (official) unofficial source for everything CATS
white-cat-of-doom · 1 year
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I posted 2,327 times in 2022
827 posts created (36%)
1,500 posts reblogged (64%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@the-cat-at-the-theatre-door
@munku-collar
@white-cat-of-doom
@sillybub
@cassandra-has-moonlit-eyes
I tagged 2,321 of my posts in 2022
#cats the musical - 2,288 posts
#cats musical - 2,287 posts
#cats us tour 6 - 356 posts
#jellylorum - 262 posts
#victoria - 260 posts
#demeter - 253 posts
#bombalurina - 247 posts
#cats rccl cast 12 - 244 posts
#cats uk tour 2022 - 232 posts
#cats international tour 2022 - 230 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#part of me wants to change my avatar to one of these pieces but i cannot bring myself to take away the 2019 rumple i have had for two years
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Today is the day! The Il Sistina production of CATS opens tonight (07 December 2022) in Rome!
Below are some more specific character photos, outside of larger group photos.
Jacopo Pelliccia as Gatto Giò (Bustopher Jones, a separate character in this production).
Photos taken by Gianluca Sarago.
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Gaia Soprano as Cassandra.
See the full post
133 notes - Posted December 7, 2022
#4
Everyone generally knows what the Rumpus Cat looks like in traditional productions, right? A bit silly, with funky hair and red eyes.
Meanwhile in Japan, the modern Rumpus Cat looks like this:
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The hero we never knew we needed.
(Fukuoka 2021, January 2022; Kenshin Mori as Rumpus Cat, Miki Okudaira as Jellylorum, Eiko Kataoka as Rumpleteazer, Yuki Takahashi as Old Deuteronomy, Taijun Kanemoto as Munkustrap, and Yurie Sato as Bombalurina. Almost fully hidden is Haruaki Tamai as Mungojerrie.)
141 notes - Posted February 21, 2022
#3
Rehearsals have started for the production of CATS at Teatro Sistina in Italy, starting 07 December 2022, an officially licensed non-replica from RUG.
The designs are interesting in that they have reference sheets for both the makeup and costume.
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See the full post
149 notes - Posted November 9, 2022
#2
The promotional pictures for the UK/International Tour 2022 have been posted!
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See the full post
181 notes - Posted May 31, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
I never uploaded these pictures last year, so I figured now would be a fun time to celebrate Pride Month again. Who better than with my favourite cast of Cats in Vienna?
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See the full post
192 notes - Posted June 1, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#It has been a good year for me and CATS#I luckily got to see the last cast three times and the current cast (only) once#An interesting breakdown here#I would have thought I created more posts but 36% is much higher than the 3% last year!#Plus I reblogged from myself a fair amount which lessens those numbers compared to making a new post altogether#Jellylorum being the top character tag is actually a bit surprising to me#But good for me for pulling that off#Poor Jenny was in enough posts#I had completely forgotten about that top post but that is fun to see#Aside from myself being in the top 5 (I would not thought I counted towards that) the reblogged blogs the list is not surprising at all#And that longest tag! It did not take long after for me to overhaul (as much as you can overhaul on mobile) my appearance to change my icon#To one of the beautiful art pieces of my OC Freya that Jemi created and I would not have it any other way now#Thank you again Jemi for creating those#You are too kind and immensely talented and that is why you were obviously going to be my most reblogged blog#Apologies to anyone who gets tagged and would rather not for a post like this#I guess the main point to all of this is to say thank you to everyone who interacts with this blog and to anyone who makes content#Enjoy your passions and interests and maybe someone else will love it alongside you but at the very least you are making it for yourself#Let me see if I can overtake my reblogged posts with my created posts next year#I think I am well on my way#I hope I offered everyone some fun posts and up to date information on the musical as the (official) unofficial source for everything CATS#(that last one is more a joke but at this point how much of one is the question?)#Rambling over#Thanks for everything everyone#Who knows maybe I will actually have something important to say next year
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kittenofdoomage · 3 months
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Midnight
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Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year.
Pairing: female!reader (Y/N) x unnamed male
Word Count: 3610
Warnings: angst, mentions of break ups of long term relationships, anxiety, fluff, masked dances, semi-public smut, some mild breaking and entering, fingering, full vaginal sex, some mild feelings of unhappiness
A/N: This is another one of those "pick your character" fics that I can't really post on Ao3, so I'm posting here to wish you all a very happy new year. I hope everyone has a peaceful and blessed 2024, and that the fall of the patriarchy/death of capitalism finally comes to fruition. Enjoy!
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Originally, her plan for New Year’s Eve had involved a family-size bag of Doritos and whatever movies she could find on Netflix. She had no work for the next week, no boyfriend since Andrew had dumped her in the summer, and when Dee had surprised her with a ticket to the annual city New Year’s Masquerade Ball, she had ultimately failed to provide an excuse good enough to turn it down. 
“All of us are going,” Dee had informed her excitedly, making sure Y/N had no wiggle room. “I’ll help you find a dress, we’ve got a huge car booked -”
“Okay, okay,” Y/N smiled, internally dying at the thought of an evening around strangers, even ones in masks. “I’m in.”
Maybe it would do her some good. Since the end of her relationship, she’d been unable to summon enthusiasm for anything, and she had to admit, shopping for a dress and giggling over imagined possible events at the ball with her friends was more fun than she had had in a while. She hadn’t realized just how stale her life had become, even before Andrew broke up with her.
The downside to the evening presented itself with the understanding that she would very much be the proverbial fifth wheel. Dee and Jenny both had dates for the night in the form of their long term partners, David and Leanne, respectively. Still, they assured her that they wouldn’t ignore her in favor of their company - Leanne had even offered up a blind date, but Y/N quickly turned her down, politely, because although she didn’t want to seem ungrateful, she didn’t think it would make her evening any more enjoyable. It would probably have had the opposite effect.
New Year’s Eve rolled around faster than she wanted it to, despite her excitement for the party. She started preparing ridiculously early, and by the time her cab arrived to take her to Dee’s, she was trembling with nerves. Her friends didn’t make it any better when she got there, chatting excitedly, making her feel like she’d be wallpaper the entire night. Still, she smiled and nodded along, following quietly when the car arrived to take them to the hotel downtown.
The Masquerade Ball was held in the same place every year. It wasn’t exclusive, but it was limited, another reason Y/N had been reluctant to turn down the ticket. They arrived in plenty of time to join the queue, and the chilly evening had her wishing she’d brought more than her light jacket. She shuddered in silence, keeping up with Dee as they shuffled closer to their destination, feeling more and more underdressed in her simple unembellished evening gown as she took in the stunning dresses and tuxedos everyone else was wearing. Of course, she couldn’t see anyone's faces, which made it marginally better, but she still felt underwhelming in comparison.
They made it inside within thirty minutes, accepting direction to their table in the grand ballroom several floors up. It was busy, and loud, and the dancefloor was already bustling with bodies grinding together to the late nineties pop tune that was currently playing. The ticket had stated a mixture of classical and popular music, with opportunities for “proper” dancing. Around the room there were several booths, the capitalist side of the event, and as the group seated themselves at the table, Jenny grabbed Y/N’s hand and pointed toward one booth at the back of the room.
“Look, they’re doing the Dance Card stall this year!”
Y/N scrunched up her face. “What’s that?”
“It’s like a game, people can sign up and get matched with a dance partner for a song. You can do it as many times as you like.”
“So it’s like Speed Dating?” Leanne asked, pulling a similar face to Y/N.
“I don’t think so,” Y/N giggled, shaking her head at the thought of getting up close and personal with a stranger. “I just wanna enjoy the party.”
Dee leaned into her, smiling. “I’ll dance with you, baby girl, don’t worry.”
The ballroom was filling quickly, and for the first part of the evening, Y/N stayed with the group, chatting over the music and drinking. Occasionally, Leanne would drag Jenny off to dance, or Dee would make David, but they never left her alone, something she was grateful for. She shared a dance with Dee, but quickly found the crowd overwhelming, so she remained at the table while the others took turns in dancing.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna try the dance card thing?” Jenny asked, leaning in as Dee pulled her boyfriend from the table. “Just once?”
Y/N looked over at the booth again, ready to deny it, then her gaze caught on one figure that seemed to stand out from the crowd. He was standing off to the side of the booth, leaning against the wall, a full glass in one hand with the other in his pocket, and she was certain he was looking right back at her. There was something familiar about him, not that there was anything extraordinary that would have made him stand out in the first place. The tuxedo he wore was the same as a dozen others she’d seen, and he was wearing the standard mask they were handing out on the door for those who forgot or didn’t have one.
“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” Jenny giggled, touching her forearm and bringing her attention back to the table. When she looked over at the booth again, the man was gone, and disappointment settled into her stomach.
“I’m not,” she assured her friend. “I thought - nevermind.”
Her mind was already wandering as Leanne distracted her girlfriend from badgering her. It couldn’t have been him, even if her gut was telling her it was. He wouldn’t be in the city, let alone at the same party she was at, it was impossible. The one that got away had gone away permanently, a long time before Andrew was even a blip on her radar, and it was just wistful thinking making some random stranger look like him.
Dee returned, breathless from her dance, though David didn’t return with her. “He’s getting more drinks,” she explained as Jenny asked where he went. The two other women took their turn to go and dance, and Y/N drew back into herself a little, realizing they were spending their time keeping her company when they should have been enjoying themselves.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, looking at Dee, who blinked in confusion.
“For what?”
“You’re -” Y/N gestured wildly. “Looking after me, like usual. I’m a buzzkill.”
Her friend laughed. “Honey, do I look like my buzz has been killed? I can’t dance to every single song anyways, I’m not seventeen anymore.”
“You’re sure?”
Sighing, Dee leaned in, covering Y/N’s hand with her own. “You need this,” she insisted. “Since Douchebag McDouche left you - yahoo, by the way - you’ve been in a slump. And I hate seeing you miserable.”
“I know,” Y/N mumbled, sagging in her seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so… boring.”
“You’re not boring,” Dee replied, squeezing your hand. “You just need to rediscover yourself a little.” She picked up her almost empty drink, draining the last of it. “You could always try the dance card thing. Maybe you’ll find someone to kiss at midnight. Even if it’s just for midnight.”
The idea was less than appealing but Y/N looked in that direction anyway, just in case the mystery man was there again. When he wasn’t, and she sighed, Dee frowned.
“Not up for it?”
“It’s not that,” Y/N murmured, wary of their companions returning. “Do you remember after college, there was that guy -”
“I got fresh drinks for everyone!” David announced, arriving back at the table with a tray in his hands. Instantly, Y/N fell silent, and Dee quickly realized she wouldn’t be getting anything more out of her. “Another rum, Y/N?” David asked, handing her a drink regardless of her answer.
She got to her feet with a forced smile. “Actually, I’m going to find the ladies room,” she informed both of them, stepping away and waving off Dee’s almost immediate offer to join her. The crowd wasn’t as dense as it looked, and she easily found her way to the lobby, following the posted signs for the restrooms. There was a queue that she quickly joined, pulling her phone from her purse, scrolling through her Twitter feed to pass the time.
Someone across the lobby yelled, which made everyone look that way to see a gentleman being forcefully exited by security. Y/N watched along with them, and as the scene died down, she went to turn her attention back to her phone, only to see him again. This time he was at the other side of the lobby, standing with a group of people, and when he caught her eye, he smiled, raising his drink a little in her direction. She froze in surprise, staring back, and it took the woman behind her in the queue jostling her to get her to look away.
He was gone again when she glanced back, but the queue was moving too quickly for her to do anything. Her heart was in her throat as she rushed to be done in the restroom, scanning the crowd the second that she was out in the lobby again, finding the group he was with gone and him with them. It was stupid how disappointed she was, when she wasn’t even sure if it was who she thought it was or even if it was the same person.
For all she knew, she was going crazy.
“Idiot,” she muttered to herself, heading back into the ballroom to find the table again. None of her friends were there, all busy on the dancefloor, and her stomach dropped, anxiety rushing in at her. “What am I doing?” she whispered, certain she was going to cry.
“You look a little lost,” said a man from behind her, in a voice she recognized even after all this time.
“Yes, well,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the dancefloor in case she was imagining him. “These things are more for couples, aren’t they?”
He laughed, and her insides churned with a need to see his face, to make sure it was really him, because she felt like it was a dream. She still remembered the last time she’d seen him, just the back of his head as he left, taking her whole heart with him even if he didn’t know it. “I suppose so,” he agreed, and a hand brushed the small of her back, making her inhale sharply. “Would you like to dance?”
Why was he here? How? What was happening?
She nodded, holding her questions in as he took her hand to lead her to the dancefloor, just as a slower classical number came on. Finally, she turned her head, disappointed that the mask covered his face, but recognizing his features underneath. Her heart soared, nerves gathering as butterflies in her stomach, and she couldn’t help but smile through her mask at him. He smiled back, pulling her closer as they reached a spot with enough room not to feel cramped.
Neither of them spoke. Her desire to know where he had been, why he was there, was held at bay by the simple comfort of just being in his arms. He was still fond of the same aftershave by the scent clinging to his clothes, and his hair was slightly different, but otherwise he was exactly as she remembered, and she couldn’t help leaning in to rest her cheek against his shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. Across the dancefloor, she met Dee’s confused gaze from where she was dancing with David, recognizable by her hair, and Y/N smiled at her so she knew everything was okay.
“You look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you,” he murmured, making her lift her head to look at him. “Can’t believe it’s been so long.”
“How can you tell that I look the same?” she asked playfully. “I’m wearing a mask.”
He chuckled. “I just know,” he shrugged, smirking at her.
“You’re still just as big,” she said shyly. “Your hair is different.” The music picked up speed a little, transitioning to a faster beat, and Y/N frowned as couples around them started to get a little showy with their movements. “I don’t think I like this song,” she joked.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he agreed, stepping back and taking her hand again.
As they moved through the crowd, they passed Dee, who stared at the man with her in shock, recognizing him, and mouthing a “is that who I think it is” while pointing at him. Y/N nodded, not stopping to explain as he led her into the lobby and towards a fire exit. “Wait,” she hissed, “where are we going? It’s gonna be midnight soon.”
He glanced back with a grin. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “No one’s up there.”
The there he was referring to escaped her, but she had always trusted him, and she had no reason not to now. With a nod, she followed him through the fire exit, into the stairwell and away from the noise. He started to climb the steps, looking back to make sure she was with him, and on the next floor, they entered a larger, empty room that was only lit by a few lamps.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“A lounge,” he replied. “There’s a balcony we can watch the fireworks from.”
“Won’t someone catch us?”
His eyes sparkled behind the mask. “Only if we’re not quiet.”
The balcony was separated from the room by large doors that weren’t locked. Y/N followed him out into the night, feeling her breath get snatched away by the view of the city. There was a balcony on the ballroom floor too, and she could hear the music below and the chattering of people on the balcony. She pulled away from him to approach the stone ledge, unsure she’d ever seen anywhere look so pretty.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
He was behind her, one hand on her hip as he pressed into her, burying his nose in her hair. “Isn’t it?” he mumbled, though she wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.
“You’re really here,” she turned to look up at him, “after all these years, you came back.”
“It would have been sooner. But… things happened. And when I came back to see you, you always seemed happy with someone. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”
Guilt made her insides churn because she hadn’t been, not really. Enough to fool herself, enough to hurt herself, maybe, but she’d always known what had slipped through her fingers. “And now? How did you know I’d be here?”
His cheeks darkened. “Dee posted a picture of you guys getting ready,” he explained, a little sheepishly. “I pulled some strings. This is not actually my tux.”
“You know,” she whispered, “I had a pretty crappy year.”
“Me too.”
Lifting a hand, she pressed it to his cheek. He leaned into it, covering her hand with his own. “I never thought I’d see you again. This feels like a dream.”
“It’s not,” he replied softly. “Lemme prove it.”
She wasn’t quite expecting him to kiss her but after the split second of shock, she melted into it, wrapping her arms around his neck as his tongue slipped between her lips. The action made her moan, and he groaned in reply, clutching at her like she might disappear. When they broke apart, she felt almost high, unable to stop herself from smiling.
“We never had a chance to do that before,” she gasped breathlessly. His fingers were digging into her hips, pulling her body flush with his, and she could feel his erection through the fabric of his pants. Her body reacted with a rush of warmth between her thighs, and before she could stop herself, a lustful whine tore itself from her lips.
His gaze grew hungrier. “There’s a lot of things we never had a chance to do,” he practically growled, voice so low that she shuddered in his hold.
“There’s no one here,” she said abruptly, surprised at her own words.
Her dress was already bunching in his hands as he tugged it up. “Tell me to stop,” he grunted as he pulled the fabric higher, pressing his mouth to hers in a desperate, quick kiss. “Tell me to stop and I can wait, I promise -”
She stopped him with a deeper kiss, rubbing her hand against the bulge in his pants. “I can’t,” she whimpered.
He turned her, pulling her back against him. “You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, pulling her dress up again until it was bunched over her ass, pinning it there with his body. Sliding a hand underneath the fabric still covering her front, he rubbed his fingertips over her mound, pressing his lips to her throat. “Are you wet?”
Her answer wouldn’t come out as she struggled to process what was happening. He chuckled, working his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties, finding the answer himself when he stroked her slit. She moaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder, rubbing herself into his erection.
Two thick fingers spread her open, sinking into her with ease, and she yelped, lurching forward. The roar of the party below became clearer as she caught herself on the balcony edge. “Someone could hear,” she panted, unable to stop her hips from rocking into the same rhythm as his fingers. “They’re right below us -”
“Guess you’ll have to try and be quiet,” he replied with a low chuckle. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”
She nodded, gasping as the heel of his palm ground into her clit, thick fingers still thrusting inside her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and a breathy groan made her shudder and push back against him. The consistent stimulation was making her head swim; her eyes fluttered shut and her hands tightened on the stone balcony.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked. She whimpered, nodding when she couldn’t make herself speak, and he laughed again, working his fingers a little harder until the tremble that had started in her knees seized her whole body. Her cunt clenched around the intrusion, the sound of her wetness reaching her over the party noises below them, and finally, she cried out once, covering her own mouth as she shuddered around him.
His hand withdrew, leaving her bereft. She gulped down air in her brief reprieve, then inhaled sharply as his hot and heavy cock landed against her exposed bottom. He didn’t wait, thumbing the tip down until it slotted between her thighs, rubbing right against her sensitive labia. The hunger for more returned, and she tilted her hips, allowing his thick head to find its target, and she arched as each inch filled her until she could feel the soft fabric of his pants pressed against her ass. Only when he was fully sheathed did he stop, dropping his lips to the bare curve of her shoulder with a tiny, contented sigh.
“Only ever dreamed of this,” he whispered, grinding deep inside her. “Feeling you wrapped around me -” He sighed again, the same happy little noise. “Fuck -”
She whimpered his name when he pulled back to sink home again with his hands grasping her hips tightly. His height forced her to lift slightly, but he quickly bent his knees, enabling him to drive into her a little harder, forcing a squeak from her lips when he bottomed out again.
“Listen,” he grunted, leaning in close, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Below them, the crowd was chanting, and it sounded like the whole city was too. Her lover started to count with them, slamming into her hard enough to punch the air from her lungs with every number. “Seven, six, five -”
Her pussy clenched around him, and as the countdown drew to an end, she cried out, letting the sound be drowned out by the sudden burst of fireworks that lit up the night sky. She pushed back into him as she came, and his pace quickened, his own climax filling her hot and thick as the party music struck up again from the floor below.
A pleasurable buzz left her dizzy and she clutched the balcony, letting her blurry gaze linger on the city underneath. The sensation of his withdrawal made her hum happily, and when he pulled her to her feet, she stumbled right into his arms and his kiss. His lips left her dizzier than before, and she gave him a dopey smile as he chuckled and cupped her cheek.
“Happy New Year.”
She leaned into his touch. “Happy New Year.”
“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” he murmured.
“Let them wonder,” she replied, almost drunk on him, clinging to the front of his tuxedo. “What now?”
He inhaled deeply, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, I was hoping to take you home,” he said quietly, lips twitching with a smile.
“And tomorrow?” she asked, daring to hope.
His smile became a grin. “I waited so long for this, you think I’m gonna give it up now?”
Her heart pounded as she smiled back up at him. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”
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Psst, if you wanna tell me who you were imagining, send an ask or reblog 😘
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zhongrin · 6 months
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ー and that's a wrap!!!
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note: this is a thank-you post and i’ll be posting an ‘explanation’ post after this, just give me some time to compile all the information <3
so. obviously i just have to do this because man. that was a whole ride hahahah thank you so so so so so SO MUCH to people who participated actively in the ebg???? i am????? not worthy??????? lsjdkfjskldf
special mentions to: (ps. please check them out; these are all wonderful, talented writers. be sure to read their rules first, though!!!)
@kurikurikurisu / @risustravelogue thank you for putting up with my insanity throughout this event…. and for being the first to bring in their hubby to sneak around the teahouse! lol smart move!! i’m guessing you’ll bring your other hubby next time for the fun of it and i am. looking forward to it already hahahah also that morse code → vigenere cipher will haunt my nightmares now thanks- /silly
@crystalflygeo you precious precious gem. i am still wheezing at that meme you sent me. here’s to hoping the next time crys visits the teahouse it doesn’t smell like sea salt and frost anymore heh ;)) also fontaine tea time double date when? <3
@floraldresvi thank you for being the source of romance this ebg lol tartarin is a sinking ship so everyone better hop in to covivi!! all jokes aside, i love writing your interactions with coviello so much (and based on the comments everyone else seems to enjoy it too hahahah) i 🚢!!!!!
@silentmoths MOTH!!! YOUR WINGS 😭 will drinking tea make it grow back??? i offer the finest silk for you to munch on after this hsdlfjskdf anyway, be it the last ebg or this one, i love seeing the little moth flying about in the teahouse hehe <3
@ainescribe / @lychniis i hate (read: love) you. why did you have to bring back the nightmarish cipher into this smh /j anyway…. another event to be recorded in the record keeper’s books, eh? i hope you enjoyed this ebg too <3
@queen-belial you madlad /pos. the way you write ousldjflshdjflksd i feel a little bad i can only respond with small snippets because man. those are. yummy yummy meals you were dishing out there!!! capitano is coming for childe’s ass atp that ginger better watch out lmaoooo
@abyssmal-skies tysm for granting me the opportunities to up the creepy factor lol i’m glad you managed to piece together what happened!! looking forward if you ever decide on joining an ebg next time :3
@the-travelling-witch HOLLYYYYYY. thank you for letting me 'borrow' your husband and allowing me to make him a little... uhh... #deranged lol. honestly you’re one of the reasons why i went “ok so…. only my blog needs to simp for childe. i don’t…. time to make someone else ‘run’ the blog…. >:)” because for lord’s sake i am very much not attracted to him and i just. can’t. do. it. #chilly4ever #chillyno1
@leftdestiny-posts / @intothegenshinworld that letter almost took me out ngl i am. i am still crying and sobbing over it hsldfjskldjflksdf PLEASE. also shiro protection squad &lt;;3 *silently wipes bloodied hand on a tea towel*
@kopidense / @ask-court-genshin heyyyy fellow murder accomplice (for legal reasons, disclaimer: this does not involve any real human bodies whatsoever) 🙌🏻 thanks for dropping by!! also pls tell your two friends i said hi winkwink #truezhonglimainsstickstogether /silly
@navxry actually yk what no. no thanks for you, you gremlin /silly but thanks for the trauma i guess- /j
@i23kazu YING!!! thank you so so so so much for hosting this ebg! it has been super fun and i (and i’m sure everyone else thinks the same) really appreciate your effort in putting things together!!
and of course all of the other people who sent in asks, be in anon or non-anon, be it a silly ask or a sabotage attempt or a rp attempt — please know that i really really really appreciate each and every single one of you!!!
your participation means a lot and it’s the literal driving force behind my passion in constantly drawing and writing stuff whenever i have time these past 7 days. i haven’t written or drawn any content whatsoever in weeks. do you see the power you hold over us writers by sending in fics & silly stuff now?? i hope you do.
also, even if you didn’t participate at all, i appreciate you for still sticking with me despite having to deal with my silliness for past week 😌
sending you all my kithes /p and hugs and a cup of your preferred tea! <3
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maleyanderecafe · 2 years
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hey! hope you had a fun trip :D not sure if i can call this a recommendation, as ive never played the game, but there's a pretty obscure yandere otome game named 'Lunatic Honey ~Sekai de Ichiban Kimi ga Suki~'. Someone did write about it over on deviantart, so its not completely lost
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It took a bit of digging and learning how to use TextExtract, but I was able to find the game here, though the game is only in Japanese as it seems. There's not a whole ton of information on this game other than the VNDB page and the deviant art page mentioned. However, I did find two korean reviews on it that are pretty detailed, so if you are interested, try reading those. Still I played the entire thing with all endings, extras and everything, so I will be documenting as much as I can on this. It's pretty good actually, even when the translation was a bit wonky all the time (but pretty hilarious), so I really hope that someone will pick this up and properly translate it.
I will warn that almost all the endings are rather tragic and dark and there is at least one cg in this summary that involves decapitation. I won't be posting all of the CGs, but I will be posting at least one for each character.
The story of Lunatic Honey starts out with our main protagonist Yuki talking about the three yanderes in the game: Hibiki, her childhood friend who takes care of her and is a bit aloof, Haruka, the blond underclassman who adores Yuki and Ryoma the flirty and dependable upperclassman. They are all popular at school with Haruka and Ryoma having their own fanclubs (essentially) and they all love Yuki and are a bit possessive of her (oh, you know, yandere things). The first choice dictates whose route you go down, with the girls in Yuki's class asking who she likes the most.
Hibiki's route, Hibiki and Yuki head home after the school day riding on Hibiki's motorcycle after he lends her a dictionary during school. He cooks food for Yuki and then goes home, to his mother, whom he ignores and heads into his room. While his mother is begging apologizes outside of his door, Hibiki is afraid that she might try to kill him again and thinks about Yuki, praying that she'll save him. The school festival is starting soon and everyone has to participate, with Hibiki's class doing a butler cafe that Yuki wants to see. While going home, Yuki meets up with Hibiki and the two go to a restaurant to eat and paint their nails (I think it's like a prize they get since the restaurant owners thing they're a couple but it's hard to tell with the translation). Upon going home, Hibiki begs again that time will move faster so that he can see Yuki's again. The next day, after a cute exchange about the nail painting on the roof, Yuki sees someone confessing to Hibiki, who then shreds the love letter in front of the girl's face. Yuki asks why Hibiki turned her down so harshly and Hibiki states he wanted to make it clear that he didn't like her, which somehow turns to him confessing to Yuki and her turning it down (again, translations a bit rough there). Yuki goes home and cleans her room, finding a necklace that Hibiki gave her when she was younger. We get a flashback to when the two were younger, where Hibiki gives Yuki the necklace as a way to show his feelings towards her. During the festival, Yuki comes to visit Hibiki in his booth, seeing him in a waiter outfit and having a good time. After the festival, Yuki finds a cold Hibiki waiting at the entrance of her apartment and offers him to stay for the night. He takes a shower, thinking how happy he is that Yuki found him and that he will never let her go. The next morning, Yuki finds Hibiki huddled up next to the door of her room instead of on the couch. Concerned, she wakes him up and the two have breakfast. At some point, Yuki brings up the ring, and confesses her feelings, solidifying the two as a couple. At school, Hibiki reveals to the other two yanderes that they're dating, and they don't seem very happy about it, though are forced to accept it. We see how their relationship continues, with Yuki being more and more concerned about Hibiki, as he seems to know exactly where she is all the time and generally being much more possessive. On a rainy day, she sees Haruka standing in the rain and rushes to give him an umbrella, only to be stopped by Hibiki. Hibiki seems angry that she would give the umbrella to him in the first place, stating that she should only care about Hibiki. Yuki compromises and the two go together to give Haruka the umbrella. That night, Yuki remembers a memory from when she and Hibiki are younger, when Hibiki used to get very sick periodically, and ended up in the hospital. Yuki would sneak in after hours to comfort Hibiki so he wouldn't be lonely. Hibiki's mother comes in and attempts to kill Hibiki, with Yuki saving him by throwing a vase at her and promising to always be there for Hibiki. At school, Ryoma confesses to Yuki that he's worried about Yuki and Hibiki, and that it's okay to say that he's a burden. Yuki states that while Hibiki can be difficult, she loves him and wouldn't trade him for anyone else. Upon leaving, we see that Hibiki had been listening the entire time, and Ryoma warns Hibiki to not neglect her and make her sad. We then see Hibiki on the rooftop with Yuki attempting to stop him from jumping off. Hibiki talks about how it would be paradise if the two could be together, to which Yuki hugs him, promising they will have it together. Hibiki jumps off the roof with Yuki in his arms happy that the two can be together forever.
If you choose to give Haruka the umbrella and ignore Hibiki, Yuki will run out into the rain and give Haruka an umbrella. In response, Haruka will be overjoyed and forcibly kisses Yuki. Hibiki from this point on seems more cheerful and the story becomes more light hearted with Hibiki sharing his food with Haruka and Ryoma. It turns out Hibiki hid razors in their food, causing their tongues to be cut off. Yuki reacts in horror as Hibiki takes out a machete to cut off his two rival's heads off.
If you choose to tell Ryoma that Hibiki is a burden, she will cry into Ryoma's arms before leaving, leaving a very depressed Hibiki. At home, Yuki cooks one of the leftover foods that Hibiki left for her but notices something strange. To her horror, she finds either Hibiki's hand or finger floating inside the food. She gets a call from Hibiki from inside of a subway station as well as a text from Hibiki for him apologizing for being a burden and that he left his hand/finger inside the food so that he will always be a part of Yuki. The last thing Yuki hears in the phone call is Hibiki jumping into the traintracks as the subway crushes him.
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If Yuki instead chooses Haruka, Yuki will go to the library to find a dictionary for her class, bumping into Haruka there. Yuki and Haruka walk together to school and Yuki finds out that Haruka is actually a full British, his family is rich and he lives on the opposite end of where Yuki lives. Haruka walks Yuki home before going home and having dinner with his family. His family seems pretty normal and generally happy, and Haruka excuses himself to his room where he listens to Yuki over a radio. During lunchtime the next day, Haruka asks Yuki what their stance is on insects, since his cousin has been collecting him. Yuki dislikes most insects though she's fine with some of them (like butterflies or dragonflies) and Haruka agrees. We also find out that at the festival, Haruka will be participating in a cosplay event and dressing up as a cat boy. At the end of school, Yuki sees Haruka sitting out of his track team. Yuki talks to him and finds out that Haruka has injured his ankle and has been sitting out. He states that the team is counting on him and that now that he's hurt himself, he's essentially useless to them. Yuki tries to cheer him up by stating that he has other good qualities as well. Haruka goes home and listens in on Yuki again, believing that she's the only one who really cares about her and that today is proof. Upon going home the next day, Yuki runs into Haruka where they essentially have a date at the arcade playing with the claw machine. During the festival, Yuki goes to visit Haruka who but is stopped by a long line of people wanting to see him. Just as she's about to leave, Haruka stops her and the two go onto the rooftop, where Haruka confesses his feelings and Yuki accepts them. While preparing for her date with Haruka, Haruka is listening in on which outfits she's choosing. Haruka mentions that he planned the trip to the amusement park specifically for her by sending fliers to her house. During the date, Haruka mentions the kind of clothes that he'd like to see on her, and guides her throughout the park, knowing exactly what she wants due to his eavesdropping. Ryoma calls her during the date, but before she can respond, Haruka becomes really jealous, having his eyes cloud over, which scares Yuki. Upon rejecting the call, the two have a good date, although Yuki was still nervous about seeing that side of Haruka. The next day, while moving some things for her class, she finds that Ryoma has fallen down the stairs. It seems that Haruka had come up the stairs as well, and she heavily suspected that Haruka was the one who pushed him down. The next day at home, she finds it strange that Hibiki has not come to visit her and instead finds Haruka at her house and walks her to school. At school, we find out that Haruka broke both his legs in a motorcycle accident, and Yuki gets walked home y Haruka. At their place, Haruka grows jealous, telling Yuki that he fell for her at the beginning of the year since she helped her and that before he was bullied because of his British Heritage. To him, he believes everyone else is simply a bug, and attempts to stab Yuki. Mortified, he begins crying and Yuki comforts him, promising to never leave him. It turns out that Haruka purposefully started crying so that she would promise him that and happily accepts it.
If Yuki attempts to break up with Haruka, he will overhear due to his tracking device. The next day, Haruka continuously rings at the doorbell and tries to get in, much to Yuki's fright. She tries to hide, but Haruka breaks in due to a key that he got off of Hibiki, with his hand still held onto it. Haruka ends up stabbing Hibiki and as she dies, he hears Haruka's expression of love over and over again.
If Yuki accepts to be with Haruka, Haruka will become more and more isolating, cutting off her friends and only hanging around Haruka. One day, while crossing the street, someone pushes Haruka into the way of a truck causing him to get hit. Yuki is pulled back by Ryoma, who takes her away, declaring his love for her.
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In Ryoma's route, Yuki runs into Ryoma while looking for a dictionary and Ryoma gives it to her, flirting with her and kissing her on the head. At the end of the day, Ryoma attempts to walk home with Yuki, but is blocked off by all of his fangirls, causing Yuki to walk home with Hibiki instead. At his apartment, his mother checks in on him briefly before living him alone, and we learn that Yuki is Ryoma's first love, and that he's having a hard time expressing his love to her and hopes to claim her as his own. The next day on the rooftop, Yuki asks Ryoma what he's doing for the festival and we find out that Ryoma will actually be participating in a basketball game and hopes that Yuki will come there to support him, to which Yuki says she will try to. After school while walking home, she walks with Ryoma through the park as the autumn leaves fall. They have a romantic moment talking about their favorite seasons and how they like the autumn leaves. At home, Ryoma's love for Yuki grows stronger, with him really wanting to make him hers. The next day, before Yuki goes home, she's confronted by the members of Ryoma's fanclub and bullied before Ryoma comes in to save her. He threatens that he will kill the fangirls and they run away scared. Ryoma promises to protect Yuki and that he will make sure nothing like this happens again. During the weekend, Yuki gets a text from Ryoma asking her to go to the movies with him, to which Yuki accepts. After meeting up, they have a romantic time watching the movie, which is about a love triangle. Ryoma talks about how he would never let that happen to the female character if he was in the main lead's shoes and would rather keep her all to himself. During the festival, Yuki goes to see Ryoma at the basketball game and even cheers for him. Afterwards, Ryoma tells Yuki that he was able to win because she cheered for him. Ryoma confesses to Yuki and she accepts, having them date. The next day they have a date together and they go into Ryoma's apartment. Ryoma notes that the apartment is soundproof making it great for doing karaoke (...amongst other things). Ryoma goes to get Yuki tea and during this time she gets a strange call from Haruka, with strange breathing. When Ryoma comes back, she notes the call to him with his response stating that it was probably a prank call. Ryoma leaves again for a phone call, and Yuki hears strange noises upstairs. Tentatively, she goes up the stairs and finds a tied and beat up Haruka trapped on a chair. Ryoma finds her and wishes that she didn't do that, drugging her and making her pass out. When she wakes up, she is chained onto a bed. From then on, she is unable to escape, with Ryoma leaving to get her food, cuddle with her and even giving her a collar with a bell on it. One day, Yuki finds that Ryoma has forgotten to chain her up and attempts to leave the apartment, however, finds that Ryoma is outside. It seems that he purposefuly let them loose to test if she really loved her and decides to amputate her legs as a result. From then on, Yuki is broken, happy to see Ryoma whenever he returns, with Ryoma extremely happy as well.
If after Yuki escapes her chains she decides to look around the house, she finds that Haruka has been chopped into bits and finds Hibiki drowned in the bathroom. Ryoma while heading home thinks fondly of Yuki, happy that she didn't try to escape. However, upon opening the door is stabbed by Yuki. Ryoma stabs her back leading to the two dying on the living room floor together.
If Yuki accepts the dog collar willingly, she is continually pampered by Ryoma, essentially accepting her fate. He gifts her a coral hairpin before leaving but doesn't return. Instead, we get a Hibiki coming in and trying to save Yuki, showing her the decapitated head of Ryoma. Traumatized by his death, Yuki chooses to take her hairpin and kill herself, causing Hibiki to scream out and watch his love die.
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The final (and probably least tragic as we know of) ending is if Yuki doesn't really choose any of the guys (or basically is neutral about them). On the day of the festival, she heads up to the roof, only to find the three guys there. They all confess to her, leading to her being shocked and confused at what's going on.
There are some extras as well, relating to the creator's comments and a "yandere room" with each character to ask them questions about their likes, dislikes hobbies and other things.
Going into the game I wasn't really expecting all that much, but it actually is a very good game and surprisingly tragic/brutal. Despite the fact that is a bit old, it is very well written and very much of it's time (basically it has the vibes that it came from 2014 which isn't really a bad thing it's just a feeling.) Considering the game was made by a team of three, I think it's very well made, from the backgrounds to the sprites to the songs. I'm not sure if they made the music or not, but it's very good consisting of piano rifts. My favorite one is what I call the "panic" music, which generally plays when when the yandere is doing something, well, yandere like and the use of silence is really good for some of the endings. On Hibiki's train suicide route, I was having chills down my spine because of the silence they used when they revealed that Yuki was eating curry with Hibiki's hand/fingers in it.
My favorites in order are Hibiki, Haruka and then Ryoma, with Hibiki having the most emotional route and being the most fleshed out. I think that Hibiki as a yandere is a little bit more rare in games too since he tends to be more self inflicting which isn't something I see too much. Haruka and Ryoma's routes are both good and are more based on preference which one you like the most (I like Haruka because he's cute, has a good face turn and I'm not really into confinement as much), though it does feel like Hibiki's route is the "canon" out of all of them.
Starting with Hibiki's route, I actually wasn't sure that I would like him since he comes off as rather aloof initially but as the route went on I started to feel for him the most. Out of all the love interest he's the only one that has a bad relationship with his parents (with Haruka and Ryoma, they seem to have good relationships with their parents they are simply just unaware what their children are doing), and you really feel bad for him considering when he's at home all he wants is to see Yuki again. He is the childhood friend so he's been taking care of Yuki since she was young and Yuki protected Hibiki from his mother as well when they were smaller and his route shows how vulnerable he is. I think he had the most impact in terms of bad endings because I did not expect him cut of his own hand/fingers and kill himself on the subway (I think it's the bad end that most resonates with me). His other bad ending seems a bit strange since he's really happy until he straight up cuts off Haruka and Ryoma's head since other than that he doesn't really seem to be the brutal type, though I guess it does foreshadow the bad ending in Ryoma's route considering he decapitates him.
I was kinda wondering why it took him so long to sleep over at Yuki's house. I feel that because Hibiki and Yuki are close enough that it wouldn't really be weird for him to sleep over at her place (at least on her couch) especially if he reminds her about his relationship with his mom. Maybe it's because he's trying to come off as more independent, but I just feel like he could have totally slept over if he wanted, plus he'd always be near Yuki if he did, making it so he wouldn't always be pining for her at home.
I thought it was funny that the text extract would mistranslate Hibiki's name into Echo/Sound/Ring, so much so that Cherry and I would just call him Echo-kun/Ring-kun/Sound-kun. Cherry also laments his mullet hair because it doesn't really look that good on him in the sprites and especially when he dresses up as a waitor. There's a bit of a dark joke that he likes watermelons considering in the Ryoma bad ending, Yuki initially mistakes Ryoma's head as the watermelons that Echo-kun and her would break when they were younger which is... dark haha.
Moving onto Haruka's route, I think his route did a good job with his heel face turn especially when it came to him basically going into yandere mode. Out of all the love interests, he's definitely the most pushy in terms of getting Yuki to do what he wants as well as the most isolating (socially because the actual isolation award goes to Ryoma). Yuki is so scared of him that she actively tries not to activate that side of him and tries to believe in that sweeter side of Haruka. I did think it was funny that in his bad ending Ryoma just kind of comes out of nowhere and kills Haruka. I also kept joking that because Hibiki lost his hands/fingers in Haruka's other bad ending that Hibiki is just destined to lose his hands in all of them lol.
There wasn't anything really wrong with Haruka's route, I just thought it was funny that he was like "I like my parents but they just don't understand me" moment when he initially goes into his room to listen in on Yuki. Something about it made me think he was like a brooding teenager which is sort of is, lol. Not that telling his parents that he's wiretapping the girl he likes is something he should do, I just think it's funny. I also kept on imagining when Haruka gets Hibiki into the motorcycle accident that he just straight up jump kicks him sideways because although that's probably not what happened I just think that would be the funniest way of doing it.
Text extract kept on translating his name as remote (?) for some reason. I liked his cat outfit (because I'm weak to those) but it looked kind of weird on him I'll be honest. I think it's just because he looks weirdly flat on him, but a cat outfit is a cat outfit.
Ryoma's route is surprisingly the most romantic, since in pretty much all interactions in his route, its very sweet until up to the point where he kidnaps her (I mean he's sweet to her as well, just in a different way). Ryoma is the most bold out of all the other love interests, actively flirting with Yuki and it's a bit similar to Toma in a lot of ways. I do think that his route probably has the most deaths considering in the murder suicide ending pretty much all the main characters die. I think his route does the most 180 degrees in this game going from romantic to straight up kidnapping Yuki and even amputating her legs in the true ending.
I am surprised that pretty much no one seems to really know or at least care that Yuki is gone other than Hibiki considering she gets imprisoned for like a month, or maybe they did but since we're in Yuki's point of view it doesn't seem like they really cared. I guess Hibiki does end up succeeding in looking for her in the two bad endings, but it either ends up with him or Yuki dead so I guess it wouldn't have really worked out in the first place.
His name was consistently Ryoma except for the instances where they either translated him to horse or old man. I guess it makes sense because the first character of Ryoma's name is horse (馬), though I was surprised that it was so consistent considering the other two love interest's names.
Overall, I really did like this game. I think there was a lot of love when making it and it makes me sad that this group disbanded and that none of their games were ever translated. I hope that it does get picked up one day and translated because it is genuinely very good despite the way I had to change it to English (TextExtract was mostly consistent in translations except when it would cut off some long texts for some reason). If someone were to remake/translate this game, I think it would be really good for introducing to male yandere lovers.
Hopefully you guys enjoyed my really long summary and analysis for this game. Thank you for sending this ask because without it I wouldn't have played this obscure but pretty good yandere game!
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thanksjro · 2 years
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More Than Meets the Eye #40 — Ratchet Runs Off After a Man
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This is the issue where Ratchet gets Kaiju-ed and everyone has to adjust to their new normal of living with a giant doctor. Very touching story, love the part where he reenacts the King Kong Empire State scene with Cyclonus.
Also, I very much hope you all know that this is clearly a lie I’m telling, because lying is funny.
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We get a quick montage of Ratchet’s life, as he had what was the last moment together with a few people who were very important to him, or at least as he knew them. Roller had come to his clinic before he and Orion Pax and the college kids left Rodion, to ask him to join them. Ratchet couldn’t, due to all the patients in the Dead End who depended on him. He looks as if he wants to say something, but instead just thanks Roller for dropping by. This would be the last time he saw Roller, as Roller disappeared during the events of that hot spot incident we saw during the ‘Elegant Chaos’ arc.
Later, he informed Pharma that he was leaving for Earth later that day, which I’ll go ahead and say, was a bit of a dick move to not say something sooner. Ratchet leaves in the middle of the conversation, not catching Pharma asking if he should take the assignment to Delphi that Prowl offered him. We, of course, know how that turned out for Pharma.
Later still, Ratchet drops off Hunter O’Nion off at his home, then quickly leaves, saying that he doesn’t want to keep him from settling in. Hunter is disappointed by the suddenness of his departure, but at least nothing bad will ever happen to this young man again.
Yep. Nothing bad happened to Hunter O’Nion.
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He’s perfectly fine, and also alive.
Anyway, each of these scenes are labeled as being unsuccessful, though in what exactly we don’t know yet. In the present, we see the Lost Light parked on the planet of Scarvix, still recharging its quantum engines from that whole thing with Brainstorm’s time adventure. Inside, Tailgate is being a menace, having apparently stolen the Back to the Future hoverboard and riding it down the halls while also wielding a fishing pole. Swerve is busy inside Swerve’s, making a drinking glass tower while he abuses his employee. Ratchet watches this injustice happen and doesn’t say a goddamned thing.
Tailgate whips into the bar and hits the less obvious of the two targets in the room.
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Ratchet was the only patron of the bar today, and it’s not just because of there being shore leave, or it being No-Fun-Allowed week. See, Swerve never planned for there to be any real competition to his bar, and now Mirage, who is likely much cooler and well-liked than Swerve, has opened his own establishment, and everybody loves it, especially after the whole “Brainstorm poisoned everyone” thing.
Swerve is extra touchy as a result, and threatens to ban Tailgate from the bar forever for the grave sin of thinking that Mirage’s “Visages” might be a good time. Tailgate ignores this, asking for a six-pack of space beer for his fishing date with Getaway. Tailgate then explains the game they’re going to be playing, which involves some inconsiderate handling of Legislator corpses, right in front of Ten.
Ten is banished to work the front door, for the grave sin of having sat down for a second. Walking to his post reveals that someone has graffitied his back.
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Love how Tailgate still refuses to use Whirl’s name. And I don’t think pointing out how Dominus Ambus could have done more for Cybertronian society to make up for being such a nasty little creep to his own subordinates is a bad thing, Swerve.
Apparently Swerve isn’t the only bitch on this ship in a foul mood, as Ultra Magnus has apparently been interrogating folks about a missing datapad and demanding that Swerve treat Ten with basic decency. I would personally like for Union Magnus to put Swerve in the brig for his shitty boss crimes, but we don’t have time for that right now, because Ratchet just realized he’s late for something.
It’s the goddamned court case for Brainstorm’s time crimes.
Yes, for once we’re actually using due process, as the “Lost Light Internal Legal Affairs Committee”— L.L.I.L.A.C., like the room’s paint job— consists of Xaaron, who I’m sure is thrilled to finally be able to do something, Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, and Megatron, who has apparently decided he’s not going to attend. What he could possibly be doing instead is beyond me, it’s not like he’s got any sort of social life on this fucking ship. There’s also a public gallery, made up of folks who were involved in some way in the events of the time travel nonsense. Chromedome is acting as Brainstorm’s defense, I guess because no one else wanted to.
Brainstorm immediately makes things difficult for himself, asking why Rewind wasn’t also put in prison to await trial, seeing as he’s the one who actually shot Babytron. Ultra Magnus reminds him that Rewind had a whole thing with the DJD the day before all the time travel, and that the little man was traumatized to the point where they could excuse him shooting an infant, especially since Whirl fixed that oopsie pretty quick.
Rodimus cuts in here, bringing up Brainstorm’s face plate— that’s right, the man’s basically naked for his trial— and after a little futzing around, manages to get it to show off the hidden Decepticon badge on the inside. Brainstorm is pretty cavalier about it, which seems to piss Nautica the hell off, as she storms out, leaving the wrench she squeezed out of shape behind. I’m not sure why exactly she’s so upset about this, seeing as she wasn’t even around for the war. Brainstorm then goes on to explain why exactly he’s a Decepticon.
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Of course, L.L.I.L.A.C. has their doubts, considering what happened on the quantum duplicate Lost Light was caused by that Brainstorm deciding he wanted them to come get Overlord. The current Brainstorm, however, has a theory on why exactly that happened, making a bad joke as he explains that he’s actually a horrendous double agent, and needed to show the DJD that he was on the up and up, by giving them one of their most elusive List members.
Ultar Mgsuna— Rodimus has been fidgeting with the name plates this whole time— asks for any final statements. Brainstorm, deciding that shutting up isn’t on his schedule for today, decides to let everyone know that he very much doesn’t appreciate being bullied into taking the blame for something that he didn’t even personally do, quantum duplication bullshit be damned. Plus, it’s not like the DJD were exactly faultless, considering they were the ones who did the actual murder.
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Perceptor, this isn’t how courtrooms work, sit down.
Magnus, after taking a moment to marvel at how out of order this court is, informs Brainstorm that a committee decision has been reached; Brainstorm can’t be held responsible for the deaths on the alternate Lost Light, for reasons Brainstorm already stated, and the fact that he’s a Decepticon can’t really be charged, as merely being a part of the faction isn’t actually a crime, and it would also mean that Ravage would have to be put in jail, and also that Megatron’s deal would have to be opened back up, which nobody really wants to deal with. However, attempted murder is still a crime, and as punishment, Brainstorm’s time machine will be destroyed, and he’ll be chaperoned in his lab at all times, as well as be forced to cease all communication with his Decepticon handler.
Brainstorm is very surprised that his actions haven’t earned him a booting off the ship, but states that the Lost Light is his home, and he’s glad to be able to stay. This moment gives Ratchet pause, as he’s taken back to the last time something like this happened, and the results of that decision.
After the trial, Magnus goes a-banging on Megatron’s door, to question him about the datapad from earlier, and also the whole “not being at the trial” thing, but that feels like more of an afterthought. Megatron says that he’s been busy, but we don’t get any resolution on what exactly he’s been up to, because it’s time to go get shitfaced.
In “Visages”, we see Getaway and Tailgate having a drink, as Tailgate regales him with his time travel escapades. Getaway decides that now would be a good time to practice his negging, as he not-so-subtly implies that Cyclonus has been talking shit behind Tailgate’s back, even telling folks about Tailgate being a crybaby bitch while he was dying of cybercrosis. Tailgate is very hurt by this, having thought he could trust Cyclonus with that sort of vulnerability. So hurt, in fact, he forgets that Cyclonus just straight up doesn’t talk to people without provocation, unless it’s Tailgate himself. Why exactly Getaway is acting like such a shitbird will be better understood later, but for now, it looks like he’s doing this to have Tailgate all to himself.
Tailgate complains of a headache as Getaway pours him another drink and swears him to secrecy on what he’s told Tailgate about Cyclonus. Ratchet walks by, not having caught this conversation, asking to borrow Tailgate’s hoverboard.
Smash cut to said hoverboard having been put in a quarantine tube, as Ratchet goes down the list of all the folks he needs to check for the super-scraplets that have apparently infested it. Though it seems like there’s a hidden motive to these checkups, as he’s only invited his friends to them. He chews Rodimus out for being inconsistent with his punishments, saying he was too hard on Drift. He reminds Nautica that Brainstorm is an M.T.O., and would have been destroyed if his plan had worked, making it a selfless act to try to make the galaxy better. He tells Rung to do his fucking job and check on Hoist, after his fucking roommate got super-murdered by an office chair, and also tells him to talk to someone himself. He tells Skids to go check on Rung. He tells Swerve to invite Megatron out, in an attempt to get some business back at his bar. He checks in on Magnus, who reveals that he doesn’t feel respected, showing off the tiny figure of Minimus Ambus he found outside his office. He’s taken it as an insulting comment on his true self.
Later, First Aid calls Ratchet out on being a weirdo who can’t talk to people without having to build up an entire false scenario first. Ratchet doesn’t really acknowledge it, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have had time to do it before Tailgate comes flying in.
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Tailgate apparently got himself a new board, courtesy of Ten, who even went so far as to put a sick decal on it, of Tailgate opening a Matrix. Ratchet recognizes the art style, and decides he’s got someone else to talk to before the day is done.
Ratchet finds himself down in the boiler rooms, knocking on a vent door labeled 10. Inside is— you guessed it— Ten, who invites him to come down the vent and enter his home, which he’s decorated all by himself.
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Notice how Swerve is nowhere to be fucking found on this mural.
Ten also builds models from scratch— he’d have to, I doubt Flame Toys ships to outer space— and he’s made several members of the crew by this point.
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Shane McCarthy slipped Roberts a twenty to set up this slowburn between his OC and Ratchet all the way back in MTMTE #4, I’m fucking telling you.
Ratchet stops thinking about his crush long enough to realize he completely missed the Magnus-centric display off to the side. It’s got Ultra Magnus, his office, his alt mode, Minimus Ambus and his alt, and the irreducible Minimus, though no alt counterpart is present for that one. That would be spoilers~ Ten’s model of himself is over there as well. When asked if Ten likes Ultra Magnus, he acts like a giddy schoolgirl.
Ratchet also notices the missing datapad that had Magnus so angry. Turns out Ten was trying to do a little trade, having left the figure of Minimus in exchange for the datapad. Ratchet violates Magnus’s privacy by reading the contents of the datapad, finding some personal writing. Ratchet, not wanting Magnus’s frustration over having his personal effects messed with to hurt Ten, writes a little note on the datapad before he has Ten hand it back over to the rightful owner.
Later on, it would seem that Minimus is feeling more at ease, having left his Magnus armor at home as he enters Swerve’s, with Ten by his side. In the background, Skids marvels at a model of the Lost Light Rung’s put together. When they go to sit at the bar, Swerve tries to make a scene, furious that Ten would try to act like a person. When Minimus threatens to move their hangout to “Visages”, Swerve reveals that he invited Megatron to “Visages” earlier, and the poetry reading he did there emptied it out real quick. Minimus says something that implies that his datapad contains his attempts at poetry, and in turn, self-understanding.
We get a full reading of Ratchet’s message to Magnus, as scenes of reconciliation, relationships built on lies, stagnation, destruction of a life’s work, and theft for unknown purposes play out.
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Well that’s not ominous at all.
When First Aid enters Ratchet’s room, he finds only a phone, to be used if the new CMO should need him. Ratchet, having finally decided that he needs to be the one to finally right the wrongs of the past, has left the Lost Light, setting out with his custom model of Drift, to find the real deal and bring him home.
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Shane McCarthy just keeps fucking winning.
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Catching Stardust
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Tadashi Hamada x Reader | ☁️ + ✨ | 3.9k
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Most days, like any other university student, you would wake up tired. Unfortunately for you, that was not today. You had spent the entire night working on your lab report for one of your science courses and didn’t get a wink of sleep. At least it was handed in and done with.
(You had to double check - just in case your brain decided to get desperate and help you imagine the best case scenarios. Thinking and doing were two very different things, they were hard to tell apart when you were so dead tired though.)
It was one of those days.
“Morning, Honey Lemon,” you greeted as you navigated your way into the kitchen for some caffeine. Grabbing your travel coffee tumbler, you watched your blonde roommate in her morning stretching routine.
“Good morning, (Y/N)!” Honey cheerfully replied. “How was not sleeping last night?”
You halted your movements, looking up at her with concern. “Can you tell just by looking at me?”
Honey Lemon laughed. “No, silly. GoGo came home late last night and saw you up. I heard you shuffling around earlier this morning too. No raccoon eyes, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Thank goodness,” you said with a sigh as you continued pouring liquid energy into your tumbler. “This bio course is going to be the death of me.”
“You mean working two part time jobs will be the death of you,” GoGo corrected you as she walked out of her room. “Girl, you need time to have fun too.”
You stuck your tongue out at her. Rummaging through backpack, you noticed a missing tome of knowledge. “Has anyone seen my Medical Terms bible?”
“Coffee table.” Honey called out from the living room as she held the tree pose.
GoGo walked over to you with the heavy book in hand. You mouthed a thank you to her before taking a sip of coffee.
“(Y/N), you need to take some time to make some more friends or meet a cute boy,” Honey Lemon brought up. She exchanged a look with GoGo. “We know someone who you might like. He’s nice and funny, good looking as well.”
You gave your two roommates a sad smile. “By the time I’m ready for a relationship, a boy like that will already be snatched up by someone less stressed about their future.”
Grabbing your premade meals and a couple of snacks, you swung your backpack on.
“I work bookstore and pharmacy today, so I’ll see you both tomorrow morning. Good luck with your projects in the meantime.”
“Bye, (Y/N)!” Honey called out.
“Keep the luck, you need it more than we do,” GoGo said with salute.
Walking out of the apartment, you checked your phone for your schedule once more. Class at nine, bookstore at two and pharmacy at six. And it was already eight thirty, yay. Just your typical jam packed day, all so that you could pay off medical school tuition in the future.
Balancing everything in life was... impossible, but you were managing. 
Full course load university student, working two part time jobs, and a very minimal but still existent social life.
It wasn’t easy, but it was what you wanted. Going to med school was a necessary path to take if you wanted to help people out in your future career choice.
Just as you were arriving on campus, a voice caught your attention.
“(Y/N)…!”
You turned to see your friend Mina, another sufferer pre-med student.
“Hi Mina,” you greeted.
“Did you sleep last night?” she asked. When you shook your head, she let out a loud sigh. “Yeah, me too. Dr. Andrews is going to kill us with these lab reports and the test Thursday. I mean, I’d feel smarter if I weren’t so tired all the time.” 
You smiled. What a mood.
“Is my make up, okay?” Mina asked. “I don’t want Justin to see me at my worse - not yet.”
You glanced over Mina’s face. She had gone through the usual effort to make herself look cute. “You look fine and I’m sure Justin wouldn’t be scared off. He knows we’re med students.”
Mina made a face. “We’ve only been a dating for two months, (Y/N), two! He doesn’t know what kind of crazy we are yet. You never know when he might get skittish and ghost me.”
If you weren’t so tired, you would have laughed. 
Linking arms with Mina, you pulled her towards the classroom. 
Today was going to be just another day.
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Tadashi checked over the information on his phone as he walked off campus towards the bookstore. He had been looking up information to help his robotics project and a certain book had come up in his recommendations. Deciding that the resource was worth checking out, and was worth the price, he was determined to get his hands on the book while his robot was still in the works.
Walking through the doors, he made his way to the medical section. Browsing the shelves, he kept an eye out for the particular title.
After circling the area for a while, he let out a huff. Where was this textbook?
Noticing a girl wearing a name tag, he approached her with smile.
“Hi, I was wondering if you could help me?”
She turned to him with a smile, (E/C) eyes making contact with his brown orbs.
“Of course, are you looking for something?”
Tadashi nodded, pulling out his phone and showing her the textbook information.
"Ahhh, this one. That’s a popular book with the first year pre-med student courses,” she commented. “Everyone always asks where this one is - we organize this one by title since there’s no author.”
Leading him back into the medical section, the girl stopped in an area of the bookstore that Tadashi had missed earlier. She tapped the spine of one of the books.
“This one is good resource for in depth procedural explanations,” she explained. “Not what you were looking for though...”
Scanning the shelves, the girl paused and frowned when she stopped a particular spot. 
“Is it out of stock?” she murmured, checking again. “For a textbook no one appreciates until third year, I’d be surprised if it’s sold out...” She turned back to Tadashi with an apologetic smile. “I’ll check if we have the book in stock - give me a second.”
Pulling out her phone, she typed up some information quickly. The results of her searching seemed to yield the same results.
“It looks like we’re actually out of stock for this textbook right now, although, we are restocking it,” she explained. “Would you like to request a reserve to get a copy?”
“That would be helpful, sure,” Tadashi agreed. 
“Great, let’s go fill out a form for you,” she chirped, leading him away. “Are you a med student?”
“No, I’m a robotics engineering student at SFIT,” he replied. “I’m working on something related to the medical field though.”
“Really? That’s so cool,” she exclaimed, looking genuinely interested. “It’s amazing to think how technology can incorporated into health sciences. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you working on?”
“A healthcare robot,” Tadashi explained with a fond smile. “It’s still in the works, nothing has been finished yet, I’m still working on the programming stages.”
“I think that’s incredible. I’m sure you’re capable of amazing things.”
The sincerity in her tone brought a smile to his face. For someone who didn’t know much about his project, the kind words from her were very nice.
“What about you?” Tadashi asked. “Are you a student?”
“Yeah, over at Sato Health Institute,” she responded. Sato was the top post secondary institution for health care in San Fransokyo located nearby - it even shared some programs with SFIT as Tadashi recalled. “I’m a pre-med student - if you hadn’t already guessed.”
“I might have had a feeling,” Tadashi said with a grin. “You seemed like you were familiar with things firsthand.”
The girl laughed. “Lots of firsthand experience, trust me.”
Approaching the help desk, the girl popped around to grab a paper and pen. Scrawling down information onto the page first, she then slid the paper over to Tadashi across the counter.
“Just fill out the rest of the form and the textbook should be arriving in the next three days.” 
Tadashi looked up from filling in the form, brown eyes flicking over to her name tag. “Thank you so much, (Y/N).”
“You’re welcome,” she replied. She took a sip from her coffee tumbler. Grabbing a sticky note, she offered it over to Tadashi. “If you’d like, leave your number and I’ll text you when it arrives - I’ll be working that day. I promise to use your number for professional reasons only.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Tadashi said as he wrote his number down. As he finished his form, he noticed a large medical terms textbook behind the counter on the desk next to the computer with a ton of sticky notes sticking out. “Is that yours?”
“That’s my current bible,” she affirmed with an amused tone. “Can’t survive without it.”
The two of them shared a laugh.
“Thanks again for your help.” Tadashi repeated as he returned the form.
“Just doing my job, don’t worry about it! It was great meeting you...” Her (E/C) eyes flickered down to the form and smile appeared on her face. “...Tadashi.”
As Tadashi left the bookstore, part of him was still lingering behind, thinking about (Y/N). She seemed like a nice girl and he really hoped that they might have another chance to encounter her again.
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You fumbled with the door before pushing it open, popping back into the dark apartment. Hitting the light switch, you took off your shoes and checked for signs of your roommates.
Looks like Honey Lemon and GoGo were still out.
No surprise.
The three of you were always busy, whether the other two liked to admit it or not. 
Just as you were sorting things out in the kitchen and about to grab a snack, your phone buzzed.
Mina: OMG. Did you see Terry’s SNS profile update? 🤣🤣
(Y/N): What did he do this time? Do I want to know??
Mina: He put MD CANDIDATE. The AUDACITY of this man - I got a C+ working with partner project with him. My poor GPA... 😭
(Y/N): I mean...
Mina: DON’T
(Y/N): Cs get degrees 😂
Mina: RIP me. Seriously though, are you free to study for that bio test? 
(Y/N): let me grab my snack first, I’ll see you video chat
Mina: True MD candidate here
(Y/N): HA 
Letting out a sigh, you swiped a snack from the cupboard before heading back to your room. Fingers crossed you would get some sleep tonight.
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“Oh, finally!”
Tadashi wiped his hands off with a rag and turned to look at Fred. Wasabi and GoGo were also looking at the beanie wearing boy, but neither of them decided to engage.
“Something up?” Tadashi asked, speaking up.
“The comic bookstore said they were out of that new series I was telling you guys about the other day,” Fred explained. “I refused to go to Richardson’s place, so apparently, they reached out to the nearby bookstore and they have a copy! I got to go pick it up.”
“The one near campus?”
“Yup.”
Tadashi paused, thinking for a moment before making his decision. 
“I’ll come with you.”
“Let’s go then, man!”
Catching up with Fred about the current condition of Baymax, the two soon arrived at the bookstore. Fred immediately beelined towards the help desk with Tadashi trailing behind him.
Just as Tadashi anticipated, a familiar face was working at the desk. This time though, (Y/N) was fairly concentrated on the stack of flashcards piled on her space next to textbooks filled with sticky notes.
“Uh, excuse me,” Fred said, practically bouncing on his toes.
That was enough to jolt her out of her studying. Shoving away her flashcards, she offered Fred a smile. “Yes?”
“I believe someone called about -”
“Oh! I know what you’re here for,” (Y/N) said, jumping up. She got up and skimmed over the bookshelf behind the counter. “Ah, here it is. Fred, right?”
At the sight of his new comic, Fred nodded happily. He quickly accepted it from you. “Is there a comic book section?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Just straight that way, it’s not a big collection, but you might find something.”
“Alright, thanks!” 
Fred turned to see Tadashi lingering around. “You coming, Tadashi?”
“There’s something I want to check out, I’ll catch up in a bit,” the black haired male responded.
As Fred disappeared, the girl turned her attention over to Tadashi. 
“I didn’t think I would see you again so soon,” she commented. “The book is not in yet, sorry.”
Tadashi smiled. “That’s fine. I see you’re here often.” 
“Yeah, when I’m not busy with classes or my other job, here I am.”
The words piqued your interest. “Other job?”
“I also work at a pharmacy,” (Y/N) explained.
“Ahh. You must be a busy person,” Tadashi said. He tilted his head towards your desk. “Studying too?”
She flushed. “Yeah. Only because today’s pretty quiet - my manager doesn’t mind as long as I’m work as I’m needed. There’s a test coming up.”
“Good luck, I think you need it.”
“I do. Thank you.”
Tadashi watched as (Y/N) moved back to sitting at the desk. As she picked up her flashcards, she looked up at Tadashi.
“How’s the healthcare robot going? Any progress in the last 24 hours?”
“Baymax finally had some supply come in for assembling,” he responded. “So, just a little bit.”
“Baymax?” she repeated confused. “Oh. Is that their name?”
Tadashi nodded.
“Baymax… I like it, sounds friendly.”
“I should probably let you get back to studying,” Tadashi commented, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry for bothering you.”
“Not at all, I’m happy to chat with you.”
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- Wednesday. 6PM. -  
Honey: (Y/N)?
(Y/N): What’s up, Honey Lemon?
Honey: I heard the pre-med students plan on throwing a party this weekend? 
Honey: Are you going?
(Y/N): Nah, I think I have work.
GoGo: You always work.
(Y/N): Huh, I never noticed.
(Y/N): Anyways, parties are not my scene. I’d be happy spending a free evening at home instead.
GoGo: Mina says she’ll miss you.
(Y/N): She’ll have Justin, she’ll be okay
Honey: Well, if you ever decide to go, we know a boy you can take with you.
(Y/N): Thanks, but I’ll pass. 🥰
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- Thursday. 5PM. -
Unknown: Hi Tadashi. The textbook you wanted finally came in! Feel free to drop by anytime to come pick it up.
Tadashi: Alright, thanks (Y/N)!
Unknown: Yep, no prob!
Tadashi: Hey, is this your personal number?
Unknown: yeah 😊
(Y/N) has been added to contacts.
Tadashi: Hope you don’t mind if I contact you like in the future. 😊
(Y/N): Oh, I wouldn’t mind at all!
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“Tadashi, hi,” you greeted, waving as the boy came into your line of sight. With a baseball cap on his head today, you almost mistaken him for someone else. Pulling out the textbook, you handed it over to him. “Here you go! You weren’t the only one trying to get your hands on this textbook today.”
Tadashi peered at you curiously as he accepted the textbook. 
“You look tired,” he pointed out.
You just shrugged with a half smile. “The bio test was today - that was gruesome.”
“At least that’s done with,” he encouraged you. “Week’s almost over, too.”
“Best part is I’m off in five,” you agreed.
 You could see your words caught Tadashi’s interest. 
“Are... are you still working after?” 
Shaking your head, you leaned back against the counter. “Nope, told them I was busy today so no shifts at the pharmacy tonight.”
“Would you like to go out with me then?” Tadashi asked hopefully. “We can hit up a café and grab something to eat?”
Good thing you were leaning against the counter, because the surprise you felt would have toppled you over.
“Oh, um, sure!” you agreed, cheeks heating up a little. “I’ll meet you outside in five?”
“Sounds good.”
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- Friday. 9AM. -
Tadashi: I enjoyed my time with you yesterday. 
(Y/N): I enjoyed my time too! Although the cookies there were kind of hard... 😢
Tadashi: Yeah... I find us somewhere with nice cookies next time.
(Y/N): Just a warning, next time might be a while. My schedule is usually full.
Tadashi: That’s fine!! If you ever find yourself with free time, let me know, I’d like to spend it with you.
(Y/N): 🥰
(Y/N): You’re too sweet, Tadashi. 
(Y/N): How are you single??
Tadashi: Haha, I could ask you the same thing. Probably the same reasons as you though. I’m usually too focused with what’s in front of me.
Tadashi: Hope to see you around though.
(Y/N): me too
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- Some Tuesday. 8PM. -
“And your total is 18.95,” you said, pressing buttons on the register to confirm the amount. The customer tapped their card for the purchase before taking their bags. “I hope you feel better!”
“Thank you,” the customer responded as they left. 
You waited until they had gone completely before heading back to find your manager. Spotting one of older pharmacy students, you decided to talk to them instead.
“Hi,” you greeted.
“(Y/N), need any drugs?” Harper asked with a smile.
“I’ll take them all,” you joked. “Let Aria know I left if you see her for me?”
“Yeah, go. You’re free,” she ushered, waving you away.
As you pulled on your jacket and stepped out of the pharmacy, a figure caught you by surprise.
“Tadashi!” you exclaimed. 
“Surprised?” he asked. “Thought I’d walk you home, not safe for you to walk the street alone at night.”
“I do it frequent enough,” you countered with a smile.
“Ooh, risk taker,” Tadashi said.
You laughed. “I appreciate this though, thanks.”
Tadashi nodded. As the two of you were catching up each other on what happened throughout the day, you felt Tadashi slip his hand into yours. Fingers intertwined, you could feel your heart racing.
This was something you didn’t want to let go of.
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- Some Monday. 2PM. -
GoGo: Yo, Tadashi
GoGo: Fred wants to know when you’ll be back with the snacks.
Tadashi: Just stepped back on campus. 
GoGo: Took you a while.
GoGo: You seeing someone behind our back?
Tadashi: Ha. Does Baymax count?
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- A couple weeks later. Friday. 10AM. -
“Someone looks cute today,” Mina commented as you sat down next to her in the lecture hall. She eyed you up and down, nodding approvingly. “Not working today?”
“Yeah,” you replied. “My rare day off besides class. Thought I’d put a little more effort in today.”
“Well, you look adorable,” Mina confirmed. She let out a sigh when she saw the professor walk in. “Let’s see if we can survive these next two hours.”
“Challenge accepted,” you said, bumping her shoulder playfully. “Although, I might lose you halfway.”
Mina gasped and smacked your arm.
You laughed as you pulled your laptop. Although the two hours went by at a decent pace, you were glad the course was three quarters way through. 
At the brutal pace your professor went, there was nothing but review for the few weeks before final exams. It was nice to know you didn’t have to teach yourself an entire unit in a week before your final.
Bidding Mina goodbye, you weaved your way out of the lecture hall and out into campus. At this point, most groups of students you saw hanging around were study groups. You would have been like them too, if you hadn’t worked so hard to make things work.
Balancing two part time jobs along with classes had you putting in so much extra effort that it usually paid off in the long run.
Yay.
Navigating your way through the streets with the GPS app open on your phone, you soon spotted the campus you were looking for.
SFIT.
(Abbreviated, because thinking through what each letter stood for was too much effort.)
Slowly wandering around as you pulled up the campus directory, your eyes glimmered when you spotted the building you were looking for. Popping inside, you clutched onto your bag, peering around curiously. There was so much science happening in this space. 
Lots of creativity too, you wondered why their tradition was to prank the art school.
Poking around, you soon realized you were lost among the many rooms and labs. Your mission was a failure. Pouting, you pulled your phone.
(Y/N): Help me, I’m lost.
Tadashi: What do you mean?
(Y/N): I wandered into the lab building and was going to surprise you with a visit, but I don’t know where to find you. 🙁
(Y/N): I didn’t think this through...
Tadashi: Awwww
Tadashi: What room number do you see? I’ll find you.
(Y/N): Lab 2B
Tadashi: omw
As you awkwardly waited for Tadashi to show up, you tried not to look suspicious. Although admittedly, you were sure you looked suspicious regardless since you were lost.
“There you are,” the soft yet deep voice greeted from behind you.
Turning around to see Tadashi, you smiled. 
“Sorry for the trouble,” you apologized. 
“Not at all.” Tadashi shook his head. He took a moment to take you in. Within his eyes, you were absolutely beautiful. He didn’t want to mess up, so he kept it to himself. He’d voice his thoughts one day. “Welcome to Nerd Lab, by the way.”
So this was where Tadashi, your roommates, and their friends all spent their long hours working.
Tadashi took your hand. “Come on, I want to show you my lab.”
Following after Tadashi, the two of you entered the elevator behind arriving on the floor of his personal lab space. He opened a door, showing you his tidy space.
“Baymax won’t be in the works for a while, but here,” he pulled out several large blueprints. The image of an almost plush like character was found in the middle. “This is going to be Baymax.”
In awe of all the labelled details and planning in place, you looked up at Tadashi.
“This is incredible,” you breathed out. “You’re incredible too.”
Tadashi dipped his head down and captured your lips for a kiss. 
Before he had the opportunity to pull back too far, you went in and gave him a quick peck as well.
Although the two of you were flushed, the loving gaze you could see in Tadashi’s eyes made you feel hopeful about this relationship.
“Can I see the medical programming?” you asked, breaking the silence.
Tadashi shyly nodded. “All the computer.” 
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- Later. -
(Y/N): Do you think we should let our friends know?
Tadashi: Nah, they’ll catch on eventually.
(Y/N): But if they don’t should I just accept their blind date request?
Tadashi: WHAT?
(Y/N): 😂
(Y/N): I asked for more details one time.
(Y/N): He’s this handsome robotics engineering student, who nice and has a good sense of humor. Apparently he’s very dedicated to his work too.
Tadashi: …
Tadashi: They’ve tried to set me up with their friend as well. 
(Y/N): Hmm, maybe we were meant to be after all
Tadashi: I think so. 😀
(Y/N): 😘
1K notes · View notes
exolssecretsanta · 3 years
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Hello EXO-Ls!
Welcome to the “2021 EXO-Ls Secret Santa (SS) Online Gift Exchange.”
We had such a wonderful experience with last year’s EXO-Ls Secret Santa (SS) Online Gift Exchange that I have decided to do it again this year.  I have made some changes to this year’s rules so please read closely.  I hope the 2021 project helps bring you all lots of joy and holiday fun.  
Please join me in this EXO fandom online holiday gift exchange.  How does it work? You sign up to make an online gift for someone and someone else makes one for you.  Simple and fun! Everyone will receive their gift the week before Christmas!  You don’t have to have a EXO blog to join.  If you are a fan - then you can join.
This is a tumblr online gift exchange so all gifts must be digital.  Gift examples: fanfiction, gifsets, playlists, mood boards, photoshop edits, tumblr icons/headers, etc. (If you want to try and make some edits/mood boards here is a website that offers a free editor. https://www.canva.com/create/mood-boards/
The first thing you need to do is sign up HERE .  Once I close the sign up window I will randomly match you up with someone else based on the criteria you filled out in the sign up form.
THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT:  SECRET SANTA is to be kept a SECRET.   Do not tell the person you are making the gift for who you are.  It’s a secret until you reveal yourself when you post their gift on tumblr.  
Last year we required participants to send Anonymous messages (of positivity or questions to personalize their gifts, etc) to the person they were making the gift for, but there were difficulties with that.  So, I am not making it a requirement this year.  If you still wish to do this, please do.  I will however require participants to turn on their ASK inbox and allow for Anonymous messages.  That will help those who do wish to send anon messages. 
You’ll have a lot of time to make your gift.  I will have one check-in date to see how you all are doing.  I understand that real life can get in the way, so this check-in date is a way for you to let me know if you can complete your gift on time.  This secret santa exchange is meant to be fun and enjoyable - not stressful so, you do not have to wait on the check-in date to make your gift.  Make it sooner rather than later and all you have to do is post it during the post date period below.
Here are the important dates:
Sign Ups Open: 7 September
Sign Ups Close: 10 October 
Gift Assignment notification sent to your tumblr direct message: 14-17th October. 
Check-in : 4 December
GIFTS POSTED: you can post your gifts any day during 16-18th December. 
Here are the RULES: *** THESE HAVE CHANGED FROM LAST YEAR ***
You must follow this blog and please reblog/signal boost this informational post.  
Please tag your Gift post with the following: name of the blog receiving your gift and our blog name: @EXOLSSECRETSANTA (the reason I ask you to include our blog name on your post is to help ensure I get the notification. I will be re-blogging your gift to our blog for everyone to enjoy.  Make sure you have the tag EXOLSSECRETSANTA21 in your first 5 tags. 
 Make sure your blog’s ASK inbox is ON and TURN ON/allow anonymous asks.  
All the gifts must be NEW CONTENT.  Please do not recycle a previous fic, gif-sets, etc.
Fanfiction gifts must be 1K+ words. If it will be a WIP you must post the first chapter as your Gift.
Gif-sets: 4+ gifs
Fanart: 1+ 
Tumblr icons or headers : 4+ icons/headers
Edits: 4+ small pngs or 2+ large (540x?)
Playlists: 10+ songs
Mood boards: 2+ boards
Let’s all have some fun!! 
XO your Secret Santa moderator: @mel-loves-kdramas
199 notes · View notes
everlasting-stories · 3 years
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To Feel Again [M]
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Genre: light angst, romance
Warnings[!]: smut, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of adult toys
Pairing: Doyoung x Reader
Words: 4.4k / One-shot
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Valentine's Day: the day of roses and hearts and chocolates and romantic candlelit dinners. When people proposed marriage and professed undying love.
You sighed, staring unseeing into your bowl of cornflakes as they succumbed to their milky grave and turned to soggy goop. Funny how a date on a calendar could open the pit of despair that lived somewhere near your stomach. It had to be near your stomach. You've been reasonably hungry until you've noticed the date and the pit opened. Your hunger had fallen into it, and the memories and pain rose out of it.
There was a time when this day had been wonderful. Life had been wonderful, you didn't need Valentine's Day, but you celebrated it with reverence and, sometimes, wild abandon.
You knew what love was, what it felt like to love a man and how it felt to lose him. You remembered what he'd said that last morning, how he'd kissed you; how the sun had lit his face as he smiled, promising he'd be back. You also remembered the police, how the sun seemed to dim as they told you the phrases out of courtesy. They were sorry for your loss. They will let you know of details as soon as the investigation on the accident comes to an end.
Since that time, Valentine's Day had passed unheralded, unheeded and uncelebrated. You knew you were a joke of the office - entering thirties soon and never been fucked, that's what they said. The borning woman who had no idea what fun was, wouldn't have known what to do with a man if by some miracle you did catch the attention of one. They were wrong, of course. Not that it was any of their business; it certainly didn't affect your ability to do your job.
If you chose to act and dress your age and spend your evenings quietly, rather than as mutton dressed as lamb in some gaudy nightclub, surely that was your right?
You sighed again, getting up from the table, taking your cereal bowl and dumping the gloop down the sink. A bleak day of petty jibes and pitying looks lay ahead. At least you knew what to expect this year.
Last year had been your first Valentine's Day with this particular company and, therefore, your first with this particular bunch of malicious people - your fellow employees. As front counter receptionist, you were the company's first "public face" and some of your co-workers had decided it didn't look good if that face wasn't surrounded by gifts from admirers on this day.
When the first bunch of anonymous flowers had arrived, you've been flustered, flattered and flabbergasted that anyone would send you flowers. You had hurriedly cleared a space on the counter for them, proudly displaying them, fussing with them to show them off at their best and make them visible from the greatest distance. You kept touching them, moving them slightly, reaffirming they were really there. Your heart sang; someone had noticed you. Maybe he was too shy to reveal himself; maybe he was married and couldn't: your mind was alive with questions, trying to solve the mystery of their origin. You were all in all happy.
Then a large box of chocolates arrived, closely followed by more flowers. By lunchtime, these had been joined by a little plush cherub, two red plush love hearts, a pair of earrings, three more bunches of flowers, four assorted boxes of chocolates and a large jar of candy hearts. They all carried the same anonymous message. And you knew then and there what is the catch behind this.
By the end of the day there were nine flower arrangements, ten boxes of chocolates, three cherubs, the two red love hearts, three teddy bears, two jars of candy, the earrings and a gift box containing four pairs of edible undies. Just before the close of business the final humiliation came - a fantastically wrapped see through box containing an inflatable male doll with vibrating tongue, a massive purple vibrating dildo and a copy of the Sex for The Beginners book.
You had to stay at your post until the last visitor or client left. But the rest of the staff was already heading out of the building. Some boggled at your desk, some snickered, a couple made loud crass comments and a very few had appeared horrified at the pile of stuff surrounding yourself. The building had almost emptied before that last visitor departed. You were sure that, too, was a set-up, particularly when you saw it was the client that had been visiting quite frequently lately.
Myungsoo ushered the man to the street and turned back to you as you gathered your coat and handbag, ready to escape.
"Gee, you're a popular girl. Who would have thought?" He reached your counter and began collecting up the flowers, grinning madly. "Let me help you with all that."
Before you could say a word, he bundled all the flowers, chocolates and assorted other items into your arms. You could barely see where you were going. Myungsoo put his arm around your back and shepherded you out the door, peeking at the vibrator in its transparent box. "There you go, sweetheart. Looks like you're definitely gonna get some action tonight." He turned smartly away, laughing as he rapidly put distance between the two of you.
You obviously had thrown the whole lot in the nearest dumpster and hurried to the relative sanctuary of your car before breaking down and sobbing, burying your head in your hands to hide from prying eyes of curious passer-bys.
Standing at your kitchen sink, you wondered what they'd pull this year. It couldn't be worse, could it? You sighed again and then abruptly shook your head, standing straighter. To hell with it - you were not going to let them get to you today.
It had already begun when you arrived. A bouquet of irises sat at the front of the counter. You were tempted to throw them straight in the garbage, but decided they were too pretty, too unusual. So they stayed. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked at the card, expecting it to say something sappy and insincere, as last year's cards had.
"You are worth far more than they will ever realise. Hear the flowers."
You pondered the card. Hear the flowers?
What on earth did that mean? You raised an eyebrow as you settled into your post: at least it seemed this year would be more intriguing than last. During quiet moments throughout the morning, you'd pick up the card, reread the cryptic message and study the beautiful bouquet, but its secret was never revealed.
No gifts arrived for you, no more flowers. You were relieved, but it only served to deepen the mystery of the flowers. As your lunch hour approached, other staff began filtering out of their offices to take a break. They all noticed the irises. Several of the women stopped and commented on their beauty. No one laughed.
As always, you left the building for lunch. You would usually grab a sandwich somewhere and do a bit of window shopping. Anything to get away for an hour - if you stayed in the office, someone always "needed" you for something.
When you returned, a neatly typed page was on your desk: "The meaning of flowers". One line was highlighted in blue: "Iris: Have Faith. Don't Give Up On Hope." A single purple violet was pinned to the page. You scanned the page to find "Violet (Purple): You occupy my thoughts". You put the page to one side, but still in view, unsure whether to laugh at it and throw it along with the flowers away before the punch line or wait it out. This was definitely a far more sophisticated assault than last year.
Throughout the afternoon a steady procession of couriers arrived, carrying flowers and gifts. You nervously watched each one approach your counter, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the teddy bears and hearts, the chocolates and flowers were all destined for other souls.
At 4:30PM a man approached your station: nothing unusual in that; everyone that came to see someone had to check in with you. What was unusual was that he actually saw you as a fellow human, not a robot programmed to take names and give directions. He smiled at you, a real smile that reached his eyes and warmed your heart. Something familiar in his eyes...
"Good afternoon. My name is Kim Doyoung. I have an appointment to speak to Choi Myungsoo. Would you mind letting him know I am here, please?"
Quickly, you dialled Myungsoo's extension, giving him the information. Myungsoo, as usual was brusque to the point of rude, telling you to "entertain the idiot 'till I'm ready for him - he's not supposed to be here for another 15 minutes".
You were tempted to tell the polite gentleman exactly what Myungsoo had said, but instead used your tact and diplomacy (that was why you were hired after all) to tell him that "Mr. Choi is a little delayed. He will be available in a few minutes."
With that being said, you offered him a seat.
Again he smiled. "Those are beautiful flowers," he said, nodding towards the iris bouquet. "A discerning choice for a lovely lady."
You lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your face, knowing you were blushing.
His voice softened and became much quieter. "You don't remember me, do you?" Your eyes flew to his face, confused. Were you supposed to know this charming man?
"I had an appointment here at the same time, on this day last year. I was waiting outside for a taxi when you left. That was uncalled for, the whole situation that happened - mean and heartless and exactly what I would expect of Myungsoo and his friends. I deal with them only because I must. They offer a service unparalleled in this town."
He leaned across the counter, his voice so low only you could hear. "How they manage it, I cannot tell. They are pig swill and don't know a pearl when confronted with one." Doyoung paused, seeming to weigh up his next statement, then leaned closer to you. "Did you hear the flowers?"
Your eyes again flew to his face, your mouth falling open a little. "You sent them?"
"I did. And the violet. I had hoped to counter whatever crass display they had planned this year. Would you possibly consider spending the evening with me?" His face was eager, hopeful. "A nice dinner?"
You were stunned, flattered, amazed - but also wary. This was Myungsoo's client. He could easily have been put up to this. You studied his face closely, seeking any hint of a lurking cad. His face fell. "But, of course, you have other plans. I apologise for embarrassing you." He moved away and sat, abashed, on one of the hideous lounge chairs to await his appointment.
You studied this man. He didn't seem to fit the mould of Myungsoo's usual cohorts. For one thing he was unerringly polite. He was also good looking, very, very good looking, without being outstanding or flashy. He was also much closer to your age than Myungsoo's and had an air of quiet confidence, like he had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to fear from them either. You looked at the flowers. Could Myungsoo have possibly thought of something this elegant? You didn't think so. You took a deep breath: to hell with it.
"Mr. Kim?" He looked up. "What time would you like to pick me up?"
In your bedroom, staring at the clothes hanging limply in your closet, the cool bravado that had claimed you as you agreed to the date vanished. In its place indecision, doubt and outright terror took hold. It seemed painfully obvious to you now, away from the office and that lovely man, that it was all another twisted joke, something for the office beautiful people to laugh at during tomorrow's coffee breaks. Why did you say yes? Your wardrobe was woefully inadequate. It was years since you'd been out with a man; you were bound to make a fool of yourself, even if it wasn't a set-up.
At that thought your heart jumped and lurched. The possibility that Mr. Kim - no, Doyoung; this was a date not a business appointment - was sincere in his wish to take you out only heightened your confusion and indecision.
Finally, in desperation and the realisation that if you didn't decide soon, you'd still be in your underwear when he arrived; you chose a chanel-knee length cremé skirt and baby pink cashmere sweater, topped off with knee length boots. The heels were quite high, but you remembered him being tall, so that wouldn't be an issue, as long as you didn't fall over in them.
You were saved from an overcritical examination in the mirror. You had just completed applying your makeup when Doyoung arrived. You grabbed your coat and quickly walked out the door, before you had time to rethink and back out.
"You look lovely," Doyoung said, smiling down at you. Feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks; you weren't used to receiving compliments, particularly from someone like him. You mumbled a shy thanks as he helped you put on your coat and led you to his car.
Sitting in the car as he drove, you were able to study the mysterious man that is Kim Doyoung. He was extremely handsome, not in the classical sense, but he certainly was far from a plain looking man - a man at peace with himself. He knew who he was and was content with that; he knew what he wanted and how to get it; and what was beyond his capabilities and lost no sleep over it. He obviously managed quite well; his car was expensive but not too flashy.
The restaurant he took you too was a quiet small place, away from the standard eat-and-entertain strip. It was intimate without claustrophobia; the decor was elegant without being overbearing; the lighting low but not dim; the service attentive without being intrusive. The food you could not describe - later, you barely remembered what you had eaten beyond it being "nice" - your attention was totally taken by Doyoung.
He was gallant and charming; helping you with your coat and holding your chair for you at the intimate table for two tucked away in a corner. Doyoung quietly suggested items on the menu he thought you might like. It was obvious he'd been here before, was a regular, but usually without company. His choice of wine was perfect to go with the excellent food as you enjoyed each other's company.
And you talked.
You learned a lot about him. Doyoung was 34, older than you had thought; he had been engaged, but his fiancé decided to break off the engagement for simply falling out of love. He had had a series of short term relationships that had petered out and, for the past several years, had lived a solitary life, rarely going out with women. He didn't work as such; his livelihood came from investments, which explained him being a client of the company you worked in. Myungsoo may be a jerk, but he was the one of the best investment brokers around.
He had been attracted to you the first time he met you, a year ago, but had been intimidated by the evidence of all your admirers. When he realised it was all a cruel joke played by his adviser and the other brokers, he was mortified. He had seriously considered changing brokers, going to another organisation but that would have meant he had no chance of meeting you again. So he stayed. He had been in your office on three occasions since then, and each time had seen your quiet, unflappable charm and how your talent and lovely nature were either ignored or taken for granted by those around you. He was determined to gain your attention, but without the office cricus freaks being able to use it against you, hence the mystery flower delivery this morning.
You found yourself opening up to Doyoung. He seemed sincerely interested in hearing what you had to say, hanging on your every word. It was a liberating and wonderfully powerful feeling. You weren't used to being the centre of anyone's attention. You told him of your pride at the independence since the loss of your lover, all those years ago. You were happy in your little home, content with your work, rarely coming to the attention of the office jokers.
It was over coffee that you admitted to Doyoung something you haven't admitted to yourself: your life was lonely and you missed the affection of another person. You missed the companionship of sharing your life with someone.
Immediately after the words had left your lips you regretted them. You have given away too much of yourself, been too forward. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the closed expression you knew would be on his face, so you didn't see the fleeting look of pain, quickly followed by understanding and hope.
However, you did feel his hand close over yours and squeeze lightly. You looked up into a face of gentle eyes and soft smile. "Would you like to take a walk with me," he said quietly. "I think it's time we leave - they want to close the restaurant anyway."
You looked around yourself noticing that you two were the only people other than staff left in the restaurant, and many of the lights were dimmed. You gasped in wonder - you had no idea you've been there so long. "Yes, a walk would be lovely."
Doyoung ushered you along the street and across a small, neat park to a promenade along the riverbank. It was enough lit to feel safe and you walked along arm in arm. You felt his arm snake around your waist hugging you closer to him, and you snuggled against him, your arm around his back. The moon was up, the stars were out and the night was peaceful and clear.
Your heart was singing and your eyes sparkled. You've been right to take this gamble. He was sincere, and it was wonderful. But the night was late, and it was rather cold.
You shivered. Doyoung felt it immediately and turned off the promenade proposing to head back toward the street where he had left the car. "I'd better take you home. It wouldn't be much of a date if you ended up ill."
At your door, Doyoung formally thanked you for a lovely evening and asked if he could see you again. You smiled and surprised yourself only a little by reaching up and kissing him lightly on the lips before saying: "Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"
Doyoung blinked, looking mildly bemused for a moment before studying your face. "Are you sure?"
Oh, most definitely, you were sure. You have thought of nothing else since you two have left the river. He looked right, he felt right, and he smelt right. You wanted him but was sure he'd never make a move. He was too much of a gentleman to ever force the issue.
You took his hand and led him into your home, kicking the door closed with your foot, shutting out the rest of the world with its mean people and ugly attitudes. You reached up to kiss him again. This time he lowered his head to yours, cradling your face in his hands as he returned the kiss. The lips met and parted, allowing the tongues to join and caress each other. His hands moved down from your face to caress your body, yours moving up from his hips. Both of you parted, searching each other's faces for confirmation of your desires.
"I think we're on the same page," you said. "Why don't you leave your coat on the couch? Do you want the nightcap now, or after the tour?"
"I'll put a hold on the nightcap," Doyoung answered, reading the desire in your eyes and knowing it was mirrored in his while stripping off the coat.
"Right."
You took his hand again. "This is the lounge. There," you pointed to the right, "is the kitchen and dining room. This way," pulling him down the hall, "is the second bedroom, the bathroom and," dragging him through a doorway, "here is the main bedroom."
"Very nice," he said, looking around, trying not to focus on the bed.
Suddenly shy, you both looked at anything but each other, awkward in a lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Doyoung tentatively reached out a hand to you, aiming to caress your breast, veering off at the last moment to your shoulder, but still lightly brushing your breast with his fingertips. Your gasped breath emboldened him and he reached his other hand, caressing your other breast lightly as you shivered under his touch and sighed.
Your own hands went to his chest, running down the front of his shirt and back up, then beginning to undo the buttons, pulling the shirt from his trousers and teasing his bare skin with your fingers.
Doyoung pulled his shirt off and then raised the sweater over your head and off the arms, moving in to kiss you as his hands went around your back to undo the clasps of a bra and returned to cup your breasts. The sensation on your breasts as he caressed and pinched the nipples sent a sharp message straight between your legs. You could feel yourself becoming moist and shuddered under his touch; breath becoming uneven.
Pushing him away you removed the skirt, letting it pool at your feet while looking into his eyes. Doyoung took the hint and began unbuckling his belt, then grinned foolishly and sat beside you to take off his socks, sneaking kisses of your neck and shoulders as he did so. You both stood again, slightly apart. He dropped his trousers and you could see his briefs pushed out of shape by his erection, the fabric straining.
Doyoung stepped up, taking you in his arms, kissing down your neck and across the collarbone, his hands lowering to your hips, sliding under the elastic and beginning to tug your panties down. Your own hands flew to the top of his briefs. Together, you pulled down the underwear, stepping out of them and standing naked before each other. Again Doyoung moved first, holding you and gently pushing backwards onto the bed, following after you onto it.
He ran one hand down the body of yours, teasing and tickling the beginning of your womanhood and beyond, teasing you with his fingers, tickling across your mound and easing around your damp centre. You moaned as he explored, your hips twisting and twitching. It had been so long since another man had touched you there. It felt amazing, wonderful, but achingly short of what you needed. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Reaching down, you took his cock into your hand. It was hot, hard and pulsed under your touch. Doyoung groaned and his hips jerked convulsively. You kissed him hard and whispered fiercely, "Please, it's been too long. I need you, now."
"For me too, far too long," Doyoung gasped back, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself before gently splitting your lips and sliding steadily but firmly into you. Your moans were prominent in the air as he stretched and filled you right, not stopping his steady thrust until he was wholly inside you, your warm walls gripping him tightly. Your eyes met and locked as you lay still, immersed in the feeling of each other's body.
Being warm, wet and a safe haven, you were engulfing his cock. Doyoung was filling you with his hard heat, owning your body completely. You fit each other perfectly; you could see it in each other's eyes. You belonged together.
As great as this feeling was, you needed more. Doyoung slowly withdrew, till only the very tip split you. Both groaning as he pushed back in, again slowly feeling each other with delectable inch. Slowly in and out, in and out, revelling in the feeling of each other's bodies, gradually building up speed as your need increased.
You could feel the fire building, the tension increasing as sensation on sensation smashed into you with each thrust, your body twitching, your hips writhing. Still it built; higher, tighter, fiercer. Your entire being was wrapped around Doyoung's cock as it pumped in and out of you. You could hear him grunting with each thrust, feel his body trembling as he got closer to his climax. His speed increased and you breath got caught in your throat, your back arched, legs went stiff as you began to twitch when the white light exploded through you, spreading warmth and scattering your senses.
You felt, from far away but deep within you, Doyoung losing his rhythm before coming, pumping wildly into you, grunting and thrusting hard one last time as he shot deep inside you feeling spent but overly fulfilled.
Your hand was making lazy circles on Doyoung's chest as you lay, curled against his side with a head on his shoulder. You weren't sure how you've come to be in this position, but it felt so right and he smelled so good.
You were at peace while drifting off to sleep.
Waking up without feeling body by your side, you immediately felt the loss. Doyoung wasn't there. Your heart dropped, the pit near your stomach threatened to open and engulf it. Sensing the tears coming up, you accidentally feel something on your side with a hand.
He wasn't there. But there was a note.
"I am so sorry. I hate to leave you, knowing you will wake alone. There is something I must do."
You had just finished reading when the phone rang, disturbing your thoughts. Grudgingly, you moved to answer it. "Hello."
"Wish I was still beside you."
Your heart flipped again. The pit dissolved so you could breathe again before whispering, "Doyoung."
"Y/N. Tell me, what are you planning for breakfast?"
"Uhm. Coffee? Maybe some toast. Why?"
"Don't move. I'm on my way. With breakfast. And it's better than toast."
You lay back in bed, listening to the dial tone after he hung up. Surprised, you smile softly. You must remember to thank Myungsoo for introducing them.
If this is how you will feel loved and feel free to love again, you have no complaints.
Your new chapter is about to begin and hopefully, it will last for a very long time with a man named Kim Doyoung.
243 notes · View notes
djarrex · 2 years
Text
From Where We Stand
Chapter 1: Fool's Gold
Post-Stasis!Kix x f!OC
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Chapter Rating: M
Word Count: about 7k
Warnings: language, mild violence
Chapter Summary: The Crimson Corsair's pirate crew follows a tip that was supposed to lead them to a lost treasure hidden onboard a fifty-year-old wreckage, but what they find instead of kyber crystals shocks them all.
Note: thank you @rowansparrow for being my beta buddy and placing their incredible eyes upon this! I hope you all enjoy the series intro. You'll find some similarities between this chapter and book The Crimson Corsair and the Lost Treasure of Count Dooku, so credits to the author Landry Q. Walker for the some of the deets :')
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While she’s kicked back nursing a glass of her favorite amber liquid, Ahri’s other crewmates are scattered about the cantina. The captain is sitting with Quiggold in a booth opposite of the noise, more than likely going over the crew’s next move instead of relaxing and letting loose. Reeg is barely attending to his own drink by himself at the empty corner of the bar, sitting hunched forward on the rickety stool while tinkering with an old transmitter he’d picked up in town the day prior. Reveth is on the dance floor, grinding against some horny Devaronian who definitely won’t be getting lucky tonight, despite what he may be thinking; Rev is quite the tease, but she enjoys having fun when not stuck on the Martinet - their home. The remaining two crewmates - Pendewqell and Squeaky - are entraining rounds of sabacc with a couple of greedy looking Rodians sitting across them.
“Hey, Ahri! Come play a round and show these guys how it’s done, eh?” Pen calls out to the redhead. She simply smiles and shakes her head dismissively, holding up her half-full glass to swirl around in their line of sight.
The cantina the group had selected to hold up in for the day was quite the choice. It's more lively than literally any other place on this desert planet known as Ponemah Terminal with a band playing upbeat tunes in the corner, rounds of sabacc being dealt in the opposite corner, and the dance floor half crowded with various sentients - all but human. Ahri stands out like a sore thumb - even when up against her captain, Sidon Ithano, who dons crimson robes that cover most of his body with an intimidating red plasteel mask to top it off.
“Not this time, fellas. Just wanna relax and drink up.”
Ahri was quite the sabacc player, though she pins that down on her ability to hold luck in the palm of her hand. Everyone brings something different to the crew; luck, among other useful things, such as her limited medical knowledge, is what Ahri offers.
“Hey, come listen to this,” the triangular-headed Arcona still sitting by his lonesome at the bar calls over his shoulder to the rest of his crew. Ahri drops her legs from the table to the ground, her boots hitting the stone floor with a thud as she signals a round-up at the two playing sabacc nearest her. Only when all members of the crew have made their way to the bar does Reeg continue.
“This ol’ thing just picked up a transmission, dating back fifty years.”
The Gabdorin first-mate opens his wide mouth first. “Well? What’s it sayin’, Reeg?”
“It’s being relayed from something that goes by... ‘B1-CC14′? A droid of some kind by the sound of it. It’s a distress signal coming from a cruiser called the Obrexta III.”
The old man wiping the counter with an extremely dirty rag suddenly halts and shuffles over to where the group’s gathered at the bar, leaning in close after scanning each of their very different faces with bloodshot eyes. The feisty red Twi’lek member glares at him, about to ask him what his problem is, but he interjects with a gummy grin.
“I’ve heard that name before... that cruiser.” All eyes turn to the old bartender as he rubs his skinny, wrinkly fingers against his thumb, signaling the need for some sort of payment for the following information he has to offer. With a roll of her eyes, Ahri tosses a few credits across the counter, reassuringly placing her hand on Sidon’s cloaked shoulder as they all lean in close when the old man starts to open his mouth.
“Heard it crashed here way back at the end of the Clone Wars... somethin’ ‘bout containin’ the lost treasure of one of the political heads of the time. Dooku, I think’s the name.”
Treasure.
That’s the one word a group of pirates needs to hear.
A few pairs of eyes light up upon hearing the magic word, but the more cautions among them simply raise their brows - incredulous. Quiggold shakes his cloaked and rounded head ever so slightly as a sign to take caution - the captain nodding in agreement at his first-mate.
“How many have you told of this cruiser and treasure?” Quiggold inquires at the hunchback bartender, stepping closer and pressing his stubby body into the counter.
The old man is quick to reply with widened eyes and a sly smile, “If they’re willin’ to pay for the information, it’s theirs.”
“Captain.” Ahri pulls the crew’s leader to the side before speaking so only he can hear, “We can’t be the only ones to know about this wreckage. It’s been what, five decades since it crashed here on Ponemah? I’m sure hundreds upon hundreds have tried to find the treasure, so who knows if it’s even still there?" She pauses - her eyes flickering to the few pairs of prying ones coming from the other end of the cantina. "There’s those giant sand worms out there, too, not to mention the difficult terrain. I think it’s too risky, Sid.” Ahri peers over to her other crewmates who seem to be preoccupied with yapping with the bartender, save for Pen, who's now strutting over to the two of them.
“Captain, I think we should go for it. Bartender just said there’s kyber crystals on board, and maybe even a lightsaber. The cruiser belonged to a sith lord, sir. You know how much we can get on the black market for those crystals?”
Ahri not-so-discreetly scoffs and shakes her head, narrowing her eyes at the overly-eager Ishi Tib.
“The wreckage has been there since the end of the Clone Wars, Pen. Who’s to say the crystals haven’t already been scooped up?” Her eyes land on the captain once again, “Sid... it’s your call. I know we can handle anything that comes our way... I just think the journey itself is far too dangerous for the slim chance that there’s actually something worthwhile within that dated wreckage.”
It’s silent between the three for a long moment; though it’s difficult for anyone else to read Sidon since he’s very well-hidden underneath the mask, Ahri knows him well enough now to figure almost exactly what he’s thinking. Captain Sidon Ithano is a man of very few words; he relies heavily on his crewmates to translate his thoughts and anticipate his desires, but will speak if absolutely needed. Ahri can read Sidon like an ancient text scribbled on some flimsi, more so than the rest of the crew, but probably tying with their first-mate.
With a disappointed sigh, she shakes her head, already knowing his answer by his silent stance. Sidon finally nods, and Pen claps his hands excitedly - the rest of the crew cheering under their breaths once they catch sight of the exuberant Ishi Tib practically skipping his way back to them.
“Fine,” she mumbles, heading back over to the others behind the captain. Kicking the ground and tossing the old man behind the bar another couple of credits, she sighs again. “Alright, barkeep. Where’s this wreckage?”
“Southern Region. S’all I know.”
This time, Ahri laughs. “Let me guess, in the middle of the fucking Sea of Sand, right?” The bartender tugs his thin lips into a creepy smile, nodding with an amused huff. The defeated redhead turns back to her crewmates, speaking to the captain in particular. “Can’t even get there flying the Martinet. We’ll need a sail barge to get there.”
The Sea of Sand - quite appropriately named - is plagued by lightning storms, magma geysers, and 15-meter waves of caustic sand that act as Ponemah’s sea. Even the crew’s ship, the Meson Martinet, a heavily modified CSS-1 Corellian Star Shuttle, is no match for that terrain.
And the crew knows this.
Sidon nods before turning his attention back towards the old man who had resumed wiping the bar, clearly satisfied with the amount of credits he’d acquired just from entertaining a group of desperate pirates. The Corsair coughs once, quickly gaining the attention of the old man.
“A sail barge.”
The rarely used, deeply modulated voice coming from the captain always makes Ahri shudder - but not from fear.
<<<>>> 
The Shrike.
Ahri knows she isn’t the only one who's on the fence about this expedition. The crew’s first-mate, Quiggold, is a very wise Gabdorin who always thinks ahead, usually correcting his crewmates in a smart-ass “told you so” kind of way when something would happen as he predicted it would. With some of the more… eager pirates who are a part of the crew, Quiggold’s sarcasm hardly goes unused. 
In this instance, Pendewqell is who's on the receiving end of the first-mate’s lecturing.
About an hour into the journey, Quiggold begins scolding Pen, going on about how it was foolish of the Ishi Tib to use his power of persuasion to push the captain into leading the crew into such an unsure and dangerous hunt. Ahri agrees with Quiggold wholeheartedly, but had already tried voicing her opinions; she knows Sidon is stubborn as all hells, and is not one to change his mind once it's made up. Reveth always goes with the flow, never once complaining, especially if a mission should involve some sort of action; she's quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat, as is Ahri, but Rev prefers using melee weapons - specifically favoring her daggers. Squeaky’s also not one to complain at his captain’s orders, and is always ready to step in if blasters start firing - always ready to block shots aimed at his crewmates with his thick green skin. Reeg is probably the only other crewmate as hesitant as both Ahri and Quiggold are, but keeps his reptilianoid mouth shut and puts his focus on manning the heavy guns onboard the sail barge if it comes down to needing them.
For as dangerous and harsh as Ponemah’s terrain is, the sunsets sure are beautiful. Flecks of purple and pink stretch across the orange and yellow sky, providing a sense of calmness to Ahri, allowing her nerves to relax as she watches the single sun lower beyond the horizon to the west as they head south. Her fellow crewmates are finally quiet, seeming to also be mesmerized by the lowering sun and the explosion of beautiful colors rising in its wake.
It’s the calm before the storm.
“We’ve got a problem!” Rev shouts as her metal finger points to the north; all heads snap to the rear of the barge, trying to see what she's referring to. Ahri squints her eyes, not yet able to make out what had made Rev shout.
“What is it-?”
Blaster shots hit the rear of the sail barge, sending it into a little wobbly wave. All members onboard the Shrike quickly enter their battle positions, the same motions they practice when a seemingly simple heist goes awry. Ahri shakes her head, cursing under her breath. Looking over at the captain, she notices how calm he seems to be as he doesn't make an attempt to duck or secure his blaster. He just stands there at the rear of the barge, looking off to the north where the blasts had just come from.
“Captain!” Pen calls out from his cover. “What are you doing?”
“Who is that, sir?” Reeg calls while firing shots off into the open. More blasts sail to the north as little explosions pop through the darkening horizon in the distance. Ahri ducks behind a storage crate and grabs hold of her own blaster, popping off shots in the direction of the others. Through her peripheral she keeps an eye on Sidon, anxious at his clear state of insouciance.
“An old friend.”
Ahri hears those three, deeply modulated words even over the sound of shots being fired back and forth, and it dawns on her.
Scorza and the Gray Gundarks.
‘An old friend’ is right.
Quiggold had told Ahri of the crew their captain had been a part of long before this one, where he had earned the name 'Crimson Corsair'. The notorious thief had caught the attention of the Weequay pirate named Scorza, and was invited to join the crew. Sidon spent several years partaking in heists, hunts, and even bounty hunting. Of those things, Ahri couldn’t believe the latter; as she knows Sidon, he never has been one to get his hands dirty with living beings, rather have his crewmates take care of what they would like to call casualties of a successful treasure hunt. Ahri herself would never kill - not unless her life or her fellow crewmates’ truly depended on it - but Squeaky, Reeg, and especially Rev would always step up to the plate and get their hands dirty if need be.
As for Sidon and his former crew? Things didn’t exactly end on a positive note all those years ago. And now it seems as though the swoope biker gang has been discreetly tailing the Shrike since they'd left that damn cantina.
That fucking greedy bartender.
After several, long minutes that honestly felt like they could have translated to hours, the rival pirate gang is taken out - some of the credit going to the randomly-erupting magma geysers that litter the terrain. Most of the credit, however, goes to Reeg, who had maintained steady shots until taking the brunt of a rapid-fire from a member of the Gray Gundarks, knocking him overboard to be swallowed by the caustic sea. Rev quickly went to man the guns, but the last few blasts Reeg had managed to fire had successfully blown the remaining bikers into pieces.
A majority of the crew is left feeling a little uneasy after losing one of their own. Reeg was extremely knowledgeable with weapons and prided himself with having the most accurate shot of the seven, and held up to that until his last breath. When Ahri had first joined the crew, Reeg was the one to show her the ropes; showed her how to assemble and disassemble various blasters, how to clean them, how to shoot accurately. Before joining a bunch of pirates, Ahri had never so much as even held a blaster in her hands, but Reeg was there to guide her. Throughout the five or so years that Ahri had been a part of their strange little family, Reeg would correct her stance or technique every now and then - the little things that she appreciated.
Now he’s gone, just like that.
“What do we do now?” Squeaky grunts out, looking back and forth at the faces of despair being shared among his crewmates - exhausted bodies slouched against the wooden planks lining the interior of the barge.
“What do you mean? We keep going. We’re pirates, Squeaky,” Pen says bluntly.
Pirates.
Ahri scoffs under her breath, upset yet not at all surprised by Pen’s caviler attitude. 
Pirates who had just lost one of their own.
“Somethin’ to say, Little Red?” Pen’s yellow eyes narrow at Ahri, hands on his hips. 
“Actually.” Standing up from her spot, she exhales deep, mirroring his stance. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. That’s all you have to say? That we’re ‘pirates’?” Ahri turns her head to face each member one at a time, pausing at Sidon’s expressionless mask before returning to stare daggers at Pen - sharper than the ones lining Rev’s belt. “We just lost Reeg, for fucks sake! He was one of us, had been for years, and you’re acting as if it doesn’t matter that he’s gone!”
“Sit your tiny ass down,” he chides. “I never said that, Little Red.”
“Don’t call me that,” Ahri spits at him. “You’re an asshole, Pen. Greedy, even for a fucking pirate. I knew this was a bad idea, and look what happened!” 
“Whatever happened, happened. We need to see this through,” Pen reasons with a huff as he walks towards her, waving his hand towards the south. “Besides, we’re nearly there.”
“And how do you know that?” Ahri extends a hand and jams her tanned, slender pointer finger into the amphibian’s chest. “How do we know we weren’t blown off course when we were fired at? Is anyone here even fucking navigating this thing?”
“I am, Ahri, and I believe we are still on course.” Quiggold enters the space between the pair, lightly grasping Ahri’s finger and removing it from Pen’s sternum. With a huff, she crosses her arms over her chest, knowing that if anyone here were to remain level-headed through this entire thing, it’d be Quigg.
The crew then falls silent, defaulting into taking turns getting some shut-eye as the barge sails on - the moon steadily rising over the horizon. Ahri’s anger towards Pen and the situation itself keeps her awake for the most part as she goes over what she could have done back at the cantina in order to persuade Sidon into saying no to Pen. Reeg would still be alive, and the silent yet mutual ire shared among the crew would be nonexistent. 
Another couple of hours go by of the sandy breeze blowing through the wisps falling from the braid of Ahri’s long, burnt sienna hair as she drifts in and out of a half-assed sleep. The times her eyes are open and aware of what’s going on around her, the differing snoring volumes coming from that of her sleeping crewmates puts her at ease. It’s the sound of family - peaceful, non-speaking and non-bickering family. She tries to find Sidon through her hooded eyes, but he’s just out of her sight, steering the Shrike. Turning her head a little more to the left she spots his cape blowing in the breeze as he stands tall at the wheel, and she smiles.
Restless, as usual. 
“There,” Quiggold calls from over his shoulder - Ahri shooting forward and the others follow. The captain moves to the edge of the barge, the rest of the crew slowly waking up and doing the same. Sure enough as foretold, there sits a grounded star cruiser, half swallowed by the surrounding blanket of sand.
With the sky dark and the solo moon only halfway up in the sky, Quiggold passes out the stored torches to the others. As the crew disembarks the sail barge and steps closer to the wreckage, they come across an airlock at the exterior of the cruiser. They’d come prepared with rebreathers, taking an educated guess as to what harmful gases could be leaking through an old wreckage such as this one. Rummaging through an abandoned ship isn’t exactly new to the pirates, but never had they ever boarded one as old as the one that lies half-buried before them.
After strapping on the rebreathers, Squeaky tugs the airlock open and the crew cautiously steps aboard. It was a good thing they came prepared, because bodies of other pirates and gang members lay scattered about the corridor, most likely having fallen victim to the durilliam gasses that had slowly been leaking through the ship over the course of the last five decades.
“Poor suckers,” Pen chuckles with a tsk as he steps over the bodies. Turning the corner to the next corridor the group encounters deactivated droids littering the durasteel flooring, laying just as dead as the bodies they’d just passed.
“Look at all of these battle droids.” Ahri steps over each one as if one small nudge to the wrong droid would be the crew’s ultimate demise. “Where do we head first?”
“This way, to the bridge.” Quiggold motions for the others to follow - the crew taking their time stepping over the countless deactivated droids and the dead bodies of fellow but unlucky, unprepared pirates. It isn’t long before they reach the bridge - the bodies and droids’ numbers thinning out as they cross the final corridor.
“Are we sure this is safe? Didn’t an ion storm come through this area not too long ago?” Ahri looks around the bridge, closely studying the fallen droids that had once controlled this very ship, making her way to the control panel to scan the computer for any clues.
“So?” With a nonexistent eyebrow raised, Pen places his hands on his hips.
“So...” Rev rolls her eyes, chiming in with a shake of her head. “Storms like that have electromagnetic impulses and can cause deactivated droids such as these ones to reactivate. All these battle droids need is a little bit of juice, and I’m afraid they have it already, so we should make this as quick as possible.”
Ahri searches the ship’s inventory and log, finding something noteworthy after a minute of scrolling.
“A vault!” she calls. “C’mon, we should get moving before they have a chance to wake up with us onboard.” Ahri steps back from the computer and glances over at their captain before heading towards the ajar door to exit the bridge. The captain nods in agreement, a hand over his blaster in preparation as he slides to the lead. The rest of the crew keeps cautious hands brushed over their holsters - Rev scraping a long fingernail over one of her daggers.
With the captain and Ahri taking point, they steadily race through the crashed cruiser in search of anything that looks valuable or like it would contain anything of any worth on their way to the vault. The droids could wake up any moment, or they could remain out of power for another month, or year. No one knows, but it's best to keep haste and remain cautious and aware of the potential threat.
After several minutes of stepping in and out of darkened corridors, a heavy, fortified door comes into view - the vault Ahri had seen in the ship’s computer.
“Well something has to be behind such an impressive door,” Pen gleams. 
Anger subsiding while getting a little more eager, Ahri turns to the muscle. “Squeaky, are you able to open it?”
The Gamorrean brushes past the others - cracking his neck and knuckles with a grin. With all his strength he tries, but deflated, they realize it’s going to take a lot more than just muscle to open this vault’s doors. Next up is Rev, who tries her luck with bypassing the security to access the dead controls, but that doesn't work either.
“I brought a few small explosives, just in case.” Ahri pulls a couple sticky detonators from her belt, slapping them onto the durasteel. “Stand back now,” she turns and waves the rest to join. “Hopefully this works!” The group jogs backwards and takes cover behind scattered storage crates, covering their ears as the detonators go off. The ship’s floor vibrates beneath them, but they aren’t paying too much attention to that right about now - the sturdy door now busted wide open.
“Nice, Ahr!” With her flesh arm, Rev slaps Ahri on the back and offers a sharp, toothy grin before joining the others as they run towards the now open vault. Sidon stays behind for a moment, cocking his head to the side at her.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Ahri jests - placing a hand up on his shoulder. “I’m kidding, Sid. Let’s go see what’s in this mysterious vault, shall we?” Wordlessly he nods, and follows the increasingly excited redhead towards the vault to join the others. By the time she approaches the threshold of the vault, the others are dead silent. The single, flickering overhead light in the crowded vault casts a spotlight on a cryo-cycle stasis pod that stands almost upright in the corner. The transparisteel lining the face of the exterior front of the pod is colored a foggy blue and the low hissing sound of the steam escaping the cracks leads the crew to believe that there is something of value in there, encased within.
Squeaky barely fits inside the cramped vault with the others, but moves past them to see what's going on while Ahri leans over the pod and presses her face into it, trying to make out what's inside.
“I see… a face? I think?”
A loud grunt of frustration comes from Pen - the first one to audibly exclaim his annoyance. “A person? That is definitely not kyber crystals! I don’t see anything else in this Maker forsaken vault!”
Rev, slightly annoyed but not one for losing hope, looks around the casing of the pod for a way to open it. “Whatever - whoever - is inside this thing has to be valuable since it’s locked within this vault, right?”
Quiggold shakes his large head in disbelief, turning to the captain for any semblance of guidance, a next move, anything. Sidon remains stoic at the rear, his blaster now in hand.
“Reveth, can you awaken the pod?” Quiggold calmly asks her. The Twi nods, getting right to work on the control panel at the bottom edge of the stasis chamber once she spots it. Steam begins hissing out of the chamber - even louder and with more vigor than before - as it unlatches with a loud snap. Rev and Ahri are nearest, already leaning in closer to catch a glimpse of what lies within.
Ahri gasps - muscles fluttering in her torso.
“What the fuck...”
A man covered in an almost full set of white plastoid armor accented in blue designs emerges from the pod, already coughing up a lung as soon as the fog settles. Ahri’s emerald eyes widen as the man doubles forward, clutching his abdomen and panting heavily. She steps back in pure shock, bumping right into Squeaky.
Ahri can’t help but fixate on the man’s face - the sharp curve of his defined cheekbones, the strong jaw and brow, the shape of his-
The man’s eyes snap open as he gasps out, “Wh-where am I? Who are you? I- I need to get to General Skywalker... now!”
“Whoa whoa, who is this guy?” Squeaky towers over the group, looking back and forth between a wide-eyed Ahri, Rev, and the man they had just awoken from stasis. Rev reaches for the man in an attempt to help him stand, but in the same breath he starts flailing his arms to push himself out of the chamber, consequently knocking Rev right in her jaw.
“Get away- away from me! Separatists… you- you...”
“What the fuck is he going on about?” Rev asks as she rubs at the curve of her chin, Ahri moving in front of her and caressing her cheek to examine her bruising jaw around the lining of the rebreather. 
“I don’t know, but we need to get a rebreather on him," Ahri firmly suggests. "No sense of letting him die from this poisonous gas, and we… we have a spare." Her voice softens at the last few words - pressing her lips into a thin line.
Pen steps back, away from the chaos ensuing near the awakened pod with their fallen crewmate’s rebreather in hand, shaking his head and scolding under his breath. “No, no, this isn’t right! Where are the crystals? The lightsaber?”
The armored man’s eyelids begin to flutter - his words trailing off into a mumble as he continues, “I need t- to save the Republic... need to tell the General...”
“Quick, Pen! Get Reeg’s mask on him, now!” Ahri paces back in front of the man, carefully reaching towards him in an attempt to check his vitals. Grabbing him by the clothed spaces between his pauldrons and rerebraces, she wiggles his freezing cold body the best she can with how heavy he is of muscle and plastoid combined, trying to keep his attention as his panting slows.
“Hey! Can you hear me? You need to calm down.” 
Just as Pen goes to attach the rebreather on the frantic man, he, too, is knocked in the face by a strong, gauntleted hand. Ahri manages to hide a grin, internally chuckling at how he’d just gotten struck in the face by this man.
“No! I need to get t-to Skywalker... the- the chips...” The man’s voice trails off as he slumps forward; Ahri’s grip on his shoulders tightens as he abruptly slips into unconsciousness - all his dead weight falling on to her.
“Get the rebreather on him, Pen! Hurry!”
Placing the mask on the man’s face is easier now that he's unable to swing his arms, but the crew isn’t sure if they did it in time. Pushing his body back against the lining of the pod and catching her breath, Ahri looks at the faces of her crewmates, stopping at Sidon. He's furthest back, silent and observing, just as usual, his arms crossed against his chest and blaster tucked between. Ahri feels Sidon’s confusion and disappointment just by observing his body language; she knows their captain is angry with Pen, but mostly at himself for bringing his crew to partake in this worthless hunt.
What are they supposed to do now, with this once again unconscious, mysterious, unfrozen man?
“Is he...” Rev arches forward, rubbing at her jaw while examining the man’s limp, armored figure. Ahri motions for someone to lay him down - Pen rises to the occasion - as she kneels down to check his pulse and the rest of his body for any noticeable injuries between the gaps of his hard, exterior shell.
“...He's alive.” Ahri lets out a heavy sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from her brow and glancing at her crewmates. All gazes are glued to the nameless man who’s now stretched against the durasteel floor - Ahri’s gaze a little more intense than the rest.
“Captain, what should w-”
The first-mate’s request for orders is cut off as the ship begins to rumble beneath their feet - the quake rattling the metal walls and rumbling through the levels below them.
They aren't out of danger yet, and they’d almost forgotten about the potential threat through all this.
“We need to get out of here. Right now.” Speaking for Sidon, Ahri punctuates her order by sending pleading eyes the captain’s way, to which he replies with his signature, simple nod. Squeaky concludes that he is going to be the one to carry the unconscious man, kneeling down to swing him over his wide shoulder. As the rest of the team turns to head out of the vault, Pen stays put - letting out a frustrated huff as his arms fly in the air.
“But what about the-”
“Fuck the crystals! We need to go!” Ahri shouts at him from over her shoulder.
Hands once again secured on his hips, Pen stays glued to his spot.
“Pen?” The caboose of the crew, Rev halts and spins around, waving for the stubborn Ishi Tib to follow.
“I’m finding these damn crystals!” He pauses, turning on his heels and looking off towards an unexplored corridor - torch shining at it.
Rev shakes her head at him in disbelief as he darts the opposite way, shutting her eyes and sighing in frustration before running to catch up with her more level-headed crewmates. 
As they near the same airlock that they had entered through, they notice that the durasteel floors look a little more naked than before - only the bodies of slowly decaying sentients lay scattered about. 
“Guys…” Ahri’s brows pinch together as she looks around. “Where did the droids go?”
“They must’ve reactivated,” Rev informs. “Fuck.”
“We must go,” Sidon stresses with a nod at Squeaky, who uses his available arm to pry the door reopen. With Sidon being right at the front, he’s quick to hold out his arm to halt them upon noticing a rapidly approaching sand worm heading in their direction in the pitch-black desert air.
“The barge!”
In mere seconds, their only mode of transportation is destroyed in the worm's wake, bits and pieces of canvas and wood being tossed every which way. Ahri studies Sidon as he turns, picturing the sure roll of his eyes in exasperation behind the red mask.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Rev laces her flesh and metal fingertips together atop her head between her lekku, continuously cursing under her breath.
Ahri shuts her eyes and tilts her head back in thought, thinking of what she saw from her search through the computer back on the bridge. “I got it!” She quickly calls out. “Escape pods. This cruiser still has a few active ones, or at least that’s what was displayed. Saw them from the bridge.” With a half grin she turns to Sidon, who nods in approval.
“Wait, where is Pendewqell?” Quiggold looks around, and Rev chews her cheek.
“He was adamant about finding those damn kyber crystals. He wouldn’t follow, but he knows the consequences of his foolishness,” she scoffs. “Come on, then! Let’s get to the pods.”
Not so much as taking a moment to process Pen’s complete idiocy, Ahri turns towards the direction of where the escape pods rest within the cruiser, leading the way as the others follow - her long braid bouncing against the exposed skin between her shoulder blades. 
The durasteel begins rumbling again as they dart through the dark corridors - only Ahri’s torch lighting their way. 
“Where are those damn dr-”
The sound of ricocheting blaster fire rings through the previously traveled corridor, the echoes growing louder as the threat tails them - cutting Rev off with the answer to her question.  
“Should be right up here!” Turning the corner, Ahri points to the line of escape pods and Rev dashes to the control panel.
“Fuck!” she spits out. “The ship’s computer must’ve been fucked. There’s only one functioning pod.”
“It will be tight but we will make do,” Quiggold says. “It’s not like we have any other choice.”
Rev climbs in first, followed by Quiggold, then Squeaky in tow with the mysterious man still slung over his shoulder. The marching sound of the droids’ metal feet stomping against the durasteel reverberates in the room as they get closer, but instead of climbing in behind her crewmates, Ahri stays put upon noticing how the captain hasn't yet budged. 
“Captain? C’mon!” 
Ahri stands outside the pod’s entrance, her brow furrowed and hand extended. Sidon remains still and stoic as ever as her hand begins to wave him on, up until he turns to the side, facing the only other way out of the room - right where the squad of droids should be entering any moment now.
“What are you doing?” Ahri feels herself growing frantic - already sure of what he’s planning to do. She knows him.
“Get into the escape pod.” 
Her head whips to the side, peering into the pod as Rev starts up the controls before quickly returning to face Sidon.
“There’s- there’s room, Sid,” she reasons - her voice deflating. “Come on.”
“Get into the escape pod, Ahri.” He turns to face her one last time, his hands clutching his blaster to his chest. “I will hold the droids off, so your escape may go uninterrupted.” Heart sinking into her stomach, she swallows hard and turns to enter the pod, but hesitates at the threshold. 
“Sid…” Her voice cracks in that one syllable - despair lacing her tone.
“Go!”
A single tear falls down Ahri’s flushed cheek and glides around the lining of the rebreather as she nods, taking one last look at her brave captain before stepping inside - the door shutting directly behind her. Hearing the sound of the escape pod shutting and locking, Rev pulls the lever, launching the remaining crewmates into the night.
Wordless, Ahri finds a seat on the floor of the pod facing the door, her back turned to the others.
“Wait, where’s the captain?” Squeaky asks after a moment of silence as he sets down the man into one of the seats, strapping him in. Ahri’s eyes remain closed, holding back the tears she can feel brimming in her eyes.
“Ahr,” Rev’s calm voice grows nearer, and then her flesh hand is on her shoulder. “Where is he?”
“He, uh,” With her head in her hands, Ahri keeps her voice low, not trusting it enough not to break. “He held them off for us. So they… so they wouldn’t shoot at us.”
It’s quiet - only the soft roar of the pod gliding over the desert vibrates within. Ahri forces herself to stay dry, to shed no tears, reminding herself that what he did is exactly what a captain does - sacrifice themselves for the safety of their crew if it comes down to it.
And... it did.
Once again, Ahri is reminded that this entire expedition was for nothing. 
Well.. maybe nothing isn’t exactly the appropriate term.
After several minutes of no words exchanged, Ahri stands up and moves towards the unconscious man. She decides that putting her focus into him would serve her well, rather than dwell on the unfortunate events of the night that would inevitably cause her to be made of nothing but rage and sorrow. This way, Ahri would have a chance to practice some medical skills she’d acquired over the course of her time being who she is, and can put it to good use. 
Also… she’s intrigued by this man.
“Is he still breathing?” she asks as she looks to Squeaky, wanting to know the answer before she gets any closer. She doesn't think she can take another loss tonight, even if it were a loss of a man she’d just met, and barely.
Squeaky leans over, pressing his large, pig-like head against his chestplate. 
“...Yeah.”
“Ok, good,” she says on a deep exhale. “That’s good.” Ahri takes a seat next to him, carefully removing the vambrace on his right arm.
“Can we take these off now, you think?” Squeaky gestures to the rebreather extremely stretched and tight over his own face.
“I’d keep them on,” Rev suggests. “Just in case. This pod shared some of the same toxic air as the rest of the ship, so best to keep them on until we get outta here.”
Ahri feels around the man’s forearm now that the piece of armor has been removed, checking for any broken bones then pressing into the soft space on his wrist to keep count of his heart rate. She stares at his shut eyelids - the dark lashes that ghost over his cheek. Even with the bulky rebreather secured to him she can see the exhaustion in his face, the responsibility and stress that had left a permanent mark that sinks into his strong yet delicate features. 
He’s quite handsome, she mentally notes. 
“Who do you think he is?” Ahri murmurs as she unclasps the rerebrace from the same arm. The three others watch as she scans his slouched body, held upright by the bar Squeaky had pulled down to secure across him. “This armor… it’s similar to stormtrooper armor, but also, it isn't?” She knocks her knuckles against the piece in her hand. “Sturdier, too. Not as weak as a stormtrooper’s.”
“He must be worth something, since he was inside that vault.” Rev implies - picking at her fingernails. “Must’ve been kept in stasis for a reason - why else would he be there?”
“When we get back into town we can talk to our contact, see if he knows anything,” Squeaky suggests. “See how much we can get for ‘im.”
Ahri’s stomach twists into a knot at the thought of selling this man on the black market as they would those non-existent crystals if they’d found those instead. Her attention lifting from the pieces of armor in her hands, she makes eye contact with Quiggold, who is staring intently at the man.
“Quigg, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Ahri pries. “You’re wiser than any of us, do you know who this guy could be?” He doesn't answer for several seconds, his large, rounded head cocking to the side before meeting Ahri’s eyes.
“I’m not quite sure, but if I'm not mistaken, he did say something about the Republic back in the vault, yes?” The others nod, and Quiggold clicks his tongue. “Whoever he is, my guess is that he’d been in that pod since the days of the Republic.” 
The others’ eyes widen when the realization sets in on just how long ago the Republic had existed and acted as the controlling interest of the galaxy - long before Ahri was alive, and Reveth, though Squeaky and Quiggold may have been young back then.
Ahri knows that the days of the Republic ended at least fifty years ago - the same age as the wreckage they’d just escaped from. 
Quiggold leans forward in his seat, his metal pegleg tapping against the floor.
“Perhaps he’d be able to answer some questions, once he wakes up.”
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cheri-translates · 3 years
Text
[CN] Victor’s Business Exhibition Date
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 企展之约, which has not been released in EN 🍒
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[ This date was released on 16 July 2021 ]
After a meal on this weekend afternoon, I’m nestled on the sofa, watching a new episode of an anime.
MC: Hahahaha!
Watching the comical antics of the main character on-screen, I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Whoosh--”
Hearing the rustling of papers from behind, I subconsciously shut my mouth, my line of sight flitting past the sofa and landing on Victor.
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He’s sitting at the dining table, a look of concentration on his face while he reads a report. The small dining table is full of documents.
I had initially planned to watch movies with Victor at my place today. I didn’t expect him to be so bogged down with work lately, and unable to relax over the weekend.
MC: Victor, am I disturbing you? Why don’t you use the study room or my bedroom instead?
Without lifting his head, he props up the spectacles on the bridge of his nose.
Victor: Who was the one who wanted to “stick” together with me over the weekend?
MC: ...that’s true, but you’re focusing on work now.
He has no intention of continuing the conversation. Rubbing my nose guiltily, I head into the kitchen quietly. After cutting some fruits, I bring them over to the dining table.
MC: In that case, I’ll apologise to CEO Victor~
Sticking a toothpick into an apple slice, I bring it to him. He tilts his head up slightly, taking a bite from the apple in my hand.
From my peripheral vision, I spot an invitation card with the words “Elementary and Middle School Students” on it. Curious, I take a closer look.
MC: “Corporate Culture Exhibition for Elementary and Middle School Students”? Is LFG participating in the Corporate Culture Exhibition?
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Victor: We received the invitation and haven’t decided if we’re participating.
MC: I see... I’ve never heard of this exhibition.
Victor: The government organised it this year. 
Victor: The officials said that it’s meant to introduce elementary and middle school students to outstanding occupations and various career paths to help them establish their aspirations.
MC: This exhibition seems pretty meaningful. It’s beneficial to LFG’s business image too.
MC: Come to think of it, I wonder if little kids have an understanding of LFG, and what kind of impression they have of LFG?
MC: Oh yes! There was a news report on elementary and middle schoolers going on company tours. Does LFG want to organise a similar activity?
Ideas come one after another in my mind. I rattle on about my opinions, but Victor doesn’t express anything.
When I start making an inventory of the company tour for students, the pen in his hand pauses, and he lifts his eyes slowly.
Victor: I can consider the exhibition, but not the company tour.
MC: Why not?
His deep eyes sweep over the anime on the television screen before landing on me.
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Victor: There’s already one very noisy kid in LFG.
-
In the end, Victor accepts the invitation to the Corporate Culture Exhibition. The exhibition commences as scheduled.
Out of interest, I offer my services to Victor. I become a volunteer responsible for decorations at the venue.
Seeing the detailed and vivid posters introducing various occupations  in the exhibition hall, the LFG employees next to me are slightly awed.
LFG Employee A: It’s really nice that we have the chance to understand different occupations. When I was young, I thought there were only astronauts and scientists in the world.
LFG Employee B: Even if you only knew of those careers when you were young and decided on an aspiration, it might not become reality when you grow up. I wanted to be a dancer, but I’m doing something completely unrelated to the arts now.
LFG Employee A: That’s true. If it weren’t for the excellent pay in LFG, I’d probably be at my old home opening a second-hand bookshop and retiring early. Oh yes, MC, what did you want to do when you were young?
Getting pointed out suddenly while engrossed in their discussion causes me to be stunned momentarily.
MC: When I was young...
I blink, recalling somewhat faraway memories. Before I can ponder deeply, my phone rings - it’s a call from Victor.
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Victor: Come to the café near the entrance of the exhibition hall.
MC: Now? What for?
Victor: ...what else can you do in a café? Play golf, amend proposals, go horse riding, drink coffee - which one do you think is the most suitable?
MC: ...to be honest, I can’t decide between the two options of “amend proposals” and “drink coffee”.
Victor: I ordered a custard cake. If you don’t come over, I’ll take it that you’re not interested.
MC: I’ll be there immediately!
After notifying those LFG employees, I turn around and head towards the café.
MC: Is this really okay? The others are still busy.
Victor: When did you have such a high sense of awareness? Who was the person who painstakingly learnt “Slacking Hacks” on the internet a few days ago?
MC: I was reading that for fun... I wasn’t planning to put it into practice.
Lifting my phone as I squeeze into the packed café, I notice that most of the people here are parents who are preparing to accompany their kids to the exhibition.
Victor: There’s still an hour till the exhibition begins. I’ve already told Goldman to inform everyone to take a break. In short, there’s no need to feel guilty, because...
Taking two steps into the café, I spot Victor at a glance as he sits at a table near the window calmly.
Seeing that I’m walking towards him, he puts down his phone gently, lifting his head to meet my eyes.
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Victor: Aside from you, there’s another person who’s “slacking”.
Taken aback for a moment, I quickly react to the meaning in his words. My brows arch upwards as I take a seat.
MC: I didn’t expect to ever “slack” together with CEO Victor.
Elated, I pick up a fork and try a bite of the dessert in front of me. The custard melts in my mouth instantly, and it’s sweet and smooth.
MC: Delicious! As expected of CEO Victor’s pick~
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Victor: Even delicious food can’t stop you from being talkative.
Right after saying this, he seems to stare at me fixedly, his expression slightly strange.
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Just as I’m about to ask why he’s looking at me that way, he lifts up his coffee, his lowered eyelashes covering the smile in his eyes.
...am I overthinking things? Why do I feel as if he’s making a joke out of me?
Feeling puzzled, I notice a pen and a post-it booklet at the edge of the table.
MC: This is...?
A staff who is passing by takes a step forward, smiling as he explains.
Staff: This is a small event by our shop. You can write your hopes or suggestions for the children, then hang it on the “Hope Tree” near the door of the shop.
Struck with an idea, I pick up the pen and a post-it note.
MC: Victor, shall we write a few suggestions for the children too?
I tear a post-it note and give it to him. After staring at me in silence for a while, he suddenly reaches out his hand.
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Victor: Give me one more.
MC: ?
MC: Does CEO Victor want to write a mini essay?
Ignoring my joke, he writes a sentence on each of the two post-it notes. He hands one to the staff, and stuffs the other one to me.
Bewildered, I sweep a glance at the post-it note given to the staff. The words “You only have one life” are written on it.
Lowering my head, I stare at the post-it note in my own hand. In an instant, I realise why he displayed such a strange smile earlier. There’s a short sentence written on the post-it note:
“Dummy, there’s custard on your cheek.”
??: Hello, could I trouble the two of you to help me with something?
My face reddens. After wiping the custard off my cheek with a tissue, I hear an unfamiliar female voice next to me.
Turning towards the sound, I see a lady standing beside me with two small boys.
Woman: I need to use the washroom, but bringing two boys with me isn’t really convenient. Could I trouble the both of you to take care of them for a while?
I ask for Victor’s opinion with my gaze, and he responds with a slight nod. Understanding this, I nod at the mother.
MC: Of course we can.
While thanking us, she gets the two children to sit at both ends of the table before hurrying off.
The table now comprises of the four of us - two adults and two children. The air gets filled with an inexplicable, thick awkwardness.
Victor looks at me. I look at the kids. The kids look at Victor... Clearing my throat, I decide to break this strange atmosphere.
MC: Kids, how old are the both of you?
Kid A: Mommy said that we can’t give personal information to strangers!
MC: ...
I didn’t expect to be given the cold shoulder the moment I opened my mouth. I release an embarrassed laugh.
MC: Personal information... You can use such advanced terms. You’re so smart haha.
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A soft and low chuckle drifts to my ears. I glance at Victor as he picks up his coffee with a blank expression, staying uninvolved in the matter.
The other boy suddenly widens his eyes and leans towards me, pointing at my volunteer name tag and reading it aloud.
Kid B: L! F! G! Do you two work in LFG?
MC: Well...
I ponder over this. LFG is the investor of my company, and Victor is the CEO of LFG. So...
MC: I guess so.
Kid B: In that case, what are the two of you doing here? Did you sneak away?
MC: ...
Although these are unintentional words from a child, I avert my eyes guiltily. At this point, the kid who behaves like an adult speaks loudly.
Kid A: That’s impossible! Mommy said that everyone who works at LFG are really incredible people! They won’t sneak away!
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Victor: Cough...
Victor pauses his sampling of the coffee. As though he choked on something, he clears his throat.
Kid B: Really?
The kid blinks his eyes as he waits for our response.
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Victor’s expression is a little unnatural. He picks up a newspaper from a rack near the window, immersing himself in it.
Seeing him like this, he probably recalled the earlier conversation we had on “slacking” as well.
It’s rare to see Victor being choked up by someone. A little demon with horns suddenly appears in my heart.
I can’t help but laugh inwardly while turning to the kids.
MC: You’re correct. The employees from LFG never sneak away. We were talking about work-
MC: Right, Vic?
[Note] In CN, MC calls Victor “小李” (“xiao li”, which translates directly to Little Li).
Saying this, I wink at the person opposite me.
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Victor arches his brows, astonishment in his eyes. Without waiting for him to speak, I immediately do a “stop” gesture with my hands.
MC: The previous proposal for the show is too conservative. There aren’t any highlights, and it isn’t clear who the target audience is. It might be a waste to show it during prime time.
Adjusting my posture, I clasp my fingers on the table, mimicking VIctor’s tone and expression.
MC: When will you be submitting the new proposal? Tomorrow is the deadline.
Kid A and B: Wow...
Awed gasps from the kids drift to my ears. I straighten up with pride, tilting my chin towards Victor.
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He stares at me with a calm gaze, his eyes gradually illuminated with an unreadable, dense light.
He lowers the newspaper slightly, blowing the coffee in his hand gently and unhurriedly.
Victor: Are you sure these are the only problems, Miss CEO? 
Victor: I've also “reflected” much on that proposal, and there are some problems I haven’t had the chance to tell you about. 
Victor: Since you brought it up, I have no choice but to do a “self-reflection” here.
Victor’s tone is composed, and there isn’t a ripple in his expression. As compared to my pretentious posture, he’s laid-back and natural.
Victor: The theme of the show is too general and lacks a segment which stirs the audience. 
Victor: The structure also has the shadow of previous shows. A change in form but not substance - it’s a little unoriginal. 
Victor: A scandal broke out yesterday involving one of the guests for the show. A replacement guest has not been decided upon.
Victor: Also...
MC: Stop! I... I get it!
He leans against the back of the chair, a teasing glint in the depths of his eyes.
Victor: When will you be submitting the new proposal? Tomorrow is the deadline.
MC Tonight, tonight! I’ll definitely submit it tonight!
I reply instantly, my voice carrying with it some alarm. The corners of his lips hook upwards, and he retracts his “overbearing” aura.
Victor: I’ll wait and see.
I heave a sigh of relief, then feel a dryness in my mouth. Lowering my head to take a sip of coffee, I see the disappointed gazes of the two kids.
My cheeks flush. Just as I’m about to say something to salvage some pride, their mother returns, thanking us while taking them away.
I glare at Victor indignantly. He chuckles softly, then clasps his fingers together on the table just like I did earlier.
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Victor: I look forward to your next “challenge”.
-
After the exhibition ends, Victor and I leave work early.
The weather is really nice today. We pick a restaurant nearby, planning to head there on foot.
Dusk hangs low, and a misty pink evening mist smudges the sky.
Perhaps due to how smoothly the exhibition went, little emotions surface in my heart. 
Beneath this beautiful sky, how many young aspirations and lives took flight earlier?
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Victor: Why are you just standing there in a silly daze? Aren’t you hungry?
Retracting my thoughts, I see that Victor has stopped in front of me, his body turned to the side as he looks at me.
I hurriedly catch up to him, pulling on his arm.
MC: Victor, why did you write “You only have one life” on the post-it note today?
Victor: It’s true that you only have one life. Even an elementary student knows this principle.
MC: ...that’s not what I meant. I’m asking about what’s implied in it. For instance, are you asking the kids to seize the day and work their hardest?
His gaze lands on me. Seeing how serious I look, he slows down his pace slightly.
Victor: If you were to meet your childhood self, would you tell her to work her hardest?
MC: Mm... it’s difficult to say. I might tell her what to do in order for the current me to be even happier?
Victor: And that the reason why you can’t use an overly objective and rational principle to teach others. 
Victor: It’s a desirable trait to work their hardest so that there won't be any excuses to stop in their footsteps. 
Victor: But this doesn’t mean that everyone must have the goal of working their hardest.
Victor: After all, every person expects different things from themselves. 
Victor: Not everyone wants to stand at the peak. 
Victor: As compared to looking down from a mountaintop, there are some people who wish to happily and simply appreciate the scenery along the way. 
Victor: This might sound simple, but being an ordinary person isn’t easy.
Victor: “You only have one life” - this phrase has many meanings in different contexts.
I’m stunned for a moment. I initially thought that Victor’s words were meant to be a motivational quote, and didn’t expect for him to have such thoughts.
Even when he’s faced with young children, he doesn’t wish to give a fixed answer on the basis that he’s a mature adult.
My lips curl upwards, and I can’t help but stick a little closer to him.
MC: You’re right. After all, aside from people who stand at the peak, there are even more ordinary people.
MC: Ordinary people have one life too. They need to cherish it properly, and do what they want to do.
MC: CEO Victor, I’ve learnt something from you!
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Clasping my hands together, I bow in mock seriousness. An almost indiscernible smile lifts the corners of his lips.
MC: Come to think of it, I had so many aspirations when I was young. Lawyer, teacher, police officer, judge... I didn’t expect to become a producer in the end. Perhaps in a parallel universe, there’s a me who became a lawyer, teacher or judge!
The scene from the café flashes across my mind, and I burst into laughter.
MC: I might even be a CEO! What do you think?
After I say this, Victor turns his head and gives me an amused glance.
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Victor: I think you do behave like a CEO.
MC: It’s because I’ve been influenced after spending such a long time by your side~ Returning to the topic - what was your aspiration when you were young? To become a powerful business tycoon?
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Victor: ...have you ever heard of a child having such a pragmatic dream?
MC: In that case, tell me about it?
He doesn’t respond, and simply keeps his eyes faced front. No matter how much I probe, he doesn’t speak.
The sweet fragrance of desserts wafts into my nose. Following the scent and turning to the bakery near the roadside, I’m struck with an idea.
Since I can’t crack this difficult question in a straightforward manner, I decide to adopt the process of elimination.
MC: A baker?
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Victor: ...
A signboard with the words “Watchmaker Shop” enters my vision, and I immediately look at him.
MC: A watchmaker?
MC: The boss of a lottery shop?
MC: ...director of a zoo?
Throughout the journey, I rack my brain and ask him about all sorts of occupations. However, it’s clear that none of them are correct.
Finally, we stop in front of a crosswalk, waiting for the red light.
Looks like I won’t be able to get any answers from him today. Disappointed, I let go of Victor’s arm, releasing a soft “hmph”.
MC: Aren’t you curious if there was a choice and you weren’t the CEO of LFG, and if I weren’t a producer...
MC: What would our identities be? Would we meet? And what kind of a relationship would we have?
The red man at the other end of the road suddenly turns green, signalling for us to move forward.
My hand, which had drooped to the side, is lifted up gently by someone. His broad palm conveys a comforting temperature.
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Victor: There’s nothing to be curious about.
The crowd flows past in an endless stream on the crosswalk. Their footsteps are hurried, and the tips of their feet point in different directions.
I look at the person beside me. His gaze is resolute as he holds my hand, taking large strides towards the restless crowd.
He seems to sense my gaze. Lowering his head slightly, the light in his eyes is deep and scorching.
Victor: The life that I want to choose most is already in my hand.
-
[ MOMENTS ]
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Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.
MC: Could we cancel tonight’s reservation at the restaurant? I really want to go straight home to sleep...
Victor: Eating is a necessity. The location will be changed to your home.
-
Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.
MC: As long as I’m hardworking enough, nothing’s impossible!
Victor: Working hard to make yourself even more stupid?
-
Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.
MC: I solemnly vow not to do such things again.
Victor: This vow better count before you start on the next anime.
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🍰 Call: here
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monsterenergysimp · 3 years
Text
Oh My God, They Were Roommates
corpse husband x fem! reader 
summary: and they were roommates! oh my god, they were roommates 
request: hi i really like your writing and was wondering if u could write for me :) if possible can u do one were u (fem) and corpse are roommates and u accidentally come into his room while streaming and everyone hear u so you stay and watch. people that he’s playing with and the stream see corpse act very sweet and soft to u. so know everyone is teasing him and he finally admits he has feelings for u on his stream. just a lot of fluff pls and thank u :))
warnings: cursing 
word count: 812
notes: This is proof read but I could have missed some stuff. I can’t believe I posted twice in a day. Although since its past midnight its techincally the next day, but I haven’t slept. Thank you for the request nonnie and I hope you all enjoy :) 
main blog: @itsmysleepover
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Living with Corpse was fun. You guys were close friends when you were younger; you moved away but managed to stay friends. You spoke almost every day, and when he started his youtube channel you were one of the first people he told. You had been starting your first year as a middle school literature teacher and wanted to move back home. You didn’t think you’d get the job so you never made any living arrangements. Then the school hired you on short notice and you needed a place to live stat. Corpse was gracious enough and offered to be your roommate. It was supposed to be temporary but here you were almost a year later still living with him.
You didn’t want to move out anyway. You liked living with Corpse; there was never a dull moment with him. You would sit in on his streams and laugh along with him. You got to hear pre-release demos of his songs. You told him the latest insults your students would say to you because middle schoolers are brutal.  You even loved more chill moments of editing and grading next to each other while eating takeout.
You were getting home late from a faculty meeting and walked into Corpse’s office. “Hey Corpse, you wanna order food tonight-- aw shit,” you said. You didn’t know Corpse was streaming. He turned around to look at you; you looked like a deer in the headlights. You tried to back out slowly but he stopped you, “No Y/N come in it’s fine,” he said and laughed at your awkward demeanor. “Everyone, say hi to my roommate Y/N,” he said and disconnected his headphones. A series of hellos erupted from his computer’s speakers as the streamers on the other end greeted you excitedly. You walked up to his computer and noticed the chat speed past with a plethora of heys. “Y/N wanna say hi to the stream?” You nodded and got closer to the mic so it could properly pick up your voice.
“What up, I’m Jared I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to read,” you said. Corpse chuckled and playfully pushed you away from his mic. You somehow managed to fall on your ass despite how gentle the shove was. Corpse laughed at you and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. Moments like these made you love Corpse
“Wanna stay and watch me stream?” He asked. You nodded and sat on the little couch on the other side of the room. “How was work?”
“Today one of my students quoted a vine at me and said ‘It’s from a vine’ and I felt like the Narnia meme. It was terrible.” You sighed while Corpse giggled. “Then another student asked if I was dating anyone and his friends said ‘She’s not, I can tell’. Then I emailed my boss telling him I’d be passing away respectfully.”
Corpse continued laughing at your story and his eyes lit up. If you had to be honest hearing his laugh was the only reason you told him about these funny moments at work. They weren’t anything special to you but he enjoyed them and you enjoyed seeing him happy. "Guys it's not my fault Y/N is funny no need to call me a simp." 
"Haha, simp." You said then it quieted down for a bit. He continued to play the game while you sat and watched. 
“I’m surprised you’re not dating,” Corpse said in a much quieter voice. Does he know he even said it out loud?
“Well, dating is hard. Getting to know people is difficult,”  you said softly not sure if he meant for you to hear him or not. He shifted in his chair and glanced over at you quickly. “And I’m pretty busy so someone I can see often is important to me.”
“Y/N, I-” he sighed unsure how to continue. He muted his mic then turned his chair so he was looking at you. “I like you. You make me laugh and brighten my day even if I feel like shit. The way you just being there makes everything better. Your smile. Your dedication to your work. The fact that you’re gorgeous. I had a crush on you when we were kids and I am in love with you now.”
You didn’t know how to process this information. You felt the same way but this was sudden. “You just got killed by whoever is playing purple,” you said trying to release the tension in the room. He sighed and turned back to his computer. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes weren’t bright anymore. “How about I order us food and it could be our first date,” you suggested. You were looking at your shoes unsure where else to look.
Did you both just destroy your friendship?
“That sounds great.”
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dragonfire2lm · 3 years
Text
What I Learned as a Demisexual/Demoramtic
Now, I’ve started to frequent the r/demisexuality subreddit, and one of the most common posts are people asking for advice or information because they’re questioning.
Perfectly understandable. I help where I can on posts I feel like I can actually offer help on and I’m going to share that same advice on here with you all on the off chance it’ll help someone. Granted, this will mostly be me parroting information others have told me or information from the articles and videos I’ve watched, but this isn’t something that is widely known and I want to try and educate as well as help.
While I will remain as clinical and respectful as possible, I will be bringing up the topic of sex.
What is Demisexuality?
Demisexuality is part of the asexuality spectrum, and is the complete absence of sexual attraction until a bond is formed. Let me stress that it isn’t “being picky”, or “normal”, demisexuals do not feel any sexual attraction at all until the prerequisite of a strong emotional bond is established. Demisexuals do not see people on the street, actors, or celebrities “hot”.
There is no desire, no reaction, no drive to have intimate relations with someone if they don’t know them.
This means that demisexuals are functionally asexual until they care about someone enough to develop sexual attraction. Personally, it’s less to do with looks, and more to do with who the person is. For example I find my boyfriend attractive because of the amount of love, respect and, trust we have for each other. It’s who he is that matters, not what he looks like.
Can I be Straight/Bi/Gay/Pan and still be Demi?
Yes. The Asexual and Aromantic Spectrums is often used as an additional label to the more “well known” sexualities. I myself am a Straight Cis female that is Demisexual and Demiromantic.
You can be demisexual/asexual/gray asexual and still be romantically attracted to a specific gender, as the Asexual spectrum only concerns sexual attraction and nothing else.
With that said...
Sexual Attraction and Romantic Attraction are Two Different Things!
Despite what society and modern media would have you believe, sexual attraction (the desire to be sexually intimate with someone) and romantic attraction (the desire to date someone/ fall in love) are two different things.
Just because a demisexual does not feel sexual attraction until after getting to know someone, that doesn’t mean they can’t fall in love. In fact the “emotional bond” I keep bringing up can be platonic or romantic.
I’m going to be using myself as an example, I knew my boyfriend for a few years before I realized that I liked him as more than a friend, that I liked him romantically, but I wasn’t yet comfortable with the idea of doing anything intimate with him when we first got together two years ago. It was around nine months (roughly) into the relationship, after talking things out, discussing what we wanted out of the relationship, what I was comfortable with, and trusting him enough to be ok with even talking about sex.
I loved him first, and found him attractive as time went on.
So, for those demis with significant others, for those of you who are dating a demi, and especially for people questioning if they are demi, please heed this next bit of advice.
Communication Is Key!
I cannot stress this enough, you need to be okay with having actual conversations, you need to aware of both your own boundaries and those of your partner. And for you singles out there, you need to be able to clearly explain this to any potential partners you may have, it will save you a ton of pain and heartbreak in the future.
It’s heartbreaking to see people on the Demisexuality subreddit deal with some horrible situations because they’re pressured into doing something, or assumptions are made based on how dating and hook-up culture work...
Sexual Attraction is Different from Sex Drive or Arousal
This is a point that a lot of people get confused with, thinking that getting turned on, viewing erotic material, and their own libido means they aren’t demi.
Sexual attraction is seeing someone and having the desire to have sex with them.
Sex drive is the desire to have sex in general, it is a biological process and is perfectly normal to have. An undirected thing that just happens. Demisexuals can have high or low sex drives, Asexuals can have high or low sex drives. Anyone can have high or low sex drives. What matters is the lack of or limited attraction to others that defines people on the asexual spectrum.
And yes, you can watch porn, read explicit fanfiction, whatever suits your taste. Arousal is nothing more that reaction to erotic stimuli and is a normal thing.
It’s even okay if you want nothing to do with sex. There are people who enjoy, others don’t and that’s okay.
Demisexuality VS Demiromanticism
I mentioned the Aromantic Spectrum earlier and have already stressed the fact that wanting to bang someone and falling in the love with them are two separate things. For those of you curious, Demiromanticism is similar to Demisexuality in that both of these orientations require a strong emotional connection to a person as a prerequisite, the difference being what the prerequisite relationship is for.
Demisexuals require an emotional connection before they are sexually attracted to someone.
Demiroamtics require an emotional connection before they are romantically attracted to someone.
There is no “Lust at first sight” with a Demisexual and no “Love at first sight” with a Demiromantic.
And you can be Demiromantic, Demisexual or both.
I am both, it took quite a while to figure that out, let me tell you. I had a genuine moment of “Wait, people actually fall in love at first sight irl? That’s a thing?” as well as a moment of “People want to F***, just because?”
As a demiromantic and demisexual, I was very confused for a while there.
Things Demisexuality Is Not!
It is not “a choice”. It is a fundamental part of how a person thinks, how they function. I can no more stop being demi than my boyfriend can stop liking boobs.
It is not “a kink”. I’ve had this one said to me personally and for the love of god, ew no. It is not a kink. It is something firmly rooted in how I am as a person you uneducated, narrow-minded Ding-Dong. Kinks are fine, perfectly fine so long as it's safe and everyone involved consents. What I'm not okay with is people blatantly ignoring information about a sexuality to label it as a kink.
“Isn’t everyone like that?” No, Let me put it this way, if the entire world was Demisexual, sex appeal wouldn’t exist in media because it wouldn’t work.
Bonus Round: Being Demi and Having Fictional Crushes
This is something I posted about on reddit, that got a lot of positive attention as most demis that replied didn’t really know about this, but could relate to once I put it into words.
I’d often get attached to fictional characters to the point of being hyper fixated on a select few and develop crushes on them. Some characters I’d even seek out explicit fanfiction of.
This is because I am essentially developing a one-way bond with that character. It’s not with every character mind you, there are some characters I have crushes that don���t involve NSFW content, and there are plenty of characters I like platonically.
But the fact that my hyper fixations and fictional crushes made so much sense after I figured I was demi was a relief and a fun little thing to figure out.
“Oh I’m demi... That explains so much...”
If You Have Anymore Questions, Feel Free to Ask Me!
I do have the ask box open on this blog, or you can head to r/demisexuality and hopefully someone with more experience than me can help.
I hope this was educational and helpful to a degree.
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let-me-luve-you · 3 years
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Winter Storm
Jared Padalecki x Reader
Summary: You play Cordell Walker’s daughter on the new show Walker. Jared takes you under his wing. What happens when a winter storm hits all of Texas.
Warnings: Mentions of a rough upbringing, Texas winter storm, power outage, water problems, some angst, scary weather, fluff, protective Jared, maybe a cuss word somewhere
A/N: As a Texan, this past week has been scary. I have been extremely blessed to not have the problems that a lot are. I was lucky and did not lose power and did not have any pipes burst. This idea came to me after seeing that Jared and Gen were helping others while dealing with their own problems at their house. 
HERE ARE SOME LINKS TO HELP OUT IF YOU ARE ABLE TO. 
KICK THE COLD - AUSTIN MUTUAL AID
GENESIS WOMEN’S SHELTER & SUPPORT
FEEDING TEXAS
LIST OF ORGANIZATIONS SEEKING DONATIONS IN DALLAS AREA
THE WAY HOME
You do not have to donate to any of these organizations, but if you feel the need to help, here are a few links. ^^^^ There are plenty more out there if you don’t want to donate to these links. 
MASTERLIST   BUY ME A COFFEE
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Winter weather will be hitting Texas this weekend. You can expect lots of snow and ice. It is best to prepare for possible power outages and water being turned off. That is worst case scenario, but be prepared as Sunday will be a cold one.
You panicked. Growing up in North Texas you never had to deal with severe winter weather. You were used to dealing with tornados. But the way they were talking on the news, this weekend was going to be bad.
Thankfully you had the day off and were able to go to the store. You grabbed a case of water and food that you could prepare and food that didn’t have to be cooked to eat. You were still getting used to the adult life as an 18 year old, but since you had been taking care of yourself the last few years, you learned a thing or two in the kitchen. You made sure to grab some snacks as well since they didn’t have to be cooked or stored in the fridge either.
As you pulled up to your apartment building, you got a call from the lead and producer of the show you were on. You still weren’t sure how you managed to land the role of Stella in the new show Walker, but you were grateful. You put the car in park and grabbed your phone.
“Hey Jare.” You said. Jared was the older brother you always wanted, even though he plays your dad and he has moments where he acts like your dad. You didn’t have a great life growing up and to have a male figure in your life to help you in anyway, made you happy. Same thing with Gen.
“Hey Y/N/N. How’re you doing?” He asked.
“I’m doing good. Just got back from the store. Am I needed on set?” You asked in a panic thinking you missed something.
“No, no you’re not needed. Just wanted to call and tell you we are not filming Monday or Tuesday next week. And depending on the weather and roads, we may cancel Wednesday as well.” He informed you.
“Oh. Is it because of the storm?” You asked.
“Yeah. We aren’t sure how bad it’ll be, but we are hoping we are just being over cautious.” He said. “You said you went to the store?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to get something’s so I won’t have to get out. And I got some stuff. I won’t need to cook in case we lose power. Also filled up with gas in case I lose heat and need to warm up some.” You told him.
“Come stay with us. We have plenty of room and we have a fireplace. We just restocked our firewood supply. I don’t want to be worrying about you all weekend.” He said.
“I’ll be okay. Really. Thank you for the offer though.” You said nicely. You really did mean it. You were used to taking care of yourself that when people did want to help you, you appreciated them.
“Well. I have my truck if I need to come get you. If you change your mind, come over. The kids would love to see you.” He said. You heard Gen agree with him in the background. “And Gen would too.”
“Well after the storm, I’ll come over for dinner to see everyone. And I’ll even come another night to babysit so you and Gen can go on a date.” You said with a laugh once you heard Gen immediately laugh.
“Gen says you don’t have to, but I will take you up on both offers.” Jared told you. “Okay. Well stay in touch. They say it’ll start sometime tomorrow night.”
“Y’all stay safe and stay in touch too.” You said. “Bye Jare.”
“Bye Y/N/N.” He said before hanging up. You put your phone back into your pocket before lugging all of the groceries into your apartment. You put everything away before going to change out of your winter clothes.
After changing into some PJs to be comfortable. You decided to meal prep some so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. And if the weather isn’t as bad as they think it’ll be, you can just eat them throughout the week.
Sunday morning, you woke up and looked outside. All you could see was white fluffiness. You smiled as the world looked at peace. You loved snow. You always thought it brought beauty to the world.
When you walked back to your phone where it laid on its charger, you saw a couple of texts from Jared and Gen. Both had sent you photos of Tom, Shep, and Odette playing the in the snow. Then you saw Jared’s text about possible rolling power outages.
You picked up the phone and called Jared and before he could even say hello, you asked, “What does that mean? Your text... I don’t understand it.”
“It means they’ll shut the power off for an hour to three hours to preserve energy.” Jared said.
“Oh.” You said.
“Yeah, so if the power goes out, don’t worry, it should come back on.” He reassured you.
“Okay. Thank you for letting me know.” You replied.
“Of course. How are you doing anyways?” He asked.
“Good. Just woke up. Felt good to sleep in. I’m probably about to start warming up my lunch.” You informed him. “How are y’all handling it over there? I saw the pics you and Gen sent. The kids look like they’re having a blast.”
“We’re doing good. The kids are definitely loving the snow. I did have to help Gen gather the chickens this morning which wasn’t fun.” He said with a laugh.
“Oh gosh. Yeah chasing chickens isn’t fun. Are they okay? I didn’t even think about y’all’s animals?”
“They’re all in the barn with heat lamps. Thankfully the barn is powered by solar so we don’t have to worry too much if the power goes out since we have a lot of energy stored up.” He said.
“Good that’s good. Well I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you were doing. Thanks again for letting me know.”
“Anytime. If you need something, holler. Okay?” He asked.
“I will. Bye.” You said. You heard his farewell as you went to hang up the phone. After preheating the oven, you took the lasagna and boxed garlic bread out of the freezer. You figured, while the power was still on, you could cook the one meal you prepped that couldn’t be eaten cold until you cooked it and it was leftovers.
An hour later, you sat at the counter charging your phone and iPad while you ate. When you went to take another bite, the power cut off.
“Great.” You whispered. You knew it was only going to be for a few hours, but you were a little aggravated by the inconvenience. You stood up and went and put on thicker sweatpants and your socks. When you made it back to your phone to text Jared that your power went out, you saw you barely had any service. That concerned you in case you needed to make a call for an emergency.
Power just went out. Hopefully y’all didn’t lose power. I’ll let you know when it’s back on. Sent 1:23 pm
You continued to eat as you awaited a response. Shrugging when you finished your meal and put the dirty dish in the sink, you moved to the living room to read a book you started the night before.
Hours later, you still had no power and you still hadn’t heard from Jared or Gen. You had checked social media, but neither had posted anything. You decided to scroll through Twitter and saw the horrors of people’s pipes bursting and roofs caving in flooding their homes.
Seeing people in Austin posting that, you decided to grab a tote to store your valuables in. Sadly, it wasn’t a lot, but the idea of losing what little you had that meant something to you scared you.
You needed to go to your car to charge your phone and warm up some, so you decided to store your valuables in the trunk. Thankfully you had a covered parking space that was right in front of your apartment. When you put the tote in the trunk, you checked to make sure the tail pipe was clear of snow before you started the car.
After spending an hour in the car, you decided it was time for bed. Grabbing every piece of blankets you had, you cuddled up in Jared’s hoody that you stole from him when you filmed episode 2 of Walker and all the blankets. You even had on two pairs of socks on since you got cold earlier.
The next morning, you checked to see your phone still had more than half its battery life left. But what shocked you was still no response from Jared. You got on Instagram and saw that Gen had posted a boomerang of him with his socks on as gloves, but neither had checked in with you.
You were kind of upset by this. You knew they didn’t owe you anything, but it still hurt. Going to the kitchen, you saw it was flooded.
“Oh no. Oh no. Nonononono.” You panicked. You ran to the bathroom and grabbed all the towels you owned and rushed back to the kitchen. You threw them down to try and absorb as much water as possible. You opened the cabinet and saw the pipe that had burst. You grabbed your phone and called the landlord.
“Hey Craig. I had a pipe burst this morning.” You said when he answered.
“Can’t do much with the weather like this.” He said not really caring.
“Can you turn the water off or something? Or tell me where it is and I’ll do it.” You said getting angry.
“Can’t do that either. If I do that, your neighbors lose their water too.” He said.
“Well what am I supposed to do. Just sit in water all day?” You asked with an annoyed tone.
“City’s running out of water anyway so they may shut it off. So won’t be long before it stops.” He said. You got so mad that you hung up. He was useless.
After 3 hours, all of your towels were soaked and you started using some of your clothes to help absorb what the towels couldn’t. You had tried calling Jared to see if he knew what to do but it went straight to voicemail. Same with Gen.
After using most of your clothes to stop the water, you decided to pack a bag in case you had to leave. Plus it would let you know what you could use to absorb the water that still remains. Thankfully your landlord had turned the water off after multiple people called about pipes bursting. All you had to do was finish cleaning up the mess.
Two days later, you were sitting in your car, about to go back into your apartment when you got a call from Gen.
“Y/N. Oh my gosh it’s so good to hear from you. We haven’t had service, plus we lost power and had a few pipes burst. Are you okay?” She asked worriedly.
“I’m okay. Sitting in my car right now so I could charge my phone and warm up a bit.” You told her.
“You don’t have power still?” She asked.
“Nope. And I also had a pipe burst. But I cleaned it up and nothing was damaged. Did you have any damage done? Is everyone okay?” You asked concerned.
“Yeah. We are fine. And just minimal floor damage.” She told you. “Jared is cleaning that mess up while I’m going to the store. Do you need anything? We have some of our neighbors over trying to stay warm and I’m grabbing them stuff too. So I don’t mind getting you anything.”
“I’m okay. I have plenty.” You said. You wanted heat. You wanted to sleep without having to wear five layers, but you refused to ask.
“Well if you do need something, text or call. Hopefully we get service back.” She said.
“I will. Thanks Gen.” you said as you hung up. Ten minutes later you got a call from Jared.
“Pack a bag and bring some blankets.” He said before you could even greet him.
“What?” You asked genuinely confused.
“I said, pack a bag and bring some blankets. Also if you want to bring any food you don’t want to go to waste or if you have water, bring that too. I’ll come in and help you carry.” He said.
“Wh-wait.. what is happening?” You asked.
“I’m coming to get you and you are going to stay with us for a couple of days. I just got off the phone with Gen and she said you had a pipe burst and you don’t have heat. So you are going to come stay with us until your power is back on and the pipe is fixed.” He said. “I’m pulling up. I’ll be inside in a second.” He hung up before you could say anything.
You went and unlocked the door before moving to your room. You grabbed your big suitcase and packed what few pair of pants you had, a weeks worth of underwear, two weeks worth of socks since you hated having cold feet, and the remaining three sweaters and seven shirts you had. It barely filled your suitcase so you decided to throw in a couple of hoodies as well.
“That all your packing?” Jared asked concerned. No one knew how long this was going to last.
“It’s all I got clean.” You answered honestly.
“No way.” He said in disbelief. You shrugged and told him to follow you as you walked into the kitchen. He saw the pile of clothes and towels on the ground. “Oh Y/N. I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“Happened to you too.” You said before moving back to your room. You grabbed a blanket and started to fold it, starting a pile you were taking with you to the Padalecki’s. Once you finished that, you grabbed your pillow too.
“Want any books or anything? You have room in your suitcase.” Jared said as he pointed to it. You shrugged and grabbed a few books you had been wanting to read. After throwing them into the suitcase, you ran to the living room to grab your iPad and chargers.
“We can charge them in the cars if we need to.” Jared said when you thought about not putting them in your bag. You nodded before throwing them in and zipping it up. “This ready to go to the truck?” You nodded once again before he grabbed the suitcase handle and stack of blankets and your pillow with ease. “Go figure out food and I’ll come back to help.”
Once in the kitchen, you grabbed the full water case you had bought a few days before and the almost empty one that you had already opened. You then moved to the fridge to grab the few casserole dishes you had left to eat. You grabbed your travel food carrier and put the casseroles in first before the almost empty case of water in after it. You saw Jared walking back in and asked,
“Is there any food of mine you want? I’ve got everything packed that will definitely go bad before I get back. The rest has already gone bad.” You said while looking at Jared who was looking through your cabinets. He found your snack one and grabbed a few things and shoved them in your carrier.
“That’s all I want.” He smirked. “Ready to go? We can come back in a couple of days if we need to.”
“Ready.” You walked to his truck and he helped you load the water and carrier. As you got into the passenger seat and started to buckle, you said, “thanks for coming to get me and letting me stay with you.”
“Anything for family.” He said smiling at you before driving carefully back to his house.
“But we aren’t family?” You said more as a question.
“You’re my tv daughter, so technically we are.” He said with a laugh. “But in all seriousness, I do see you as family. Me and you have gotten close over these past few months. I can see you as a daughter and I can see you as a little sister.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice.
“Really?” You asked. He nodded his head. “It means a lot to hear you say that. I see you as a big brother.”
“Good.” You saw him smile. “That means you can ask me for anything or do anything and I’ll be there for you. Sorry I didn’t come get you sooner. I thought about it.”
“It’s okay. I tried calling but could never get through. It happens. I’m just glad nothing more serious happened. I’m glad we are all safe.” You said honestly.
“And we are about to get you warm. We have the fire going in the living room and in mine and Gen’s room. Kids have been sleeping with us or on the floor in our room. You’re welcome to make a pallet in front of the fire and crash there.” He said as he pulled into his driveway.
“Sleeping in front of a warm fire sounds lovely right now. Thank you.” You leaned over and gave him a big hug. “I love you Jare.” You said before pulling back to kiss his cheek.
“Love you too y/n/n.” He smiled at you. “Now let’s go take all this in and get you warmed up.”
Tags: @deadcoldhearts​
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Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)
What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane​ who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!
If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.
Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper​ @witchyavenger​ @veuliee2​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @pascal-isaac​
Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P
Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)
Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.
Tagging: @anetteaneta​ @isvvc-pvscvl​ @nowritingonthewall​ @supernovafeather​ (ONLY READ IF 18+)
GIF by @nathan-bateman​
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“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.
Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.
You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.
When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.
“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.
“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.
You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.
“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.
“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.
It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?
Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.
And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.
Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.
“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”
You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.
“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”
Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.
“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”
“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.  
As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.
As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.
Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.
He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.
************
One month later:
You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.
You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.
“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”  
“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”
“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“
“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”
You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.
“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.
Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.
You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.
You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.
In fact, everything about it is familiar.
Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.
It’s your letter.
The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.
The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.
But… It can’t be…?
It’s… unopened.
All the air leaves you lungs.
No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.
You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”
But if he didn’t read it…?
You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.
He doesn’t know.
His words didn’t mean what you…
Oh my god. All this time.  
You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.
He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.
Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.
“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”
“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.
“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”
You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”
Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.
“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.
Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.
“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.
Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.
“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”
“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”
His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.
Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.
You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.
“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.
When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.
“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”
His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.
“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.
For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.
************
One month later:
You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.
“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.
You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.
Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.
Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.
Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.
You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.
As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.
Letters.
Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.
Letters addressed to you.
Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.  
Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.  
You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.
No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.
Could it be true? Is this really true?
Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.
My darling,
There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.
There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.
You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.
You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-
“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.  
“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.
His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.
Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.
At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.
You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.
“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.
“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.
“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.
You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.
Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.
You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.
Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.
You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.
He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”
His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.
“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.
He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.
You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.
“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.
God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.
Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”
You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.
“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.
He loves you.
*******
Later that night:
At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.
So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.
Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.
“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.  
“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”
“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”
He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.
He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.
“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”
“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.
After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”
“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.
“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”
His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.
“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”
You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.
With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.
THE END
Bonus:
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vs-redemption · 3 years
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Ahhh I just discovered your blog and I love it so much! Sorry to be angsty right off the bat, but can I request an Aizawa x reader where he has to assure them that the reader's interests have value or something along the lines? I get shut down so often when I accidentally gush about stuff I find cool (ladybugs) so I'm unfortunately more reserved now but yeah :)
From Cindy: It is now two hours past my usual bedtime and I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer. Before I sleep though, I am posting this as promised. I did reread it a couple times, but my tired brain isn’t up to full capacity. I hope it’s okay. Also, please don’t let people make you feel bad about the things you enjoy. Seriously, I hate when people do that. There’s enough negativity in the word without the good stuff being taken away on top of that. As long as you aren’t hurting anyone else, like what you like and never be ashamed of it! ♥
Ladybugs Aizawa x Reader
Everyone has those certain things they avoid revealing about themselves at the beginning of a relationship, romantic or otherwise, for fear of scaring the other person away. In some extreme cases, people might want to keep those parts of themselves hidden forever. For you, it was a particular hobby of yours being revealed too soon that made you a little cautious when meeting new people. You had a ready list of suitable answers stored in your brain for the inevitable moment someone asked you about your interests. It wasn’t like you were into something taboo or anything like that. It’s just that you’d been on the receiving end of enough judgmental looks to know it was better to keep that particular information to yourself.
When you first started to get to know Aizawa, you’d stuck to topics you knew he’d be able to relate to like music, movies, and books. It was easy enough to find common ground that way and you wouldn’t have to worry about him thinking you were some kind of weirdo. This strategy worked well for you and it wasn’t long before the amazing man was asking to be your boyfriend. Things between the two of you were really great, and on the random day when he called you up and asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and take a walk in the park, your secret pastime was the furthest thing from your mind. You were just looking forward to having a fun date with the guy you were slowly falling in love with.
“The weather is so nice today!” You sigh happily, walking hand in hand with Aizawa through the park he’d taken you to.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” he tilts his head toward you with a content smile, “I got lucky having today off.”
“You really do work way too hard, Shota,” you tell him seriously. “Between your classes and hero work it’s a wonder you have any free time at all.” He lets out a laugh and nods his head in agreement as a planter full of flowers on the side of the path you were walking on catches your eye. Aizawa notices the shift in your attention and slows down a little so you both could admire them.
“They plant new flowers in this park every couple months,” He mentions offhandedly. “It’s one of the reasons I enjoy coming here. Do you know what kind they are?”
“Geraniums,” you answer automatically as your eyes scan over the plant, a smile growing across your face as you spot a ladybug crawling over one of the leaves. You let go of Aizawa’s hand so you could crouch down and reach out to invite the insect into your palm. “Ladybugs are attracted to plants like this because there are plenty of smaller pests for them to feed on.” You turn to look over your shoulder at him as the ladybug crawls over your fingers. “Did you know they can play dead like possums do?”
Aizawa raises his eyebrows and before he has a chance to respond you realize what you’d said. You place the ladybug back onto the plant and stand up quickly, taking his hand into yours again and offering to continue your walk. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously as you lead him forward. Embarrassment washes over you and you internally berate yourself for being awkward. You try to go back to eating your ice cream normally, hoping to move past the moment quickly.
“I actually didn’t know that,” he replies after a pause. “I’m guessing they do that as a way to avoid getting eaten by predators?”
“Yeah,” you simply nod, knowing you could probably give an entire lecture on the topic but the thought of boring him to death held you back.
“That’s interesting,” Aizawa continues to watch you for a moment. “Are you really into gardening or something? You looked pretty excited for a minute. We can go back over there if you want.”
“No, it’s fine,” You assure him with a smile. “I just… think ladybugs are kind of cool, but I know that’s a bit weird so…”
“I don’t think that’s weird,” Aizawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles.
“Maybe,” you say after a small glance up at him. “Still, I’ve been told that it’s annoying when I go off on tangents and I don’t want to bother you.”
“Hey,” Aizawa stops walking and gives you a serious look. “You’re allowed to talk about the things that make you happy, especially around me.” He lets out a laugh of embarrassment of his own while giving your hand a squeeze. “You’ve never met any of my students but you let me rant about them to you all the time. Is that annoying to you?”
“No! Of course not!” You assure him, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s nice that you’re so passionate about your job and I like seeing the joy on your face when you talk about them.” Aizawa returns your smile and nudges your arm playfully.
“I feel the same way about you,” he confesses. “I want to know all about the things you love. If something is important to you, it’s important to me. And if it brings a smile to your face, that’s even better.” You both continue on your walk as Aizawa hums thoughtfully. “And honestly, nobody should judge you or make you feel like you’re not allowed to talk about things that interest you anyway. Your hobbies make you who you are and if everyone liked the same stuff, life would be extremely boring.”
“Thanks Shota.” You could tell he was being genuine by the look on his face, and it felt nice to have a bit of validation. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“I’m not just saying it,” He assures you, “I truly mean it. And unfortunately, there are always going to be people who try to make you feel bad for being happy, but it’s usually because they’re unhappy themselves. It’s easier said than done, but we have to try not to let people like that get us down.” Aizawa leans in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Just remember that you can always come to me to rant and rave about whatever you’d like.” The pep talk was short and sweet, but his words did give you a little more confidence. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more open about your unique interests in the future.
“So,” Aizawa speaks up again a moment later, “when did you start getting into ladybugs?” You smile at his question, hesitating for just a second before launching into the full story.
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exolssecretsanta · 2 years
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*****Sign Up Closes on 10 October*****
Hello EXO-Ls!
Welcome to the “2021 EXO-Ls Secret Santa (SS) Online Gift Exchange.”
We had such a wonderful experience with last year’s EXO-Ls Secret Santa (SS) Online Gift Exchange that I have decided to do it again this year.  I have made some changes to this year’s rules so please read closely.  I hope the 2021 project helps bring you all lots of joy and holiday fun.  
Please join me in this EXO fandom online holiday gift exchange.  How does it work? You sign up to make an online gift for someone and someone else makes one for you.  Simple and fun! Everyone will receive their gift the week before Christmas!  You don’t have to have a EXO blog to join.  If you are a fan - then you can join.
This is a tumblr online gift exchange so all gifts must be digital.  Gift examples: fanfiction, gifsets, playlists, mood boards, photoshop edits, tumblr icons/headers, etc. (If you want to try and make some edits/mood boards here is a website that offers a free editor. https://www.canva.com/create/mood-boards/
The first thing you need to do is sign up HERE .  Once I close the sign up window I will randomly match you up with someone else based on the criteria you filled out in the sign up form.
THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT:  SECRET SANTA is to be kept a SECRET.   Do not tell the person you are making the gift for who you are.  It’s a secret until you reveal yourself when you post their gift on tumblr.  
Last year we required participants to send Anonymous messages (of positivity or questions to personalize their gifts, etc) to the person they were making the gift for, but there were difficulties with that.  So, I am not making it a requirement this year.  If you still wish to do this, please do.  I will however require participants to turn on their ASK inbox and allow for Anonymous messages.  That will help those who do wish to send anon messages. 
You’ll have a lot of time to make your gift.  I will have one check-in date to see how you all are doing.  I understand that real life can get in the way, so this check-in date is a way for you to let me know if you can complete your gift on time.  This secret santa exchange is meant to be fun and enjoyable - not stressful so, you do not have to wait on the check-in date to make your gift.  Make it sooner rather than later and all you have to do is post it during the post date period below.
Here are the important dates:
Sign Ups Open: 7 September
Sign Ups Close: 10 October 
Gift Assignment notification sent to your tumblr direct message: 14-17th October. 
Check-in : 4 December
GIFTS POSTED: you can post your gifts any day during 16-18th December. 
Here are the RULES: *** THESE HAVE CHANGED FROM LAST YEAR ***
You must follow this blog and please reblog/signal boost this informational post.  
Please tag your Gift post with the following: name of the blog receiving your gift and our blog name: @EXOLSSECRETSANTA (the reason I ask you to include our blog name on your post is to help ensure I get the notification. I will be re-blogging your gift to our blog for everyone to enjoy.  Make sure you have the tag EXOLSSECRETSANTA21 in your first 5 tags. 
3)  Make sure your blog’s ASK inbox is ON and TURN ON/allow anonymous asks.
4)  All the gifts must be NEW CONTENT.  Please do not recycle a previous fic, gif-sets, etc.
Fanfiction gifts must be 1K+ words. If it will be a WIP you must post the first chapter as your Gift.
Gif-sets: 4+ gifs
Fanart: 1+ 
Tumblr icons or headers : 4+ icons/headers
Edits: 4+ small pngs or 2+ large (540x?)
Playlists: 10+ songs
Mood boards: 2+ boards
Let’s all have some fun!! 
XO your Secret Santa moderator: @mel-loves-kdramas
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