#never think something is unimportant in history
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Okay, the little “History is…” talk in the new Amelia Project is making me emotional. Because, as a history buff, my absolute favourite part of history IS the people and the individual stories! One of my favourite things is to read the correspondences of people who never thought that their stories would ever be worth telling or would be important to the historical record.
“History is just wars and dates.”
“No. It’s people! It’s like… it’s like… what is it like? It’s like reading sci-fi but instead of the future it’s the past. But it’s still all stories and cultures and people and they’re different and you never really meet any of them-“
It’s such a lovely way of putting it. And, as Kozlowski points out, the past is still tangible and still impacts and exists in our modern world. Even if it bears little resemblance to what it once was 100 or even 500 years ago. Wars and dates are how we categorise the past, what we define eras by. But it does not give an accurate representation of the living, human parts of the world. How people still played practical jokes, how cultures were evolving or clinging to stay alive, or how for all of time people have always been here just as we are now. Just in different settings. And you know what, that’s beautiful.
The past is horrific and brutal and ugly. It’s also inspiring and worth remembering the stories that make it all up, the threads in the tapestry that is continuing to be woven. It’s about significant names such as Moliere and his death but it SIMULTANEOUSLY about the joy of that one day you found the perfect waffle.
#sorry for kinda going off#but I’m a massive history buff#(if you follow me on main you know this)#and it kills me whenever ppl disregard the past as Just Dates#or as being ONLY about the major events and Important People#so maybe I’m just reading WAY too much into this#but sometimes history is just about the joy of a good waffle#:’)#the amelia project#what ALSO kills me is that a lot of the people who I’m extremely interested in knowing the stories of weren’t literate#or what they did leave behind for the future is destroyed#never think something is unimportant in history#I promise you there will always be at least a handful of people who devote parts of their lives to wanting to know more#who become enamored by your story about dealing with the postal service in 1810#it’s human to connect#mundanity is what allows us to connect most deeply with people from hundreds of years ago#history
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I've seen some folks saying that the reference to The Great Gatsby in TBOB was just a joke Alex didn't put deeper meaning into—which might be true, IDK the man's motives for choosing Gatsby specifically—and that there's no way the book has any deeper relevance to Bill's character beyond the eye doctor thing—which is totally wrong. Whether or not Alex intended parallels, there ARE parallels. So, for those of you who didn't read or didn't pay attention to The Great Gatsby:
the book's about a guy who started out as an unimportant loser with starry-eyed dreams, who very quickly gained a lot of power/gold and now presents himself as this dapper fancy well-dressed super important guy.
He constantly throws huge parties, he's got a reputation for being THE party host. But it's a sham, he's pouring all these resources into this party to make himself look so cool but he's living at the very edge of his means.
He lies about his history, lies about how he got his money (spoilers: he's a criminal), lies even in how he presents his personality—he's a con artist, he's always wearing a mask.
The reason he's doing all this—putting on the mask, making himself look so great—is because he's trying to reach across this very thin boundary to a better life he can see, JUST out of reach, so close but something he's never quite clever enough and rich enough and persuasive enough to reach. Every night at his parties he stares at his goal, he can LITERALLY SEE it, he just can't reach it himself.
The best he can do is briefly charm and dazzle someone on the other side of this social boundary, but he can never quite persuade that person to help him cross over; in fact no one on the other side of the boundary thinks he has a right to cross it.
He finds somebody—the guy narrating the book about him—who's very lonely, socially awkward, and disillusioned, whom he can easily awe with his stories and persuade to help him reach his goal, come on please, it'll be harmless! (It is not harmless.)
He loses control over the act he's putting on and over the people who only follow him around as long as he's still got the resources to keep them entertained and loyal.
It ends with him getting murdered by a guy he has LITERALLY never met before—by which point everyone has realized that he's a nobody making it all up as he goes along who was just desperately chasing the illusion of a good life and the admiration of everyone around him.
The narrator ends up disillusioned with him and the whole culture around him of grasping and clawing for a glitzy glamorous life at the expense of the regular people who are manipulated, trampled, and discarded in the process.
Now tell me that Gatsby doesn't have any parallels to Bill's character. And this is just based off reading the book a decade ago—there's probably tons of little details I don't even remember. The book may well have been chosen as a coincidence, it did recently hit the public domain. But if so, it's a VERY GOOD coincidence.
#the book of bill#the book of bill spoilers#gravity falls#(and yknow what this post is targeted to the GF fandom but since I DID just write a whole post about the book I might as well tag—)#the great gatsby
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Listen to me Suzanne Collins did not have to give Katniss and Peeta a history before the games. She did NOT have to do that. She could have just had their story begin when Peeta's name was called. She could have had them be total strangers until the moment of the reaping.
Like: "And the boy tribute is... Peeta Mellark!" Katniss: Who's that? Or she could have made them vaguely familiar with each other! Peeta's name is called and Katniss just thinks, Oh, I know that name! He's in my class, actually. Poor boy... Anyway!
Either way, SC could have written the rest of the story exactly the same! I think many authors would have done that! Because if Peeta's purpose in the book was to be Gale's competition, to be one of the 3 corners of a love triangle, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WAY TO DO IT!! But that's NOT how she did it because that's NOT what Peeta is.
And what is he? To Katniss, Peeta's someone who saved her and her family and received nothing in return except a beating. Peeta's someone she has had her eye on but has never worked up the courage to talk to. Peeta's someone she associates with kindness and hope. And all this before the start of the events of the book! Just because WE, the READERS, met Gale before Peeta and immediately felt a connection with him does NOT mean that was Katniss's experience! And that's what SC is trying to tell us!
To dismiss Katniss and Peeta's past as unimportant or inconsequential compared to whatever Katniss and Gale have in the present is to fundamentally misunderstand Katniss as a character and, as a result, condemn oneself to never fully understand the choices she makes in the future.
Suzanne Collins wrote it that way on purpose because she had something to say. And no one will ever be able to convince me that something wasn't "It was always going to be Peeta".
#thg#everlark#peeta mellark#katniss everdeen#the hunger games#sorry i hope this one's not too harsh#i just has to let it out lol#I'm not saying people only like gale because they misunderstand SC's writing#obviously everyone has preferences and that's great snd normal#but SC wrote Katniss to have preferences too?#and those preferences are pretty subtle at times I'll admit#but sometimes they're so glaringly obvious#i struggle to empathize with people who don't understand these books and honestly that's a me problem#but it really is difficult when people seem to hate Katniss because she didn't make THEIR choices#okay rant over
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Reason why Harding is perfect for the role of being the Reconnection to the Stone
I think her background as a nobody surfacer really matters.
She was literally just an unimportant npc, her history is unremarkable, she's never even think of trying to bond with the stone because she is a surfacer. BUT she was still able to reconnect to the titan, to her roots, her heritage.
Add to this is how she was kinda always freaked out about magic in general. she doesn't really believe in All This Shit™ and then has to go through all this journey to reconcile with her past and her people's past.
All if this ties to her arc as a people pleaser, as someone who doesn't truly know who she is and where she belongs, resulting in her acting a bit fake as called out by Lucanis.
Things got even extra spicy if she's the one who died in the end, because her "soul" and body will be returned to the titan and live on with them, to be the first dwarf to ever do something so great.
All of this means something to me, it feels hopeful and ... socialistic? Lmao for a lack of better word. If it were to be Dagna, bc she's always been a remarkable and curious "true" dwarf, it wouldn't mean as much. To me at least.
#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#lace harding#cryptic na posting#i might add that varric was more likely the first to be returned to a reawakened stone but alas this is not about him
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Hi guys so story abt me and my SP so you get entretained while I answer all your questions heh, and because you're like my friends now and I like to yap to you so:
Basically my bestfriend and I loove to go to this other class, let's say we are x grade class A and this class is C (this is how classes work here in my country).
So basically the people in that class is soo fun so we literally are spending more time there than in our own class, and we've like befriended a lot of them.
Okay, then, there's this guy which I never cared about, let's call him S. He has a friend which my bestie and I always jokingly argue with, and he was always there standing and staring like not saying anything.
So, sometimes we stay at that class's class instead of our own, for example they have P.E and we sneak there bcs who the hell wants to study maths or history. And this S we never actually talked to him. I think he was the only one of that class which we never really talked to.
Anyways, I like watching football sometimes, and in instagram there's this thing called notas which I do not know how to say it in english. I think ig notes?? Whatever basically I always like comment when my fav team wins or when there's some good score or whatever. Now S suddenly liked my note and my bestie's once.
We thought it was just normal like we shared the same opinion and stuff. Some weeks later my bestie and I are walking out of the school and we see this guy giving his gf snacks. We were just chilling and talking about it and stuff. I simply said "I wish I had a bf or a guy who likes me who gives me snacks after school too" like without thinking twice, a random tought you know. And guys. I tell you my bestie when she gets some random idea she does it and she doesn't give a fuck. She says, let's text S. Like out of nowhere. And I was laughing my ass off because I tought she was joking. So she goes, takes her phone and texts him saying: "Hey S my friend Safa wants sweets. If you could bring it to us soon we would appreciate that, thanks."
I was simply dying from laughter like what could I do? Besides, this guy has like a ton of followers and we tought he never answered or anything, so I didn't pay much attention to it.
Guys literally half an hour later he answers back. And that's when everything starts.
Basically from then my bestie and I started the jokes and the teasing and stuff. Like we talked to him three days consecutively just saying random stuff and teasing and demanding our sweets jokingly.
I really tought he is a fun guy. And when once when I got home after staying with my bestie he textes me. Like alone. Like knowing my bestie and I are not together. And well guys we start talking and he was really funny (in the sense that all we do is to swear at each other and making dark humor jokes), and everytime there was some football match we would start talking about it.
Now the thing is, recently I started liking this guy a bit but I didn't really payed much attention to it because he seems like a playboy. Turns out he only kissed one girl in his life and I know her and they're not together since april and stuff. And how did he tell me all of that? Because we were texting and I said: "Wait I have to go to do something I will be right back." And he said: "go and kiss other men?" with like this slight jelaous tone and I was laughing my ass off and I replied: "No, S, I dont do that. but i bet you do." and he was swearing with his life that he didn't and that he only kissed one girl in his life and stuff. Whatever that's not important but I love to overshare unimportant details guys.
Anyways we recently have been talking a lot more and stuff and he is funny so yep. He is not ugly either (my bestie doesn't think the same HAHAHA) and he is overall nice so yep, guess who is manifesting their SP being obsessed hehehehe? Yeah, me.
Now he cannot function through the day without texting me at least once and neither sleep without texting me a good night.
I LOVE LOA SO MUCH GUYSS MANIFESTING YOUR SP IS SO SO EASY AND FUN AND HEHE (i will make a post soon)
So that's all guys. Pls be patient with me if I am not answering your questions quickly, I like to answer the questions calmly and giving a lot of time to each one.
Anyways that's it guys. Im so happy you can't see my face AND BTW TODAY WE GOT OUR CLASSES JOINED TOGETHER AND WE TALKED A LOT AND HIS FRIENDS WERE SO NICE (even if they all looked like gengsters) AND I LAUGHED SO MUCH I LOVE MY LIFE
Lots lots lots of love,
Safa
#loa blog#loa tumblr#loablr#loassumption#manifesation#loassblog#master manifestor#manifesting#void#void state#pure consciousness#pure conciousness#3d#4d reality#4d#successstories#reality shifting#success story#success#you already have it#affirmations#desired reality#reality#desired life#non dualism#robotic affirming#loass
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Let's talk about some lesser known symptoms of autism! Maybe this will help some of you get a broader perspective on what this can be like. There is a whole grab bag of symptoms of autism, but here are some ones you may not know that you have.
Focus on truth
What does this mean? Well glad you asked. This is the focus on facts and logic rather than anything else. People have shown this as autistic people may refusing to lie because it goes against what they find as true. But that's not always the case.
Have you ever used logic to try and figure out your emotions?
Are you someone who doesn't understand why others may speculate when the current knowledge is right there? (such as subtext versus canon knowledge or theoretical arguments)
Do you find it frustrating when others avoid their problems as a way to avoid figuring out negative things? (such as avoiding conflict in a friend group)
Is it easy for you to talk about your strengths and flaws? Do you know your likes, dislikes and limits pretty well?
High context communication
This is preference on details and the full context of any situation. Often going into great detail and backstory to anything.
Do you feel as though you need to overexplain to give the person everything they need to know?
Have you ever apologized to someone by explaining the deep and meaningful reasons of why you did it, before you said you were sorry? And maybe even felt upset or confused why they reacted badly?
Have you ever felt stressed out because you wanted to give others full detail but they either interrupted you or cut you off?
Are you stressed out by people who tell you what to do and not why they want you to do it?
Are you ever told that you talk back a lot?
Do you prefer recipes versus verbal/vague instructions? (All the things that you need such as ingredients, measurements, prep time, etc.)
Do you really like watching deep dives and knowing about the whole history of something you're even vaguely interested in?
Identity diffusion
This is not everyone's experience, and it is common in a variety of other disorders such as DID and BPD. However, it is when you do not know who you are in regards to others. This is also known as identity disturbance.
Have you ever felt like an outsider without knowing why?
Are you deeply interested on what other people think of you? Especially if it's all the time?
Do you really like taking personality tests and quizzes? Are you interested in horoscopes?
Do you feel like you don't fit in any one specific group? Either being a loner, or hopping in between many different groups?
Do you ever feel weirder than the "weird kids" group? Do you not really get along or feel like you belong with them?
Do you have low self esteem when it comes to comparing yourself to your friends? Do you feel like they're better or more capable than you?
Do you feel drastically unimportant and not as interesting or cool as everyone else?
Have you ever related to narratives surrounding a character that is the last of their kind?
Do you feel like your identity is a vast and gaping void, that even if you learn a little bit, that you'll never know everything?
Internalized repetition
This is one of those traits that not every autistic person experiences, but that some might. You could say that for all autistic traits, but hey, good to know regardless. Because of internalized repetition, you may not do many external stims, besides vocal.
Do you listen to a song over and over again? Perhaps having a playlist on repeat?
When stressed out, do you type the same word or phrase over and over again?
Do you like looking at the same things, such as the same color or the same artist's works?
Do you really like certain patterns, crystals or aesthetics?
Do you enjoy games with recognizable fighting patterns? (Such as character rotation, boss battle rotation, etc.)
Struggling to connect to others *
This is something that's been characterized by struggling to connect to others through their emotions, but the opposite is actually true for many autistic people. *I will be talking about those who struggle to connect to others who are emotionally distant or unavailable. Being emotionally distant or not showing emotions externally is a trait that many autistic people share, but for those without alexithymia, they may struggle to understand why anyone wouldn't like to talk about their emotions. I don't know the specific symptom term for this, so please bare with me. If anyone would like to inform me about what this is called, please tell me.
Do you struggle to talk with dry texters, or tend to over-examine people's tone through text?
Do you have anxious attachment?
Do you feel disconnected with many other autistic people and struggle to make friends or talk to them?
Do you feel embarrassment or shame with being emotionally sensitive?
Have you fallen down the rabbit hole of things like starseeds, star children or empaths?
Do you want to talk about serious emotions a lot, even when its not appropriate?
Do you trauma dump or wish people would become more emotionally intimate with you? Do you enjoy it when people share their deep traumas with you, even if it's triggering?
Are you constantly reassurance seeking?
There is plenty more symptoms out there, and these are just a few that stood out to me, because I think I may be autistic. I've always related somewhat, but never connected the dots. But there are reasons for that, such as identity diffusion and thinking I'm different from everyone else no matter what. I struggled because I didn't seem to have a lot of the outward and visible symptoms that were often talked about. I thought every autistic person had alexithymia, when that's just not true. My best friend, who has similar symptoms to me, along with another close friend of mine, have a similar presentation of autism. And it's taken quite a bit for me to accept or process. I feel like I'm faking my experiences just because I've self diagnosed before. And I'm angry that ADHD isn't given enough significance.
But I think I might be autistic, and this article that I based this post off of, confirmed it. So here's my post informing and coming out on that. You can be autistic and highly masking without actually knowing what's going on is masking. You can be autistic and have a spectrum of verbality, you can be autistic and struggle to connect to anyone who isn't immediately emotionally intimate with you. You can be autistic and not relate at all to other autistic people.
You're not alone.
#babey posts#actually autistic#audhd#autism#autism spectrum disorder#i know its a spectrum disorder but bro it doesn't feel like it#its broader than you might realize#you can be autistic and struggle to accept it#this has been the most frustrating and painful realization#i just. i feel a lot of negative feelings at myself about this#but i want to curate a place for people to exist without judgement#and before the anti self dx ppl come in here. this has never been the blog for you.#if youre like this. you belong here.#and if you just understand this. you also belong here.#you're not alone
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On Rain World lore and it's implementation within the game.
This is kindof a random ramble I went on in a Discord chat and just feel like sharing elsewhere. (also note this is all primarily in reference to the original game, Survivor's story.)
I honestly think too many miss the forest for the trees a bit with RW, in terms of how important the lore is, if that makes sense. I talked with somebody about first-time experiences with the game and they said they'd watched a number of lore explanation videos on YT before starting, because of some reason along the lines of "I didn't trust the game to deliver its own story properly." To me this is almost saddening to hear because I really feel that misses the point of why the game has it's lore to begin with.
To me, while playing, any tidbits i learned about history or other information contributed to a feeling like the world I was navigating had a very real history that saturated it, yet one that I would be unable to grasp fully. It is an illusory feeling of realness, given how it is experienced. The game is mechanically not designed to incentivize collecting many information pearls, especially when in the original game you can literally just drop them off a cliff and lose them forever. You get the feeling often like you are bound to never be able to get everything, nor would you even probably want to put in the effort, so the illusion actually stays stronger because of that. Your mind wanders speculating about every little detail, whether intention truly existed behind it or not, because it feels like it did. You learned that it might have. Maintaining that illusion while playing I think is the primary reason they were included, not actually the experience of "knowing" the history. Rain World in general seems to have a thematic fixation on the simple idea that individuals have limited perspectives. Joar Jakobsson has said that one of the core ideas behind Rain World was to recreate the life of a "rat in Manhattan." That is to say, a creature that understands how to find food, hide, and live in a complex man-made structure, that cannot understand it's structuring purpose or why it was built. The very core issue of the iterators, is that the solution to the "great problem" intrinsically has to lie with knowledge that could only be obtained from "the other side." They are corporeal beings trying to know something that pertains to something outside corporeal reality. Yet pursuit of knowledge is very important to creatures like ourselves. Collecting any individual pearl is mostly an exercise in doing a lot just for little bits of knowledge. There is a lot of understanding of just how significant wanting to know more is, even something unimportant, when you are left in the dark the way you are in the game. Most information pearls you deliver are literally completely useless to know about, but they feel personally important, especially in how finding them relates to your connection to the iterators. My primary motivation to find pearls in my first play was to spend more time with Moon. On a very real emotional level, Moon felt like my only friend in the world while I played. On a mechanical level, she does literally nothing. But Rain World manages to operate on a very emotional, even instinctual level with how it's designed. I wanted to be in her company and have something to give her. Because I am alone, and lost. So something along those lines is why I felt saddened to hear the sentiment like Rain World somehow "fails" to deliver it's "story." The purpose of the game is not to find pearls and hear about some grand narrative. At it's core, Rain World is a game that's design was inspired by nature, and it's use of history within the world relates to us as a player the way history relates to us as people. It is relayed through people reading from records created by parties with their own perspectives, and connects us abstractly to a sensation that there is more out there than our own lives. That is a feeling you have as a player, and ultimately the true story that Rain World tells is the memories you have playing it. What you did, saw, and felt. The same as how our story is that of our own lives. That is the purpose of the game.
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So I went nuts about three super unimportant NPCs hanging out in Tartarus and I'm now releasing my headcanons into the wild. Only Derc has a name and dialogue in-game, so I guess the asari are my OCs.
Some fun headcanons:
Sophri's dad was a hanar diplomat, mom is an ambassador
Iyenna's dad was a vorcha who cleaned streets, mom was a dancer
Sophri taught Iyenna how to swim when they were students at the same university on Thessia. That's when they fell in love!
Derc has been kicked out of three separate communities for embezzlement (his clan's company, the Nexus, and Kadara Port)
He had hardly met any aliens prior to joining the Initiative, and is still dreadful at reading non-salarian social cues
Iyenna will lie about anything for fun (did you know Sophri is the secret princess of Kahje? And that she came to Andromeda to escape an arranged marriage?)
Derc falls for Iyenna's lies 50% of the time, Sophri never does (she knows her too well)
Iyenna is a big fan of batarian metal (the other two... are not)

BACKSTORY SUMMARY: The asari were a pre-established couple even before Andromeda. They met Derc during the Nexus uprising when Sophri got wounded and Derc (reluctantly) let the ladies use the medical supplies he'd hoarded in a storage closet. On Kadara the three discovered they were safer and could get more stuff done if they stuck together, and that dynamic evolved into them straight-up living in the same shipping container (hehe shipping) and who knows what else!!
More detailed backstory beneath the readmore.
The two asari met each other in a Thessian university where Sophri was studying to become an interior designer and Iyenna was getting the engineering degree her mom always told her she should go for. Both were struggling in their studies for different reasons (Sophri was incredibly shy and meek, Iyenna had no study skills), but managed to graduate with each other's help and fell in love along the way.
Sophri's mother didn't approve of their relationship ("but your kids will be pureblood :( why not find a nice drell instead"), and Iyenna had recently lost her own mother to a sudden illness. Both of their fathers were also long gone, so when they heard of the Initiative, there was no one around to talk them out of leaving for Andromeda. It was primarily Iyenna's idea, as she's by far the more adventurous half of the pair, but her enthusiasm quickly brought Sophri on board as well.
They joined the Nexus uprising on a whim, thinking it'd be a wild but ultimately harmless little riot... However, they quickly regretted their actions when Sophri got badly wounded. Looking for help, they stumbled upon Derc and his secret stash of Valuable Stuff in a storage closet. Derc fainted at the sight of blood (yeah....) but once awake again, he supplied the ladies with the products they needed and gave the panicking Iyenna instructions on how to use them (from under a desk) (not looking) (so he wouldn't faint again). Somehow they managed to save Sophri's nearly severed head tentacle just before security discovered them and took them all in.
After all three were exiled from the Nexus and ended up in Kadara Port, Derc attempted to restart his stash of Valuable Stuff and swiftly got himself banished from the Port as well. (he also got punched in the face for the first time in his life and he was SHOOK :( consequences for his own actions? they just keep happening??) The ladies were like "that man will not survive on his own, we have to adopt him" and the rest is history.
They live in a shipping container near Tartarus, where Iyenna works as a bouncer (and occasionally engineer when something breaks...) and where Derc does most of his networking and scheming.
Iyenna makes sure no thugs hassle Derc, and Derc has sort of come around to the idea that he might NEED friends in this stupid galaxy that doesn't work by the rules he was used to, and so he makes an effort to repay the kindness he's given. Example: the ladies had to leave half their luggage behind when they were exiled from the Nexus, but Derc got it all smuggled to Kadara for them. uwu
Sophri's dream career as an interior designer hasn't quite taken off, but she's got stable work in construction as she's very good at moving heavy things with her biotics. Comes to Tartarus on her lunch breaks. She's still processing everything that's happened and probably regrets coming to Andromeda the most out of the three; getting scarred and exiled was not something she'd even considered an option, yet now it was her reality. As the trio settle into a new normal, however, her regrets do dissipate over time. The one thing she REALLY misses now is swimming. Kadara pool when
#mass effect#mass effect andromeda#derc#salarian#asari#onedismay ocs#onedismay art#a lot of you deduced who the ladies' dad species were :D yes they were hanar and vorcha
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aly!! !!! congratulations on being older than you were a year ago 💚 it has been a pleasure to be your mutual...
i would enjoy (cry over) prompt 47: "given your history, i should have known better." with alhaitham.... angst (;∀;)
「 alone 」
⤷ info: alhaitham x gn!reader || angst, hurt/no comfort || wc: 626
⤷ warnings: messy break-up, mentions of injury
⤷ extra: june!! hello hi thank you so much :> it's been great knowing you, as well! I hope you like this hehe
The room was too quiet. Alhaitham stood by the window, his back to you, staring out into the dark expanse of the Sumeru night. The moonlight cast long, sharp shadows across the room, accentuating the tension that hung in the air.
You sat at the table, your hands clenched into fists on the surface, trembling with an emotion you couldn’t name—was it anger, or something closer to despair? Your voice broke the silence, brittle and strained.
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
He didn’t turn around. His reflection in the window barely moved, save for the faint rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. "It wasn’t necessary for you to know."
Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood abruptly. "Not necessary? You were ambushed. Injured. You could’ve died! And you think I didn’t need to know?"
"You couldn’t have done anything about it," he replied, his tone as flat as ever. "What would telling you have accomplished? Other than adding unnecessary worry to your life?"
Your breath hitched, your hands shaking as you gripped the back of the chair. "Unnecessary worry? Alhaitham, I care about you. Knowing you were out there, hurt and alone—do you even understand what that feels like?"
"You were overreacting," he said, finally turning to face you. His expression was calm, his teal eyes cool and detached. "I handled the situation. I always do. This isn’t something to dwell on."
You stared at him, your chest tightening with every measured word that left his mouth. "How could you say that? How could you stand there and act like this didn’t matter?"
"Because it didn’t," he said bluntly. "Not in the grand scheme of things. If I burdened you with every minor setback, we’d never move forward."
"Minor setback?" Your voice rose, cracking with the weight of unspoken pain. "This isn’t just about you, Alhaitham! I thought we were partners, but you keep me out of everything! Am I just—just someone you tolerate? Someone convenient to have around?"
He hesitated for a moment. Just a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Enough to break something fragile between you.
"You’re important to me," he said finally, but the words felt hollow, like a practiced response to an unimportant question. "But I make decisions based on logic, not sentiment. That’s who I am."
You laughed bitterly, tears stinging your eyes. "Logic? You think this was about logic? Gods, I should have known better. Given your history—how you push everyone away—I should have known you’d do the same to me."
"That’s not fair," he said, his voice still maddeningly even. "I didn’t ask you to—"
"To what? Care about you? Worry about you?" You stepped back, your voice trembling as you fought to keep it steady. "No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem. You don’t need anyone, do you? Not me, not anyone else. You’re perfectly fine on your own."
Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Alhaitham didn’t argue. He didn’t try to stop you when you turned toward the door, your heart breaking with every step.
"You’re right," you said quietly, your hand on the doorknob. "You don’t need me. And I—I can’t keep pretending that doesn’t hurt."
The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Alhaitham alone in the quiet room. He stared at the space you had occupied moments ago, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned back to the window, the moonlight cold and distant on his face.
And he stayed there, alone, as the night stretched on—alone still when the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, and alone even as the world around him awakened to a new day he would face in solitude.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
#moonstruck!#��� birth of a supernova」#astronetwrk#genshin x reader#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin angst#alhaitham angst#genshin impact angst#genshin x reader angst#alhaitham x reader angst#genshin impact x reader angst
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ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ you belong with me. (dreeki's version)


• pairing: popular!ni-ki x caring friend!f.reader • cw // toxic relationship • fluff
syn: it takes ni-ki a long time to realize who is there for him and who isn't, but he gets there somehow, don’t worry :]
a/n: this is my first time writing an actual fic so pls be kind 🥹 i will hear this song in concert in a couple of days so that's where the idea came from 🫶
- constructive criticism is appreciated! let me know what you liked/disliked!!🙌
_________________________________________
you always saw ni-ki walking around the school hallways. it would be a lie to say you hadn’t noticed him way before he noticed you; he was quite popular, of course. how could he not be when he was tall, handsome, funny, he had decent grades and he was even on the basketball team. everybody wanted to be his friend, but not many got the chance to. he was always sweet to people approaching him wherever he was, but only a few could get close to his heart.
a fortunate year came by, 11th grade, when nishimura riki moved classes; that same day was when you discovered that ni-ki is just a nickname…interesting.
you couldn’t help but peek at him from time to time during class or even during break when he was hanging out with his friends. he saw you staring once and just smiled before turning his head to the teacher that started talking about something that didn’t seem as interesting as ni-ki’s smile, you thought.
_________________________________________
you will always remember when you first talked to the boy, thanks to a history project assigned to you during the first month of your 3rd year of high school. he slowly walked to your desk and introduced himself.
“hi, i’m ni-ki! i’m in a hurry to get to practice but i wanted to come and give you my number so we could decide later on how we’re going to work on the project!” he gave you a friendly smile, that seemed a bit forced but with the best intentions behind it, and handed you his phone with the contacts keypad opened.
for a second you just stared at the boy. you had never seen him up-close and you had to admit that he was even more handsome than you had thought initially.
“ah, yea, of course!” you said a few seconds too late than you should have.
after that, ni-ki would always greet you in the morning before classes would start, which would seem unimportant to someone watching the two of you, but you knew that ni-ki never greeted first, unless it was his small group of friends. it was a nice feeling being noticed by him. even if you knew it was a bad way of thinking, still, sometimes you found yourself feeling special because someone so popular was your acquaintance.
greetings turned into small talk, small talk turned into eating together sometimes and eating together turned into late night texts with ni-ki. in only a few months, you managed to become someone he seemed to trust, judging by the way he opened his heart to you almost every night before you thought of him for a couple of hours you went to bed.
some nights you simply had silly discussions about a tv show you both liked, other nights you argued about what sauce goes best with fries. but the nights that made a difference between the two of you were the ones when you were both tired and every topic would lead to a more heartfelt conversation.
he told you how he felt pressured by the other students at school to always be the best. even if his family was very nice and supportive, he still felt suffocated by everything around him.
| niks 🤘
yk..
the only time when i feel like i can just be myslelf
myself*
is when im talking to you, y/n
idk how or why but
yea
thanks for always helping me out
i really like being around you
you make me feel safe :]
youre a great friend.
| y/n
awe ni-ki.. :(
im glad you feel safe with me
i feel the same when im with you
and also
thank you for giving me a chance at being your friend
| niks 🤘
oh of course!
youre actually way cooler than i thought before i moved classes yk
| y/n
you.. knew me before?
huh?
| niks🤘
well duh
i always saw you during lunch, but you seemed pretty reserved so i didnt dare interrupt your peace
| y/n
oh.. :]
hah.. so he did notice you before. maybe you weren’t as sly as you thought you were. you felt butterflies in your stomach simply thinking about how ni-ki might have looked at you and wanted to befriend you for a split second.
_________________________________________
being nishimura riki’s friend was quite hard sometimes. girls would start coming up to you asking for his number, people would always spread rumours about how you two are dating but that ni-ki is way out of your league ouch, or how you were stupid to think that he actually likes you. that’s what being friends with a popular student comes with; but you learned how to deal with it. partially…
you tried to ignore the negativity coming from strangers, but at night, when every interaction you had and every conversation you’ve held with different students replayed in your mind, you realized all of it was actually affecting you pretty badly. and it only got worse when ni-ki got a girlfriend…
struggling to move past that one major tiny factor that was now changing your friendship was keeping you up at night. you would see and talk to ni-ki less now, and whenever you would he’d seem in a bad mood or just really sad. it really made you question his realtionship. you would still make him small presents and text him supportive things and you were doing all of that because you deeply cared about him and just wanted to cheer him up. despite always telling you how he encounters a lot of problems in his relationship, he still wanted to make it work, saying he’s fine.
until one night when it all finally made sense to him. he came by your house because he had a really bad argument with his girlfriend. as always you were there for him and while hugging you it was like something clicked in his brain. he raised his head from your neck and looked at your eyes intensely. you felt yourself blush, not knowing what to say.
“what is it?” “thank you” he said. “for always putting up with me. and..” he slightly giggled “for all the presents you gave me. i’m really sorr-” “no, niks it’s fine” you quickly cut his apology off. “please just hear me out, y/n. i’m really sorry for never properly thanking you for everything. you were doing so much for me while i was mindlessly chasing after someone who doesn’t even understand me. i…” he paused for a second and you gave him a small reassuring nod that he can take his time. “i think i only now realized that you truly were always by my side. you cheer for me during my happy days and you comfort me during the hard ones. i was too blind to notice that. and i’m really sorry for that. but i can clearly see it now, y/n. i like you” your eyes widened at his words. “like really really like you and while i would really love to be your boyfriend i wouldn’t want you to think that this is like some kind of rebound that i’m trying to-” you kissed him. how else would you stop him from rambling so much, right? ;)
it was now ni-ki’s turn to widen his eyes when you both parted from each other. “omg i am so sorry!! i didn’t mean to do that but you wouldn’t stop talking about-” it was his turn to take you by surprise. but this time when you both looked at each other you started laughing. “so…” “so.. do you maybe, just maybe, want to be my boyfriend, ni-ki?” he couldn’t hide his smile anymore. “i promise we’ll take things slow” you assured him. “yes, y/n! i would love to be your boyfriend.” you both giggled, awkwardly sitting on your bed. “i only have one question” he said and truthfully you started getting a bit anxious. “since when did you become so bold?” he smirked at you. “ugh! leave me alone” you attempted to throw a pillow at him but miserably failed when he pushed you on the bed and kissed you again.
that night was the first time in a while when you felt content. you had never felt happier and in each others embrace you both felt safe. you knew everything will be alright now. thank you, history assignment :)
a/n: thank you for reading my first fic!! ♡
#enhypen#enhypen niki#ni ki#nishimura riki#enha#enha x reader#ni ki x reader#enhypen riki#riki x reader#ni ki fluff#enhypen imagines#you belong with me#taylor swift
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A Night To... Forget? Ch. 2

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! Reader
Part 1 | Part 2!
(Notes: Jackson Wang is a side character LMAO [ i needed a non-pro hero buddy for reader.]
Slow burn for sure but there's some tension brewing ~~ (smut soon to follow)
Tags: jealous aizawa, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol, hopeless pining by both reader and aizawa, drunken flirting, slowww burn, some established history between aizawa and reader, reader is in their early/mid 20s, aizawa POV at end(mainly SFW, but NSFW next chap most likely)
Word Count: 5.9k
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: jackson wang is a character LMAO
It’s impossible to focus. You’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your law textbook for 15 minutes now, trying your best to ignore the steady pounding in your skull. When you initially arrived, 20 minutes late, the two friends waiting at the reserved table gave you an immediate look of pity; hair unwashed, sunglasses on, and a matching sweatsuit from the university merchandise clearance rack. Your usual hangover uniform.
You peel your eyes off the textbook and reach for your water bottle, silently wondering how long you had to wait in between pain killer dosages. For your own sanity, your cellphone is on silent and tucked in the very bottom of your backpack, which is also placed under your chair.
God this is impossible.
Keigo was absolutely NO help this morning. After the initial panic of not being able to recall anything beyond being let in by the bouncer and then seeing the message from Aizawa, the both of you stopped breathing. At first, you both just stared at the message, ignoring the sluggishness of the acute alcohol poisoning, before Keigo snatched your phone and took off to the other side of the couch.
“Give it back asshole!”
“No way!” Keigo moves around the couch to mirror your efforts, one hand pointing at you with the other holding the phone “You would send something dumb back, I would actually help you get in his pants.”
You shuffle from one side to the other, making a few dives to reach your phone, but falling short.
“What if I just want to get to know him first? Huh?”
Keigo begins typing something and your efforts get more desperate, “You already kinda know him and he sucks, trust me - just get it out of your system and get over him.” “You don’t know that! You barely work any cases with him!”
Keigo ignores you and continues drafting something, with one last effort you climb over the arm of the couch and jump onto his arm. The phone is squished between you both as the two of you begin wrestling over the furniture.
“I’m helping-”
“No, you’re just gonna fuck it up!”
PING!
The two of you stop short, your first holding his hair and his arm in a half-headlock around your neck; your phone glows on the floor with the screen ‘message sent’. Silently, both you and Keigo step off the couch and crouch down.
To: Aizawa Shouta
FeliN-g a litL3e uder the weather Hoe about u?
Mybe wwe shold me5t up n recoverr?
Your leg is bouncing up and down in anxious energy and you resign to leaning back in your chair and looking around the library. That fucking idiot.
It’s the only thing you can think about, that stupid message and the fact you will NEVER be able to forget it until you die. After Keigo accidentally sent it, you both spent the next 20 minutes arguing, trying to unsend it, and then arguing some more; eventually you shut it off, kicked him out, and ran to the library in an attempt to salvage your scheduled study time.
Can’t the world just swallow me whole? Seeing Keigo beat up after a mission would be nice too.
You sigh and turn back to your book, fiddling with the edges of the paper and resting the fat of your cheek in your hand. The words are boring and unimportant, and in this moment you’re beyond grateful for your quirk. Concentrating a little bit, you scan the page line by line, committing each phrase to memory for use later.
The library is mainly empty on this level, the loft overlooking the main floor and entrance doors. Some students come in and out; most are carrying coffees and are dressed for an early morning cram session on a Saturday, forgoing social events for upcoming exams.
You have your own finals coming up alongside several new cases your externship mentor has set aside for you. At least a dozen new case files had been forwarded to you overnight, a few requiring you to stop by UA and speak with the heroes who were involved with the villain’s arrest.
“You look more hungover than usual. You’ve barely finished the first chapter...”
You look over to your friend on the right side, Dru, she doesn’t even look up from her book while she speaks, too focused on getting the material down.
A slight rumble emits from your stomach and you fidget in your seat, “Yea I’m just hungry and… can’t think straight.”
She hums and continues reading, the conversation could end there but the anxiety of the situation makes you wanna yap.
“I may have also sent a drunk…? No, just a very poorly worded text to a guy..”
The words get quieter and you sink into your seat as you talk, though the sentence is enough to make both of them look up from their books and stare at you.
“Huh?” They say in unison.
“Who?”
“What did you say?”
“This morning or did you send it last night?”
“Is he cute?”
You lean forward onto the table and rub your eyes under your sunglasses and sigh, “My coworker. It was a very poorly misspelled text asking to meet up. Sent it this morning. And uhh..” your cheeks burn from under your hands, “yea..”
The two look at each other and then turn to you, forgetting the material in front of them and demanding to know more. Dru leans in, “Ok come on, you have to show us.”
Jackson, the friend on the left, leans in and pushes his textbook back, “Where did you even get drunk? I didn’t throw a party yesterday.”
You keep your head in your hands and refuse to look up for a moment, now staring at the mess of words underneath your elbows, “It was after yesterday’s sentencing, Keigo dragged me out.”
They both wince and Jackson shakes his head, “Now your outfit makes even more sense.
I don't know anyone who can survive his drinking games without getting shitfaced.”
You sigh and look off into space, resting your chin in your hands and silently wondering if this could all just be a sick dream and you’ll wake up back in bed. Dru, who’s been silent for a moment, traces her jaw with her finger absentmindedly in thought.
“Well you said no one leaves his game without getting fucked up?”
Jackson whines and rolls his eyes, “Yea, it’s fun in the moment but a total headache the day after,” he rests his hand on your shoulder, “stay strong.”
She stops mid trace and looks at you, “Well did this guy you texted play too? That would mean there’s a chance he also doesn’t remember last night.”
Your eyes widen and both you and Jackson look at her in awe, the tension on your shoulders feeling just a little lighter.
“You’re right!”
“You’re a genius!”
She smiles and shrugs, “Well I suppose it doesn’t really help the issue of the text you sent though.”
The smile from your lip fades and you shrug forward again, your hands now picking at the loose frays of the crew neck sleeves. Jackson turns between both of you and offers an apologetic smile before pulling his textbook back closer to him.
Dru follows suit and flattens the page of her book before adjusting the ponytail of her hair to remain out of her face, “Just explain the misunderstanding in person and don’t bother opening your phone. You’re both adults, it shouldn’t be too weird.”
You sigh as the task-oriented lawyer-prepping version of your friends creeps back over them and studying for the upcoming final takes priority from your shitty love life. The group is silent now and you dejectedly flip the page of the book and scan the first few lines, silently counting down the next 246 pages you have to complete.
*******
The air outside is cold and the sun is still annoyingly bright when you all break from the exam review session. Nearing 1pm the campus is livelier, but still quieter on the weekend than it usually is in between classes. Your backpack is heavy and the straps dig into your shoulders with uncomfortable force; 2 textbooks, a laptop, pencil case, notebooks, wallet, and filled metal water bottle create an awkward weight.
“Ok, let’s resume at 3:30? I gotta run back to my apartment and grab the next textbook.”
Dru nods at Jackson and stretches from side to side, “Yea, I think I might take a nap.”
You look between the two of them and before you can mumble a phrase a pair of boots approaching cuts you off promptly, “Geez there you are. I’ve been calling you all morning.”
Spinning around you immediately look eyes with Keigo and notice the fact he’s completely not beat up before raising an eyebrow at his hero uniform. He saunters up as if he was just as close with your friends as you were and nonchalantly pulls out his phone to review his unanswered calls, not bothering to look up.
“13 missed calls, seriously, I was beginning to wonder if I needed to ditch parole to make sure you were still alive.”
A scoff leaves your lips and you turn to your friends with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, guys, I’ll meet up with you later.”
You wave off to them and examine Keigo closer, still hiding behind his phone, but you can see the facade behind the screen and glasses. Dark circles dust a purple under his eyes, his lips are chapped and cracked from the wind, and there’s a twitch in his left eyebrow from a residual headache. He’s still just as hungover as he was this morning.
“Didn’t you leave for parole right after I kicked you out? How are you already on break?”
The two of you start an easy walk down the campus brick path and towards the main road leading to some cafes and restaurants. Leaves crunch under his boots and you play with the tension straps of your backpack, attempting to find a better distribution of weight.
“It’s lunchtime, and besides, you can do a whole lot when you’re ranked as highly as me.”
You shove him to the side and groan, not in the mood for his ego or voice this early, well maybe not early early. There’s a comfortable silence in the walk, one you’ve done a million times before on the days where your break between classes aligns with his lunch recess.
“So..” Keigo rubs his temple in light circles, squinting as the sun’s glare beams into his glasses at an off angle, “remember anything yet?”
“Nope.”
There’s an exasperated sigh that leaves his lips and you both turn the corner out of the campus gates and start down the main road. A few cars pass, but the traffic is light as most people are probably already inside enjoying their lunch on a day off.
“I remember the message perfectly though, so it’s not like my quirk has just vanished.”
Keigo hums and continues with a dejected face towards your usual lunch spot, only stopping to open the door for you once you arrive.
Sliding into the booth seat across from him, you don’t even bother to open the menu; already knowing what you’ll be ordering. He sits uncomfortably across from you, more so than he usually would with a hangover.
“Ok spill, why are you acting so weird? I’m the one who has to deal with this stupid text message.”
Keigo rolls his eyes and pours water from the decanter on the table into each of your glasses,
“Apparently I called Tokoyami last night.”
You sip your water and raise an eyebrow, “The student you’re interning? What’s wrong with that?”
Keigo rubs his temples annoyedly, “I supposedly told him to go deal with some paperwork involving an arrest I made… but I think I sent him your files to retrieve by mistake.”
Your eyebrow twitches and the water in your hand is now forgotten as you glare at the man in front of you. Working in support for heroes, especially in prosecution, you know how annoying it is to chase heroes down and do the legal paperwork for their actions; making a high school student do the same is cruel.
“Ok I’ll yell at you later about making him do your busy work. But why did you even think about mentioning my cases to him?”
Keigo huffs dramatically at the raise of your voice and places his chin on the table of the restaurant, “Not so loud ok?” he looks off to the side, “It’s because you kept yapping about your cases and they got stuck in my head. When I reviewed my call log I noticed he had called me at some point last night and even sent a confirmation text that he had secured the files.”
Before you can strangle him from over the table and wish nothing but misery on him for years to come, a waitress approaches the table. She’s a bit flustered for a moment seeing Keigo, but he pays no mind to her and recites both of your usual orders to her without even looking up. You settle for a kick in the shin and sink your face into your hands. “Do you know what hero’s files you sent for him to grab?”
Keigo scratches the light scruff of his chin and thinks hard, his eyebrows forming a slight ‘V’ in focus.
“Nah. No idea.”
Any remaining oxygen in your lungs is pushed out with a huff and you rub your temples in annoyance.
“Great. I guess I’ll have to head by UA and pick them up from him.”
Keigo slides his phone on the table to the side touching the wall, making room for the plates of food being delivered by the waitress. He shoots her a wink when she blushes and walks off; you roll your eyes and take a bite, happy to finally eat.
You sit in a loud silence, eating becoming the priority and focusing on recovering from the hangover as fast as possible. Though thinking over the plan of stopping by UA makes your blood cold at the realization.
“Wait- doesn’t Aizawa teach Tokoyami? How the fuck am I supposed to grab the files without bumping into him?”
Keigo looks up at you, his mouth open for another bite despite food nearly falling out unchewed, “Uhhh,” there's a half smile painted on his lips.
You take another bite and kick him from under the table.
“You asshole. Can you at least come with me to get them?”
“Hmm no can do. I got parole followed by a few meetings. I’m totally booked.”
“Why are you smiling then?”
Keigo chuckles and drowns the food in his mouth with water before leaning back in his seat and smirking at you, “Well…I wanna see how this plays out.”
You raise an eyebrow at him and take a smaller bite, grunting a small ‘hmm?’ and waiting for him to continue.
“Oh come on. This is the chance to actually have some sort of conversation with him.”
“Is that what we are calling this now? I didn’t even respond to his texts, how am I supposed to show my face on the school campus?”
Keigo snaps his fingers and points to your backpack, “Ok then it’s time! We have to answer.”
“One: we? Two: No way.”
He rolls his eyes and you watch him incredulously while continuing, “You’ve done enough damage already.”
Sturdy arms cross at his chest, “Come on, you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, we’re both basically back to sobriety at this point.”
Well he isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t take away any of the anxiety that’s been built on your shoulders. You wait an extra moment and slowly unzip the small pocket on your backpack and dig your hand to the bottom, feeling for the cool screen of the phone.
Keigo slides both of your plates to the slide, making room when you place the phone face up in the center of the table. A small look of acknowledgement is shared between you both; taping the screen and unlocking it, you take a breath and open the ‘message’ application.
There’s a dot next to the contact ‘Aizawa Shouta’ and a preview of the message can barely be seen. It hurts to watch and your face contorts into a wince without even opening it. Keigo’s silent but gives a small nod before tapping his finger on the notification and opening the message. Well messages.
From: Aizawa Shouta
Are you alright? Hopefully not too sick...
Regardless, I’m glad you got home safely.
From Aizawa Shouta
I’d like to meet up and talk if that's ok.
He double texted. He DOUBLE TEXTED. It’s almost sad how exciting it feels to receive a message from him twice, like he actually cared. God you really needed to get out more.
“Ok that’s good! Send something casual back, head to UA, grab the files, and fuck!”
You roll your eyes at Keigo but can’t help the slight increase in your heart rate. It was exciting that he wanted to see you but there was no guarantee it wasn’t to reprimand you for something that might have happened last night.
“What if-”
“No. No what if. If he was pissed or annoyed, he wouldn’t make an effort to reach out,” Keigo leans back into the booth again, “Trust me.”
You’ve given Keigo too much trust considering the success rate of his actions, but you don’t care enough to remind him at this moment. Instead, you spin the phone to face you and quickly draft a message in reply; after your companion gives a nod of approval you hit send.
To: Aizawa Shouta
Sounds good!
I’ll be in the area today if you’re free
Though the reply is sent, you can’t help the nerves that begin to eat at you. Keigo slides the plates back over in front of you both and continues his meal, “It’ll be fine ok?” You take a breath and pick up from where you left off on your lunch.
********
The security to UA is smooth and easy to pass through, the guards recognizing you by now and handing you a ‘visitor’ lanyard to hang around your neck. The main classroom building is dead ahead, though Keigo knows Tokoyami’s schedule enough to remember that weekend training for students doesn’t resume until 3pm.
Massive hero training grounds and buildings border the brick walkway you trend down in the direction of the ‘Hero’s Alliance’ student dorms. It’s a bittersweet feeling, seeing the next generation of heroes taking water breaks while dressed in their new outfits. Part of you always wondered what it would’ve been like to follow alongside your friends, fighting villains on the frontline with them instead of sitting in an office doing paperwork and wondering if they were going to survive the next fight.
The melancholy passes and you resume your focus on the path ahead, looking for signs indicating the building for ‘class 1-A’. A cool breeze blows through the thin fabric of your university sweatshirt, and you instinctively hug your arms into your body. Leaves scatter the walkway a colorful orange and red, though you can make out a small blip of golden-yellow from the head of Toshinori just up ahead.
Perfect! He was sober all night, I’ll just ask him to tell me what happened.
“Toshinori!”
You break into a light job to catch up and cringe at the smack of your backpack into your tailbone with every step.
He turns around instantly and smiles, “Oh Y/N! Nice to see you here.”
You meet him and match his walking pace, acting as inconspicuous as possible.
“What are you doing here?”
“Ah, I’m taking Midoriya out for his ultimate-move training. He’s progressing faster than I expected!” He laughs awkwardly at his excited outburst and scratches the back of his head, “And what about you?”
“Oh, just grabbing some files from Tokoyami, Keigo had mixed up some of the paperwork he requested him to collect.”
Toshinori hums and continues walking alongside you, the dorm buildings now coming into view.
“So… I actually had another question to ask.” He hums and gives you a patient look.
“I’m having some trouble remembering everything that happened last night... Of course, I’d like to apologize to you if I did anything strange. I’m also here to see Aizawa to do the same.”
Toshinori laughs and waves his hand, “Oh there’s no need to apologize to me Y/N! I left shortly after the game ended, and I don’t recall you acting strange with me in any way.”
A light sigh escapes your lungs in relief, but Toshinori shifts awkwardly to the side now avoiding eye contact.
“That’s nice to hear. But… do you know if anything happened between Aizawa and I? I feel there’s a bit of awkward tension.”
Coughs escape his mouth and his face is lit up in a bright red, he instinctively turns his head to the side in a poor attempt to hide his fluster.
“Well.. that would be inappropriate to recount.. certain events on school grounds”
“All might!”
You wish you could be smite down by lightning in that moment and be reduced to a useless pile of ash and textbook embers. Midoriya makes no connection in your face of horror when he runs down the steps of the dormitory to greet his mentor. With legs made of lead you watch Toshinori give a warm smile to the young man and awkwardly swallow when his attention glances past you again.
Inappropriate? INAPPROPRIATE??
Midoriya eventually turns to you and either ignores or doesn’t recognize the self-loathing currently taking place within your mind and offers an excited ‘hello’. You force out a greeting through grit teeth and wave off to the two as they head towards a training facility.
You stand outside nearly a whole minute before trudging up the short staircase and opening the large doors to the lobby. A variety of students sit around the common room in their hero uniforms, relaxing until their scheduled training and enjoying each other's company.
“Need help?”
You stand awkwardly in the entrance and notice who you vaguely remember as being Todoroki now standing nearby.
“Oh yea. Keigo- or uh Hawks, sent me here to grab some files from Tokoyami.”
Todoroki nods and you continue casually, “Is your teacher here…?”
The young man examines the room and gives a light shrug, now motioning you to follow him to the elevator, “If he’s not down here he might be sleeping in all honesty. Training doesn’t resume for a little while.”
You nod to a silent beat and peer around once more before stepping into the elevator with
Todoroki. “You work in law, right? I think you’ve done a case for my father before.”
“Oh yes, I have a few times with my externship mentor.”
He nods silently and the conversation is effectively ended. You make a mental note and rock on your feet lightly; the silence isn’t forced and it’s clear that his personality is simply more reserved.
With a ‘ding’ of the elevator opening, Todoroki leads you to Tokoyami’s door and returns promptly towards the lift in an effort to resume his break in the common room. You peer down both ends of the empty hallway and knock twice against the wood before the door is opened as thinly as possible.
“Yes?”
“I’m here-,” you pause and notice the dark aura of the room and soft purple lights emitting barely a glow, “-here to pick up the files Kei- Hawks had mentioned.”
Tokoyami glances at you from the crack in the door, “Alright, I’ll hand them to you out there.”
The door closes in your face and you blink a few times in confusion before eventually backing up into the center of the hallway. The carpet is plush under your feet as you distribute your weight from hip to hip waiting for the door to open once again.
“Here,” Tokoyami slides out from his room, an arrangement of manilla folders in tow, and hands them over to you. His hero uniform is on but disheveled, clear you had caught him off-guard.
“Sorry about the mix-up.”
“It’s no worry, I’m sure you know more than me just how easy it is to get lost amongst those papers.”
A light exhale leaves your lips and you offer the young man a smile, “I’ll let Hawks know to lighten up on this kinda work ok? A kid like you in this school shouldn’t be doing my job,”
Tokoyami blinks and tilts his head to the side despite being halfway back into this room again, “It's important though. Just because I’m not training for the same profession as you doesn’t make the work you do any less important than the one a pro-hero does.”
He shuts the door and leaves you in the hallway with four case files and a small mixture of existential relief and anxiety. Cutting your losses, you head back for the elevator and take it down to the lobby, silently thanking your luck for the lack of Aizawa’s presence, especially after Toshinori effectively put you into cardiac arrest with his warning.
Groups of students are still idly chatting away while others finish up their snacks and begin to stretch lightly in preparation for training. Todoroki looks up from his conversation with an extremely passionate boy with glasses and gives a slight wave goodbye.
“Y/N.”
Ok nevermind, there’s no such thing as luck and I’m cursed to live an unfortunate life.
There’s no need to turn around, the voice obviously belonging to Aizawa as his footsteps approach from behind you. Picking at the strings of your sweatshirt you spin and drink in his hero uniform, silently admiring the tousle of his long hair.
“Oh hey.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see you on campus at this hour, but..” he shifts for half a second, “if it’s alright I’d like to speak with you before you go?”
“Sure,” you reply as casually as possible and appreciate the background noise of the students drowning out your conversation.
Aizawa nods and motions you to follow him outside and down the entrance stairs to the small courtyard. Nervous sweat builds on your palms and you awkwardly wipe it on your sweatpants, now hyper aware of your hangover outfit and disheveled appearance.
There’s an awkward silence between the both of you.
I just need to apologize. Whatever I did must’ve been fucked if Toshinori reacted like that. I just need to grow up and face the fact any chance I had is gone and move on with my disappointing life.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Wait-”
“What-?”
Aizawa and you stumble on your words after speaking simultaneously, his eyes widening and cheeks becoming slightly pink. Your own face heats up and every time one of you tries to speak, the other is attempting to as well.
He raises a hand, “Ok, you start.”
“Well.. I came to apologize,” you awkwardly look off and fiddle with the backpack straps on your shoulders, manilla folder tucked under an arm, “For the stupid message I sent this morning, well Keigo kinda sent.”
Aizawa sucks in a short breath at his name but remains silent as you continue, his shoulders stiff.
“And for whatever I did last night... In all honesty I don’t actually remember any of it..”
A long silence follows and you peel your eyes off the sight of students walking around the school grounds and face him. There’s an expression you can’t quite read but his shoulders are more relaxed, and the tenseness of his muscles seem released; nearly relief.
Aizawa notices your finished statement and coughs slightly, looking around the courtyard with his ears dusted in pink, “Oh I see.”
“Well... what were you sorry for…?”
He shifts lightly, as if the script he had mentally prepared himself for has gone out the window and he’s left on stage improving his lines, “Just the same thing of course. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable last night… or when I messaged you this morning.”
The behavior is awkward and unfamiliar, it’s obvious there’s more than what he’s letting on. You shake your head ‘no’ and before you can push further, he notices the folders in your possession and changes the topic.
“I heard from your externship mentor you might be dropping by for a few cases, if there’s one in there with Vlad King I’ll be involved in the case as well.”
You blink and look down at the folders, “Yea I believe that one is going through our office-”
“-Great,” he moves towards the dorm entrance abruptly, eager to get out the conversation, “I’ll be seeing you on Tuesday then for the debrief.”
Your eyes go wide at the sudden change and there’s a small tug in your heart in disappointment from lack of closure. Watching him ascend the stairs, he pauses halfway up and turns to you, “I have your blazer still, let’s meet Monday so I can return it? There’s a good coffee shop nearby.” “Sure..”
He disappears into the building without any further explanation and you’re left standing in the courtyard unsure of what just happened. Robotically, you slide out your cell phone and answer a few ‘where are you’ texts from your friends who have resumed their study session at the library. Walking towards the exit gates, you open Keigo’s contact and begin drafting a novel of what just happened, unsure of exactly how to interpret the entire conversation.
“Ah, leaving already?”
You whip your head up and look at Toshinori waving at you and casually approaching; Midoriya stands in an open field practicing his jump kicks, unaware of the conversation.
“Yea,” you lift a few folders, “Got what I needed.”
“And did you resolve the uh... issue?”
Well no, not really. I still don’t know what even happened.
“Kinda, we cleared the air and acknowledged we’d be working on closing a case together. I’d say that’s a resolution for now.”
Toshinori nods and laughs, “I'm glad! I didn’t think it would be too awkward considering you both couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
Huh?... HUH?
“Huh..?” your voice is weak and Toshinori immediately raises his hands apologetically. “Oh I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to be rude. To be honest everyone was wondering when you both would work it out.”
There’s no language in which a single coherent thought could form into a sentence; your mind is completely blank.
“I don’t.. I don’t understand.”
Toshinori tilts his head to the side, now just as confused as you, “Isn’t that what you talked about? I left right before 12am, but you both were playing billiards and making dinner plans. Normally speaking about a teacher and prosecution support dating would be inappropriate to bring up in front of students,” he turns to Midoriya, “but I’m glad you worked it out!”
. . . .
What? I don’t-
He looks at you and smiles genuinely as if this was something that had been eating at him while you stand motionless and without flinching in the cold wind. Your throat is dry and you can feel your lips getting chapped from the air.
“All might! Did you see that one?”
Midoriya yells from the center of the field and Toshinori waves back at him before turning to you one last time, “If you want more specifics on the evening to reminisce on, you should ask Midnight. She was taking tons of videos at the time.”
********
AIZAWA POV
She doesn’t know? She doesn’t remember…?
Aizawa holds back any emotion on his face while he pours a mug of coffee in the dorm kitchen, relief and gratitude rushing through his veins. It seemed luck truly was on his side this past week, not only did he get the phone number the girl he was pining over thought was cute and made coffee plans with her, but she didn’t remember a thing about the night before when he made a complete ass of himself.
Guilt also gnawed at his gut as he sipped the warm liquid and watched his students chat amongst themselves in preparation for training to resume. He should come clean and tell you exactly what happened, but the idea of getting a fresh chance was almost too refreshing.
I’ll come clean over coffee. Yea. I’ll do it then.
He lets himself relish in the idea of being safe just a little while longer and pushes down the nervousness of rejection that still resided deep within him. Sure, when you’re both drunk in a bar you’ll admit to a lot of things, but that doesn't mean you actually felt them sober.
The hand you kept firm on his bicep while he tried to teach you how to play billiards, as if you even cared about the game, burned a mark into his skin. The way you leaned over the green of the table and hit any ball you felt like, regardless of stripe or solid, took all the willpower within him not to admire the swell of your ass in front of everyone. And every time you would stare from eye to eye to lips was nearly enough for him to lose all resolve and admit his stupid pathetic feelings right there in the bar. Instead, he resorted to casually asking to see your phone and adding in his contact ‘just in case’, the liquid courage making him smoother than any other time he’s talked to you.
This is ridiculous.
Aizawa sips his coffee and stares down into the liquid with a slight forlorn look, hating the way his warped reflection stared back at him. As if you really wanted him? The thought hurt enough to laugh so he settled to take another sip from his drink instead. You, an ace law student bound to be the country's next best prosecutor, who’s smart and charming and beautiful, and who was way out of the league of a sleep-deprived unshaven high school teacher.
He’d spent countless cases avoiding you, thinking if he kept enough distance the feeling would go away and not grow into the suffocating fixation it inevitably became. Maybe he would use the coffee date to just end the whole game altogether and get some closure. End it before he looked like an idiot and tried to make room for you in his already hectic schedule. He would go back to the plaguing dreams that left him feeling even shittier for the thoughts of you that would swarm his brain and always end with his hand shoved down his boxers.
It wouldn’t be fair.
It’s the same line he always told himself. It wouldn’t be fair to make you wait long nights for him, unsure of his condition after a fight. It wouldn’t be fair to try and make room for you when his students had become a priority. It wouldn't be fair to chain you down to a nobody hero like him when your best friend was admired by so many more.
Aizawa sipped his coffee one more time and placed the mug on the counter, enjoying the few hours he had of your blissful ignorance before he eventually came clean. He silently thanked his luck one last time before clapping his hands and approaching the couch full of students, eager to resume training and shake the thoughts of you out of his head

ty so much for the support for this series! i still have some finals so my upload schedule is annoying af, but i promise i'll keep writing when i have time!
let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list for this~~ also if u have any requests in general
Tags: @idkidk32 @h0n3y-l3m0n05
#fanfic#bnha#mha#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa shouta x reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa shota#aizawa shota smut#aizawa shouta smut#oatmealwrites#oatmealwordsaizawa#aizawa shota x you
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this is specifically here because @sewicidalskinnygrl asked, but i wanted it up on my blog eventually. i love memoirs
mr. c. w.
i turned 11 hiding, silent, and hungry. i was in my dark closet alone, the only other person in my house my stepfather. he uses crystal meth, and i did not want to cross paths with him in any way while we were the only two home.
i spent the age 11 the same way i spent my birthday: hiding, silent, and hungry.
this was during 2020, so my school was strict about the way the students were grouped. the groups of about 20 students had every class together, and would never intermingle. i knew no one in my group. everybody else knew everybody else, so i was left alone. i made no effort to try and join this group.
i was dangerously depressed, mute, an×rexic, and having the worst insomnic spell of my entire life. i might have slept a total of 4 hours that september.
my history teacher's mother contracted covid-19. she left. and so we had a permanent subsitute teacher. mr. w.
my first thought was that he was cute. this was undeniable. he was baby faced, and, if he had not been pushing 6foot, he could have easily been confused with his preteen pupils.
he was not originally an exception from my mutism. unlike everyone else, though, he tried with me.
he spoke to me though i didnt respond through anything but half-hearted nods. i read a lot of poe, and he'd sit next to me and tell me all about his which was his favorite, why, oh he hadn't read that one yet. had i? did I like it?
eventually i began to speak. the first word i had said to him was "no". he had asked if i had ocd. i don't know what compelled me to say it aloud.
i was failing math, at that time. when we were comfortable with each other (i.e. i spoke to him in full sentences, a luxury not even my parents could afford), he told me,
"i used to he a math teacher, yknow. i could help you."
i asked him what he meant.
"stay after school with me. i usually stay until three, but you dont have to stay that long. just long enough for me to make sure you've got your homework done."
he was my only friend, and i was attracted to him (though, at that time, i was a little pervert. who wasn't attracted to?)
i said yes. i told my aunt i had joined a club and would be walking home from now on. it was about a 15 minute walk, in a small town. she accepted. i dont know if my parents ever knew I didn't ride the bus after school.
of course, it was nothing like a club. it was him and i. i found it was much easier to speak when it was only us. months of words must have left me in those hours alone with him. he'd do my homework with no explanation as to what he had done, close the laptop, and talk with me.
one of these times, we had watched le voyage dans la lune together on my school issued laptop. his arm was around me the entire time.
he initiated the physical contact, but i ran with it. he had started with my hair. he enjoyed touching it. that's what he started with, and i took a liking to playing with his lanyard as we spoke.
it was gradual, but there was a big jump when he kissed me.
before that i think he had kissed my hand a few times (he was fond of doing this), maybe my head once or twice, but this was a kiss on my mouth. his closed lips on my closed lips for a few seconds. a peck.
i asked him what that was for.
he said, "i dont know. s. didnt kiss me goodbye today." as if he had a quota of kisses that had to be met daily, and where the kisses were found was unimportant.
s. was his wife. who had, a month prior, given birth to their third child.
i met her a few times. once just after i had sex with her husband in his car. i was 13. it was a fair his church was hosting. he had been my ride.
s. had something like "I've heard so much about you!"
we hadn't started sexual contact of any kind until the last two months of school. we were both scared, i think, that the other would abandon himself over the summer.
i had initiated it. it took a lot of courage. though, as previously mentioned, i was a pervert at 12. it was often on my mind.
it wasn't the first blowjob i had given, but it was the first i could say i enjoyed. it was the first time i felt as if i were giving pleasure instead of having it taken from me.
i gave these to him in his own classroom, in thesr after school escapades.
he came to my birthday over the summer. when i turned 13. i showed him my room. he kissed me in my room (we could never kiss while standing, so we were sat on my bed). there were no 13 year old girls at my birthday party.
i visited his church often that summer. he knew i was something of an atheist then. i would sit between him and his wife. thematic.
the first time we had sex was during the later school year, after summer. he had asked for it. on a piece of torn loose-leaf paper. he wrote in childish cursive. it said,
"i love you. i want to have sex. tell me if that can happen."
he slipped this into my book at some point during class. i read it at home.
i wasn't staying after school with him. it was a new school year. clubs didn't start until around the middle of the year. that lie could no longer work.
i remember that night very vividly. i wasnt a virgin. but no one before him had asked.
(i daydreamed up all kind of magical ways to have sex with him, plans that would never work to get me inside of his house in a white nightgown i didnt own, being kissed delicately on his moonlit bed. the same bed his children had been made.)
we waited until clubs started again so i could lie to my aunt.
i would walk out with the bus riders, then slip away from the crowd. i would walk into a thin patch of woods that seperated the school grounds from the town, and pass through it. i would wait on the other side until i saw his car.
he would then pick me up, and drive out to nowhere, a patch of land that took only 20 minutes of off-road travel.
he had a nifty little car that allowed him to lay his backseats down. he threw a black blanket down because the texture of the back of the seats was horrendous.
the sex was alright. im a very romantic person, and there wasnt much romance in it. it hurt for much longer than I had anticipated, but he was very kind. it was obvious he felt guilty. and scared, like some cop with a baton would appear behind the car at any moment. it couldnt have lasted more than a quarter of an hour. he kissed me a few times but he had to fold himself very awkwardly to do so.
this happened 4 times that year.
anyways, he's a pastor now, at that church. i never see him, since i go to school in a different town. he had told me, through tears, the last time i was in his car, that he loved me, but that he hated himself for doing so. it was too dangerous. he was scared.
so basically morals 😒😒😒
june 24 edit: i wonder if s. ever smelled sex in their car
#ok how TF do i even tag this#aint nobody gonna read ts#at least not in full#read the sex parts yayaaa#angst#ahh#ok real tags now#🪽mind#writing#memoir#teacher x student#male teacher#teacher crush#teacher attachment#tc community#older man younger girl#vladimir nabokov#lol#i didnt mention we read lolita together in there but we did#ok i genuinely dk how to tag this
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Memories
Din djarin x f!reader
rated: M
Childhood friends to lovers meet later in life.....kinda
Bo-Katan said that there were different versions of the creed, Din has come to accept that. As he walks through the ever growing camp of Mandalorians gathering on the land over the decimated ruins of Mandalore.
There is a part of him that has lived in isolation for too long, that cringes at the sight of so many people gathered.
This many living mandalorians is a blessing and Din will not scorn that. Even when the clashes break out. Clans with long histories of conflict have to stand side by side now. If his faction, so secluded even before the war, could stand with those that bare their faces, then the other could see past their differences. Past the colors and marking of their armor. Past the names and faces. Past the petty scuffles.
They are all one now.
He chafes past the expectations of his own creed. He stands besides the Nightowl and unites their people under an elected leadership.
The exact rules of his creed have not left his mind for days. His faction has the most rules, the owls claim. They are the most conservative, the strictest. Their ceremonies are things left in echoes from the race before humans walked this twice dead, twice reborn planet.
The basics of the creed are something they all agree on. Loyalty and honor to your clan. Adherence to rank. To be honest and trustworthy. To always offer aid to another in Beskar. To honor, protect, and provide for your clan. To protect and adhere to the code of finding. To be responsible in all things. And to train others.
It was the finer rules that varied. The helmet and adherence to it was the most obvious. Most factions no longer followed this rule. Only two other than Din's own. Many had differing ranking systems, putting elders and trophy hunters above armorers, Or determined rank through challenge.
Some were loose in their definitions of a clan, they collected members more like a fire team. Not taking any oath or public acknowledgment of their clan. They bore no marks of their clans. They coupled and uncoupled freely without the bonds of marriage. They raised no young but their own.
Din could not imagine growing up without others training beside him. The fighting core had not been a clan. Their version of the creed had also been looser than the watch's, but he was surrounded by others, his own age to spar with, to fight and hate and respect as they were changed.
He thinks that was the last time he was surrounded by so many others. The solitude of his adulthood so different than standing among the ranks. That was the first time he loosed his grip on his identity. Being a cadet instead of Din Djarin. That was before his ceremony. Before he took the creed.
It had been difficult to give those parts up. First his home, then his name, his future, his body, eventually his life.
The other cadets had indulged here and there, drinking in all they could of life until they would be sent back to their clans. Made new under their helmets. The creeds they would take were different then too. The similarities were in the preservation of their fighting spirit.
Some cadets had bragged about the things they would get to keep. Their exposed faces, their families, their homes, lives, their short lived teen romances, freedoms Din knew he wouldn't know.
There was a group of them, the more conservative children. Seven in his grade. They gathered only to avoid the others. To call each other by their names while they still had them. To touch their faces and breath fresh air while they could.
Din doesn't remember any of it. Names or faces, such unimportant details.
He does remember a long black braid and green skin. Mirialans were rare all through the galaxy. They rarely left their home planet and certainly never colonized other planets. To see one with their head uncovered was even more of a shock.
He never knew what color their hair was until he saw her long braid swaying against the movement of her body.
Even among the outsiders like himself she was isolated. Her founder was from an aggressive and strict clan. According to the gossip, he'd found her in a slaver's cage. Normally a Mirialan would be returned to their people, after all the closed borders planet would always welcome a member of their own species back. But her founded was also Mirialan and had wanted an heir. Most clans would consider this a breach of the finder's code, to keep a child that could be returned. Her clan was different.
More than her skin convinced the others that she did not belong.
Din had too much of his own business to mind to reach out to the girl. He was never much of a savior. But he could offer her a tension-less silence whenever they were in proximity.
For as little as he offered her, he can't imagine why she noticed him at all.
She spent most of her time like he did, quiet, alone. training or eating she focused on the task and moved along when it was finished. The model of the perfect student. Not breaking a single rule with the others.
No one even knew her name.
They couldn't tell what she was giving up, maybe nothing. Maybe she already had everything taken from her and there was nothing left to mourn.
Din knew though. He knew because of every other cadet in their grade she had chosen to share it with him.
Not in words.
The girl who had nothing to loose had everything to gain. anything at all.
Some cheeky cadets managed to snag kisses and other scandalous moments together. Some bragged about the ones they would return to when they finished their training. Sometimes arranged pairs and sometimes not. Some bragged of their clans lax rules around such matters.
Din did not. The watch had strict rules of pairing. Outside of the Riduurok. When he was officially a Mandalorian, after he took the creed, they would decide when and if he was eligible to be paired.
And anything before would be risky beyond logic for little reward. The instructors were vigilant in their watch of the cadets, having so many of them housed in such proximity.
running into the Mirialan girl had been nothing more than coincidence. He'd gotten in an altercation with another cadet, cut his face open on the other boys fist. He'd been patched up and sent to the laundry to wash the blood out of his shirt.
She was already there, sheets bunched in her arms, smelling of the blood removing cleaner even from where he stood uncertain in the doorway.
They did not speak. She stepped to the side, facing the table to reapply the solution to the fabric and scrub at the blood. He hesitated before he pulled his shirt over his head and stepped to the table, leaving a respectable distance between them. Silently she passed him the solution and moved to the basin to scrub the sheets with cold water.
Her sheets went in the washer and she held the door open for him to throw his shirt in as well.
He expected her to close the door, start the wash. Instead her hands moved with only a moment of hesitance to her waist and then her pants were off as well, slightly bloody, they went into the wash.
Din was frozen, all the swirling pubescent hormones Waring with the standard he'd held himself to before now.
She turned back to the table and hauled herself to the damp surface, her knees parting and affording him a view of her glistening red slit. He is too young and too far into puberty to resist such an invitation.
outside of sparring she rarely made the effort to look any of them in the eye, but in that moment she looked right through him. Her dark eyes more hypnotizing than any temptation he's ever faced.
He is not a mandalorian yet, and he is breaking no creed yet. He thinks as he swells hard in his pants, the air suddenly too cool on his shirtless chest.
---
It had been a youthful rebellion. He wasn't proud of it. And in his lowest spiritual moments, he was even ashamed.
But it wasn't a memory he could fully cast from his mind. His first encounter with sex was a scene more salivating than many that came later. It wasn't his only rebellious period. A few years after he'd been appointed beroya for the covert he'd become lonely and bitter. He'd allowed himself to become associated with honorless criminals. He fell to a handful of temptations in that time.
But he hadn't enjoyed it. Most acts of rebellion were not dissimilar to intoxicants. Sex, violence, and reckless stunts. There was a certain thrill to it. A temptation to try, but often in the throws of it all Din felt was dissatisfaction.
It was all an outlet for unpleasant emotions, but when they were all drained away there was nothing else to fill the space. He only felt empty.
Moving forward he'd dedicated himself to truly being a pious man. He performed his labor for the covert. Dedicated his efforts to the care and raising of the next generation.
All he had to sustain himself in the quiet moments were his memories. Though sometimes he would use memories of Xi'an and the other woman to get where he needed to go, they were not exactly pleasant memories.
As juvenile as it was, her prefers the older memory. Worn with use and faded around the edges. It holds more than the quick rutting did. It holds sensations. Strong hands on his arms. A smell like strong tea and leather. The softness of skin beneath his bare palms.
He's thought of it so many times, constructed her piece by piece. Green skin flushed dark. A long black braid draped over one shoulder. A heel pulling at his shin. Hands holding his pants by the waistband. A glistening red slit breaking open on his cock.
It's all just fragments. But they're familiar and so deeply ingrained in him now. Even the sway of a dark braid can get him hard. Too many days spent amongst the night owls with their helmets off and he has to close himself into his ship. Fuck his fist until he can behave like a man again.
-
She's made of fragments he's sure of it. The woman in the purple armor. She's the founder of one his students. She isn't of the watch, but she keeps her helmet on. She observes his training, sometimes participates. When her long braid isn't tucked under the strap over her shoulder for combat, it's loose and long behind her back.
Black as night and swaying with her movements. Every inch of her skin is covered and he does not recognize her clan symbol. She is not recognizable. She's just blurry around the edges, unknowable in the same way the girl from his memories is. She adheres to the code. Well enough that he knows nothing about her. As well he shouldn't.
But he can't help himself when she creeps into his memories. The worn out picture of the girl so faded and conceptual in his mind filling out into her shape. It's shameful how he moans at the thought. A tangible women a better fantasy.
He will behave like a man he promises himself. Refusing to let his sight wonder in her direction as she instruct the younger group on blaster safety. He will not leer like some drunkard in the streets. He minds his own group. Keeps his mind on the task.
She does not socialize with him anyway. Preferring to retire to her own room like him. She only speaks to him when necessary. Approaching him the first day to make introductions. "You're Din right?"
He hadn't asked for her name then, but she'd offered it anyways.
He refuses to think about it. Won't let the fantasy become solid all the way through. Won't let himself think the name as he cums all over his lap.
It's just bits and pieces. The way that the girl's braid over her shoulder had become wrapped around his hand like Xi'an's head tail had been. He imagines a boot digging into his shin. Instead of a bare heel.
But he won't let it become the woman. Not fully. Not clearly.
-
The kid would not settle down tonight. It was late now and he still had things to do. His clothes were filthy from the training grounds and there were dishes piling up. He needed to tidy up and have his diner. There were others drinking and socializing in the hall. Some private rooms filled with friends and clan members still loud at this time of night.
Din passed by them discreetly, hoping not to be caught by a friendly drunk. He dropped a bag of garbage down the shoot to the incinerator. Freeing up a hand to palm the sensory for the laundry room door. It slid open revealing an empty room. He shuffled his things into one of the machines checking the pockets as he went. Not wanting anything to damage the machine. He was closing the thing and thumbing the settings when the door slid open behind him.
Boots passed by him, stopping at another machine and stuffing a load in. There was enough blood rushing in his ears that they felt warm.
This wasn't one of his memories. He needed to get a hold of himself. Feeling caught, even though he was only standing there, he continued to start the machine. standing straight when he was finished.
He turned back to the door, not looking to see who else had entered when he noticed it. The red light on the side of the scanner panel. The door had been locked. Din stopped abruptly.
His hand reaching for a blaster that wasn't there. But there was a knife in his boot if it came to it. He did turn now, to assess the danger.
It was the woman in purple. But the edges of the heated fantasy were not blurry and comforting now. They were sharp. She'd locked the door. Locked both of them in here together. It was a petty move really. He could just as easily hit the switch and unlock it. It wouldn't take a second. But he was cautious now.
She finished starting her machine and turned to him now, the table still between them. She rested her hands on the table, tilting her visor at him. "You are Din Djarin aren't you?"
He nodded once.
"Do you remember me?"
He said nothing. Not sure what there was to say in a situation like this. He had no idea what her intentions were. His mind running through so many sinister and sexy possibilities.
She didn't continue. Waiting and watching him. Looking for any tells.
After a moment she stood straighter and backed up until she reached the bit of counter meant for folding clothes, then she braced both her hands on the edge and climbed up on it. Her knees spread open in front of him.
"Do you remember?" she asks again. Breathlessness apparent through the vocoder.
He is a man. He will act like one. But this is better than his memories. This is a real woman. And he is a real man.
He approaches.
His hands pulled to the plates over her thighs. He doesn't even look at them, doesn't know what they look like. The very identity of a Mandalorian is crafted into the angles of their armor. Does she wear knee guards for heavy artilery? Does she have trauma plating? Are there colors or designs there that speak about her life?
He can't tear his gaze away from the tilt of her helmet. The way the visor narrows in the corners like a coy look. The way the braid hangs loose over her shoulder.
Her knees slide around his hips like they were made to fit there. So different than any memory of knobby knees. Everything is being over written now. Cloudy half sensations falling from his mind at this new stimuli.
The heat of her seeps through the fabric of her pants, even under the armor. Her hands slide up his chest plate. Spreading leather covered fingers over his shoulders.
"Do you remember me?" she asks again. Her voice crackling in a strained way.
His hand rises from her thigh and gently curls over the long braid running his thumb down the center of it reverently.
"The laundry room, when we were in training?" he asks, unsure despite everything.
He feels her helmet nod once while his gaze falls to his hand wrapped around her hair.
Does he remember? it seems like such a stupid question. He remembers it every time he wraps his hand around his cock. But maybe...maybe he doesn't. Maybe he only remembers a version he made up, added to over the years as all the real details were lost to time. He doesn't remember her being so warm.
He doesn't remember thighs around his waist like this. Doesn't remember the arch of her throat the way it stretches out before him now.
Her hand slides down his abdomen, muted by the layers he was wearing. But when the heel of her palm presses hard against the line of his cock he can't help the shudder that rattles him.
His hand tugging her braid absently.
"Didn't think you'd remember me." He confesses.
"Never, stopped thinking about you." She hisses.
Din shudders a laugh grabbing her wrist and pulling it away from his bulge before she tries to rub him to completion through his pants. "Couldn't have been that good for you."
She tilts her helmet at him. "The rutting? no. You were good though."
Din is too distracted by the glint of her visor, the bareness of her words, the feeling of her wrist in his hand. That's why her second hand surprises him when it tugs him closer, pressing him tight to the space between her legs.
It takes him a moment to find his voice, "Me?"
She nods. "So quiet and well behaved. Used to slam me into the dirt and offer me a hand up. Eat our lunch together in perfect silence. Never asked stupid questions. Never tried to kiss me behind the climbing wall."
His next laugh is confused. "That does it for you?'
"Respect? Honor, manners, skill? Principles, dedication? Din you treated me like a Mandalorian before I was one. Then I went and gave you my virginity." She shrugs. "It's hard to forget that."
"Why? I never understood that."
She tilts her helmet forward into his shoulder. Not a keldabe but close enough. "Because you didn't ask. Never asked for anything. Never acted like you deserved anything."
"I-I didn't"
Her head raises and Din lets go of her wrist as she leans back on her hands. "Do you now?"
"Do I-?"
"Deserve it? Do you deserve it?"
"No one deserves it."
she hums leaning towards him again, her voice pitched lower this time. "Then, do you want it?"
Din has to swallow around the clog of words that rush up his throat. He manages to squeak out an undignified "yes" as her boot knocks into his calf.
He can feel her grin. Feel it the same way he can feel his own grin behind his helmet. The way he can feel Boba's or even Paz's sarcastic grins.
He feels it like the grind of her heel into his leg as she tilts her helmet back to look him right in the visor. "I'll bet you've learned a thing or two since then. Why don't you show me?"
Din can feel the determination in his hands. In the way that they curl against the metal washing machine. He wants to get his hands on her- in her as quickly as possible.
But there's one more thing in the way. A mandalorian's armor is made to be hard to remove by anyone but themselves. The magnetic mounts were placed in such a way that it was difficult to remove. And their under clothings were similarly unique. A mess of layers and straps. Flack vests and belts and clasps that made it difficult to get underneath. It was a protective measure. And a matter of respect. Only a spouse every knew how to really undress another.
"Will you- will you let me, Mesh'la?"
Her hands find their way to his waist again urging him back far enough that she can slip down from the machine. Her hands are practiced in their movements, only a few tugs until the bottom half of her clothing falls slack. The fabric sagging down. Her Beskar stays in place though and it isnt until he slips his hands over her hips that he realises why.
She's using a magnetic mounting system reinforced by harnesses. The straps of the harness wrap around her waist, resting the weight of the armor against her hips. He runs his thumbs along the straps. Taking a shuddering breath as he wedges a finger beneath, feeling the weight of it.
"Do I need to remove my armor for you, vod?" she teases.
Din shakes his head. "No. don't." He swiped his thumbs along her hip bones again before his hands become suddenly firm. Her boots scuff the floor as he turns her around, facing her towards the machine now.
She may have been about to say something. Or maybe just make another one of those commenting humming noises she keeps using on him. But she's silenced by the thwack of a glove plopping down on the machine beside her. His warm hand finding her hip before it traces its way down to cup her sex.
He takes a minute to press against her. To feel the flesh and learn it. The course hair, the plush give of tender flesh. The silky texture of her innermost fold as his index nudges against it.
He doesn't move. Just feels. Lets his hand warm her. Waits for the heat between their bodies to build up until she feels hot against his palm.
"You just gonna hold it?" Her voice isn't as unaffected as she tries to make it.
DIn lets his helmet rest on her shoulder. "Yes." His hand presses firmer, but not by much. His fingers shifting just enough to feel a hint of moisture cooling in the space between them.
She shifts at the heels. Her hips tilting back at him. "Din." she says firmly.
And he can feel the way her lips slide over his palm, damp but not wet yet. He grunts in frustration but spreads his fingers out on either side of her lips, dragging them gently up and pressing against the junction at the top.
It's a gentle pressure and a subtle gyrating motion. Less focused on the nerves and more on moving all the flesh with it.
"Well you're close. I'll give you than. Why don't I just-"
Din presses his body closer to her hooking his helmet over her shoulder. "Will you just be patient?" He growls. He has her more bent over now, his chest against her back, her body resting on her elbows.
He slides his fingers down again feeling for the spreading wetness that clings to the hair. Dragging is back up with a gentle pressure over and over until he can get her slick all the way up to her clit.
The flesh swole hot and slick under his. Softer than anything against his fingertips. He presses down in a gentle stroke, again and again until her nerves swell to and stand stiff under his attention. Then he circles and slides his fingers down again to keep them slick while he plays with her.
There's a tension in her shoulders as she lets her neck hang. The weight of the helmet a strain from this position.
The wetness is spreading all around where his fingers touch and further still, dripping through the cleft of her cheeks. "So impatient." he admonishes. "Can't wait for me to get my feel."
She huffs a breath, hips shifting against his hands. He can feel the wet trail she leaves all the way up to his wrist. Din tenses his hand grasping her firmly by the cunt. He waits for her to still before he slides a finger into her heat.
She makes no sound loud enough to be picked up by the modulator but this close he can feel it vibrating through her.
"Let me show you." he insists, sliding the finger free and sliding two in together. The angle grinds the heel of his hand against her clit as he pumps his fingers.
"Wish you'd show me something- something else." She's baiting him. He can tell by the way her voice wavers. But he doesn't want to resist her. He wants to fuck her with his hand until it's dripping down her thighs. Show her exactly how much better he's gotten at sex since his first time.
But she wants his cock and he isn't strong enough to deny her. He takes a moment to press it against her for a moment. Her thigh hot even through the fabric of his flight suit. The pressure is so good he's worried for a moment that he might blow this all too soon.
Instead his hand retreats from her cunt, traveling up her body to clutch at her breast plate, dragging her to stand close as he frees his cock.
He wants to slide it between her thighs. Rut there until he can paint his load all over those puffy lips. But he will prove himself. Even if the effort makes him bite down on his tongue.
He grasps it instead. Firmly. The pressure grounding him as he slides just the head through her slick once, twice. Just enough to coat it, then he bends at the knees, positioning the head at the entrance, feeling the swollen flesh give as he presses in. Feeling muscle spread. Hot and wet and so soft.
He can't remember what it was like before. The hot clutch of her. His fist has worn against the memory of that sensation until only his hand remained. But this, he wants to remember this for the rest of his life. The way he has to work past the clench of muscle as she lets him in.
Another noise passes under the lip of her helmet. High and wanting. "You're certainly bigger now."
He wants to laugh. Wants to come up with something sly to say. But Din isn't a man of words. He lets his body respond for him. His hand pressing flat against her stomach while he pulls her back by the breast plate. Making her body arch against him. Their bodies pressed together from top to bottom. Perfectly aligned as he pressed his hips harder into hers.
She's taken most of him. Her legs spread wide enough to make space for him even as he pulls her body to the edge of her balance. Letting him twist her body into position for him. Letting him spread her open on his cock like this. Her helmet leant back against him.
"Better?"
The sounds she makes is half choked off as he pulls her down on him harder. Shoving fully into her for just a moment. Still too much resistance in her muscles to make him believe that's very pleasant.
"hmm?"
"Am I better than last time?"
It takes her a moment to put her words back together. DIn doesn't Stop the subtle thrusts that bully her muscles open for him as he waits for her response.
"Make me cum, then I'll tell you."
He likes the challenge, more than he thought he would. He releases her from the angle, slow enough that she regains her balance on her own. He lets her sag for a moment before repositioning her. Pulling her hips back against him and pressing her down against the machine.
It's much easier to swing his hips into her now. The angle letting her loosen up enough to take him easily. The slick glide too easy, too perfect.
She groans, pressing back into his thrusts. The rhythm messy and desperate as they both work off each other. Meeting in uneven places. Gasps shuddering through her every time he's buried it deep.
"Touch-me."
He has to shift forward. spread his feet and lay across her back. Brace himself with one hand as he fumbles for her clit again. His fingers sliding too smooth through the slick that's gathered there. Just above where his cock is plunging in and out, her clit stands tall. The movement of their bodies alone rubbing her against his hand.
She's dripped down her thighs now. His thighs too. The slick gathering between his fingers and dripping down his knuckle.
That spot behind her helmet where her neck is long and almost exposed without the beskar. The place where she's vulnerable is stretched just ahead of his visor. Her braid snaking out from the fabric.
He wishes he wasn't wearing his now. Wishes he could burry his face into that space and smell her. He settles for nuzzling his helmet there instead. Hoping the hard press of his armor to her vulnerable neck will mean to her what it means to him.
She cries out. sudden and loud and her body shakes as she clenches hard around him. He nearly bites his tongue off trying not to blow his load. Waiting through several more thrusts as her body clutches at him. Sucking him deeper.
It's too much. Too good. Din is only a man.
He pulls out gripping his hot cock in his bare hand as he tugs it. His fist familiar. He cums hard, covered in her slick. Covered in her. Drippin with her as he shoots into the fabric gathered between her thighs.
Every hot twitch of his cock makes white spread behind his eyes but he pulls back anyways, watching as his cum soaks into the dark fabric. Marks up her clothes.
He's unsteady on his feet now. Nearly swaying back as he runs his thumb over the harness on her hips again. Watching the dark fabric drink up the fluid from his hand. The curve of her ass cheeks glistening with their fluids.
"Mesh'la." he murmurs deliriously as the endorphins cloud his brain.
She stretches. No doubt stiff in her lower back from the position, but the stretch just spreads her out in front of him. Her cunt fucked out and still open from his cock. White cum clinging to the hair around the hole.
Her joints pop as she straightens up. Her hands going to pull her clothes back into order. His cum now pressed up against her as she redresses.
His brain is still thick. And his cock is still out. He should do something about that. He winces against the sensitivity but stuffs it back into his pants.
She turns around, Still more disheveled than she should be. Something off about the way her clothes sit now.
She looks him over before shaking her head. "We better hope we don't run into anyone on the way out. We won't fool them."
Din glances down at himself noticing the dark spots where she dripped all over his thighs, something even shining over his beskar. His cock gives a weak twitch that makes him wince.
Her hand is on his shoulder and he looks back up at her, trying to think of anything but her pussy weeping all over him.
"We'll have to pick one room to keep the kids in, if we're going to do that again. can't always meet in the laundry room."
"If?" he says pathetically.
She laughs. "Come on, Beroya."
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Venus Zinnias
Title: Venus Zinnias
Rated: General Audience
Fandom/Pairing: Sonic the Hedgehog/Shadamy
Shadow fought to groan as he heard the two women drone on and on about unimportant things. They were supposed to be searching for the Venus Zinnia, a rare flower with great medicinal properties. G.U.N wanted to research it, and when mentioned at a random passing, the meddling fox-brat was interested too.
Which led to Amy Rose also joining them on this mission. Since it was low stakes, G.U.N did not care whether they enlisted outside help or not. Since there were no explosions or Eggbots to destroy, Omega opted to stay out of this one. Leaving the three of them to start searching through the fields and woods of Mobius, with the threat of a rain storm overhead.
Ever since they started walking through the fields, Rouge and Amy had not stopped chatting. It set his teeth on edge. He had been against having Amy join them, but Rouge waved him off and linked arms with the pink hedgehog. Now they talked about anything. Everything, it seemed. They had long since stopped trying to have him join in on their conversations.
“The Venus Zinnia sounds so romantic.” Amy sighed, lifting her hands to cover her blushing cheeks. “It must be a beautiful flower to be named after the Goddess of Love.”
“With its vibrant pink petals and warm orange insides? No, it sounds disgusting!” Rouge laughed, and looked around her immediate area. “I want at least a dozen of them for myself. Unfortunately, it is hard to grow in captivity. You can only find them in the wild, and even then, it’s hard to find.”
“We better find it quickly.” Shadow snapped, dreaming for this mission to be over. Forget the fact that he was sent to go flower picking. He was sent to go flower picking with the one being on this planet that made his heart race and his cheeks to blush any time she looked over at him.
“Yes sir, Mr. Grump-hog, sir!” Rouge gave a mock salute and turned back to Amy. “Did you know that if you give one of these flowers to the person you love, you stay together forever?”
“No! Do you think it works?” Amy smiled and leaned over to sniff at a rose bush.
“You got someone in mind?” Rouge teased, coming over to pick a rose from the bush and adding it to the basket she was carrying. Shadow rolled his eyes. If they don’t find the damned flower soon, Rouge was not going to have enough room in the basket to carry them. And knowing her, she would fight to keep her bouquet.
Amy blushed and giggled. “Maybe.”
“Hmmm… a certain hedgehog who can run really fast, perhaps?”
More giggling could be heard, and Shadow rolled his eyes again. He stepped further away from them, intent on locating the Venus Zinnia and getting out of there.
He could not help but think though. If, maybe, if there was another hedgehog Rouge was talking about, and not that damn blue faker. But with Amy Rose, of course it would be Sonic. She would be giving him a flower, if they ever find them. He felt a little surge of anger, mostly at himself, for even thinking that he would ever be a recipient.
“No? Never?” Rouge asked Amy as they made their way over to him.
He had no idea what they were talking about. He didn’t care. Better to drown them out.
“No, I’ve never kissed anyone before!”
“But you used to kiss the blur all the time. I remember.”
Amy laughed. “Yeah, but on the cheek and such. Never a full blown, heart pounding… what else did you call it?”
“Foot- popping kiss?” Rouge picked a wildflower and placed it in her basket. “Well, you still got time. You’ll get one eventually.”
“I… I hope so. Maybe one day I’ll get the courage to. How about you?”
“Oh, honey, I’ve got a history of foot-popping kisses.” Rouge turned to look at her brooding teammate. “Have you had one yet, Mister?”
“I do not see how that is relevant to the mission.”
Rouge laughed and winked at Amy. “That means ‘No’.”
Amy began laughing, but then she noticed something bright and pink poking out of Rouge’s basket. She gasped, and pointed at it excitedly. “Where did you find that?”
Rouge looked down, then jumped a little in surprise. “Oh! We found them!”
Shadow thanked all the lucky stars in heaven. “Grab as many as you can. Let’s get out of here before the weather turns.”
The gray clouds had started rolling in. Amy, always smiling- much to Shadow’s annoyance and delight- looked up at the sky. She held her hand out, checking to see if raindrops were starting to fall, and turned her bright smile to Shadow. He had to look away.
“I love the rain. It’s good for… well, everything! The plants, the earth… even the soul!” Amy bent down and began picking flowers along with Rouge and Shadow. “It’s such a vital part of the world. Without the rain, everything would die. My grandma always used to tell me-”
But the words died in her throat as she reached for the same flower that Shadow was reaching for, and grabbed his hand instead. There was a beat, and the sudden flush of heat on both of their cheeks, but Amy didn’t drop his hand at first. Instead, she gently squeezed his fingers, as if she wanted to hold onto him. Then, with throats clearing, she let go and turned to grab some other flowers- whether it was the Venus Zinnia or not.
Rouge wisely stayed silent, though she saw the whole exchange.
Once the field was cleared of all the Zinnias, the team nodded to one another and began to make their way back through the woods to where Shadow had parked the SUV they drove while on official G.U.N business. The sky had turned dark. The wind was beginning to pick up, and soon, heavy raindrops could be heard on the canopy overhead. Both ladies stopped to look around them.
“It’s going to be worse than we thought.” Rouge pointed out, her wings coming up to shield her from the rain.
“We’re not that far from the car.” Shadow said, still walking forwards, listening to the trees groan in the wind. “We’ll turn the heat on so our fur will get dry qui-”
“SHADOW! Watch out!” Amy suddenly yelled in alarm as a tree branch broke off and began to plummet to the ground.
It was a decent sized branch- one that could do serious harm if it landed on someone’s head.
Which it did.
“ROSE!”
Amy had vaulted herself at the dark hedgehog, knocking him out of the way from the falling branch. The offending limb hit Amy squarely on the back of her head and shoulders, knocking her to the ground with a great “Oof!”
Panic gripped his heart. Amy was laying on the ground, eyes crossed, groaning slightly in pain. Then, in a moment that made his blood run cold- her eyes closed.
“Amy!” Rouge ran to her side, dropping the flowers on the ground as she did so. The bat laid a gentle hand on the side of her young friend’s face. “Honey, please, open your eyes!”
Luckily, Amy heard the command, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Wha… what happened?”
“You were stupid!” Shadow hissed, on his knees. He stared down at her, unable to contain his fury.
“But… you could have gotten hur-”
“I can shake it off. YOU can’t.” Shadow forced himself to remain calm, but the image of the branch falling on her head wouldn’t leave his mind. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what had possessed her to push him out of the way.
“Don’t yell at her! She might have a concussion.” Rouge snapped at her teammate. She turned her attention back to Amy. “Are you alright? Can you sit up?”
Amy took her hand and carefully sat up. The world spun on its axis for a brief moment, but everything righted itself. She just felt like she had a little headache.
And embarrassed. She felt that too.
Rouge lifted Amy’s arm and placed it over her shoulders, helping the hedgehog to her feet. Amy wobbled for a second, but leaned into her friend and sighed.
“Let’s get her to the car. Grab the basket.” Rouge shot an angry look at Shadow, who turned away from them.
Shadow took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. He picked up the basket, cursing all the while. He tried to reason to himself why she would do such a thing. Did she forget that he was basically immortal? That he could survive explosions, disease, the vacuum of space?
Why would she risk her well being for him?
An intrusive thought popped into his head, but he pushed it aside. No, no that couldn’t be the reason. She was just a good soul, who tried to help everyone. She would have jumped into harm’s way, regardless of who was in trouble.
It was one of the reasons he…
Shadow shook his head. She would be alright. He saw no blood, her eyes were clear and focused, and she was now standing on her own. She was alright. He finished picking up the flowers and made his way to them.
_________________________
A little while later, Shadow pulled the car up Amy’s driveway. He looked up at the quaint white house, with its many hanging plants and rose bushes surrounding it. Rouge had insisted that she be dropped off first, so the flowers wouldn’t get the chance to wilt. Amy looked at her with a questioning look, but Rouge gave her a wink and told her she would call her later, to see how she felt.
Which left the two hedgehogs alone together. Shadow gripped the steering wheel and looked up at her home again. It really was a nice place. He sighed.
He had to apologize to her before she left.
“Amy, I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Shadow kept his eyes forward, though he heard Amy shift in her seat to look at him. “I was just… concerned. For your well being.”
Amy shifted again. “You were scared?”
“Concerned.” Shadow repeated. He didn’t want to admit that his heart stopped beating when he saw her laying on the ground.
“Oh.” Amy stayed quiet for a moment, before reaching into the seat behind them to pull out the one flower that she had collected for Tails. “Concerned.”
“Yes.”
Amy sighed, and clutched the flower to her chest. “Shadow, I… I wanted to give you something.”
This made him turn his head towards her. He watched her eyes shut close, her breathing turning heavy, as if she was trying to calm herself down, or talk herself into something.
“What is it?”
With eyes screwed shut, her hand shot out, and she held the Venus Zinnia out in front of him. The fragrance of the flower filled his nostrils suddenly, making his head reel back a bit to escape the perfume. Amy bit her bottom lip and held her other hand close to her chest, her hand in a tight fist.
“This.”
Shadow, confused, looked at the flower again.
“But I thought this was for the fox. He wanted to study it-”
“That was a lie. I… I asked him to say that. Rouge told me you were going after the flower, and I… I knew what it meant, to give it as a gift to someone you care about. I went with you guys so I can get one. I… I… I wanted you to have it.”
Her eyes were still shut tight. Her chest was practically heaving, she was so nervous. Shadow, for his part, felt like everything in his world was finally clicking into place.
A certain hedgehog who could run really fast.
Maybe one day I’ll get the courage to.
His hand gently covered hers, making her open her eyes and look at his face. Shadow had a warm smile, small, but bright. Amy looked like the sun had just beamed down on her. Her fingers loosened, and Shadow took the flower carefully from her.
“I accept this.”
Amy let out a deep breath and smiled nervously. “You… you do?!”
Shadow placed the flower on the dash of the SUV and leaned over the seat. His face came level with her own, and he reached up and cupped her cheek.
“Yes. I do.”
Her lips were soft and warm, and turned up in a smile. He knew he was smiling too. They kissed for a few minutes, Amy giggling in between each kiss, before she pulled away from him. She smiled at him and gripped his hand tightly.
“So… I, uh… guess we’re officially dating, now?”
Shadow squeezed her fingers. “I guess so.”
Amy swooned in her seat. “I’m gonna faint. Never had this worked out for me before.”
Shadow brushed a quill over her ear and chuckled softly. “When it’s right, it’s right.”
Amy leaned into him, resting her forehead on his. “Are you sure about this? I can be a lot, you know.”
“I know. Who else would push a near invincible being out of the way of a twig?”
Amy pursed her lips at him in mock anger, making Shadow close the gap between them.
When he arrived home, he placed the Venus Zinnia in between the pages of a heavy book, and pressed it shut.
It was a memory he wanted to keep forever.
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freak on a leash by korn + the winter soldier
lyric interpretation
"something takes a part of me" - the something being hydra, the part being his old self before the torture and erasure. theyre "taking" it away from him and replacing it with their own agenda, shaving off what they see as unimportant (his sense of self) and moulding the rest into their perfect weapon
"something lost and never seen" - the something here being that part he's losing touch with - the true self thats been lost to time. never seen by most as it's been erased for so long, nobody has seen the real him for decades
"every time i start to believe" - every time he gets a glimpse into who he used to be - every time his memory is jogged by something and he "malfunctions". every time he gets the faintest bit of hope
"something's raped and taken from me" - do i rlly gotta say it 💔 ok but besides the obvious, this something being his memory - every time he regains something, even more is ripped away from him through mind erasure, he physically cannot keep a single fading memory to himself
"life's gotta always be messin with me (you wanna see the light)" - pretty self explanatory. the people in his life fucking with him
"can't they chill and let me be free?" - as above so below
"can't i take away all this pain? i try to every night all in vain, in vain" - his pointless attempts at piecing his life together, all of it to be in vain at its erased anyways
"sometimes i cannot take this place" - this place as in the vault he's kept in, or maybe siberia, whichever works
"sometimes it's my life i can't taste" - once again about his past life. his life fading away along with his senses (random tidbit: i like to imagine his sense of taste is extremely dulled since he was probably fed only though iv. id say its the only one of his senses that isnt heightened as the rest are useful during missions i'd assume. so i think everythings 100x louder for him and he has great vision etc)
"sometimes i cannot feel my face" - the machine used for his electrocution brain blender thing covering most of his face
"you'll never see me fall from grace" - it's practically impossible for him to fail or "fall from grace". due to his expertise and apparent immortality, he will always be a pillar in hydras history. he is idolized as the perfect soldier, no matter what happens and how many times he tries to fight back, he always ends up caving in and doing the work he's been tasked with with surgical precision. his fall from grace is impossible even if he wants to fall
"something takes a part of me" - as above so below
"you and i weren't meant to be" - referring to steve and him, either in the way he's convinced himself he's not meant to be with steve (as we sort of see in their last catws scene where he actively fights back when steve tries to tell him who he is "your name is james buchanan barnes"/"shut up!" *and then he punches the living out of him*") and steves sort of forbiddenness thats engraved into his mind from the vault scene with pierce, or its them actually not being meant for each other, or at least right person wrong time :/
"a cheap fuck for me to lay" - the genius annotation for this one is absolute dogshit so i dont even know what jon was tryna say here but. with the original meaning of the song i see it as the cheap fuck being something worth little effort that's being "laid out". so i'd say thats his mission in catws - killing the fuck out of steve sam and natasha. for its only a "cheap fuck", a simple triple assassination he's probably done thousands of times over
"something takes a part of me" - as above so below
"feeling like a freak on a leash (you wanna see the light)" - self explanatory. he's constantly on a leash that seems to be getting shorter as time passes
"feeling like i have no release (so do i)" - having no escape and peace from his situation. the backing vocals also acting as an answer to the ones in the last verse - he wishes to see the light (or any sort of hope) as well.
"how many times have i felt disease?" - i guess id say the "disease" is the malfunction, him remembering pieces of his past. because he keeps getting mind wiped, he cant remember how many times hes played this game before. not only can he not remember his life, but he cant remember if he's attempted to already. he's only running in circles of trying to figure it out, getting wiped and then trying to remember if he's figured it out before. physically cannot know how many times his code has malfunctioned
"nothing in my life is free, is free" - not being offered absolutely anything without his sacrificing his dignity and being loyal
ok this is it im not trying to piece together wtv jon meant by the rest uhh theres just the chorus which is the same k thx baii
#bananablogs#I guess?#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#winter soldier#catws#this is stuckycoded#am i brave enough to tag as htp? we'll find out in the next episode#korn#freak on a leash#lyric interpretation#idk#bucky......#love him. genuinely insane about him. my LADY#mcu#mcu bucky barnes
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I was going back to see a post of yours where you talked about your Locpez headcanons and that post was from almost more than 5 years ago, so I was curious if you have some other headcanons in mind after that post xd (I'm in a creative block and I really want to draw Locpez, so your ideas would help me a lot).
Oh my god yeah no don’t listen to anything I said on this blog 5+ years ago 😭 I was a beautifully naïve teenager and bad at critical analysis.
This is an awesome ask to receive as someone who loves to talk about Locpez though so I got you boss. Under a cut because it’s long. Big surprise…
I think the ideal Locpez dynamic is something that can hardly be perceived as “romantic” to most people. They’re not very physically affectionate (Locus is uncomfortable being touched, Lopez usually can’t even feel it), they aren’t sweet on each other, they both think compliments and gifts are frivolous and unnecessary.
BUT they both find the excitement and inherent romance of their relationship in constant debate. They keep each other EXTREMELY mentally stimulated and constantly assess each other’s emotional growth. Locus craves the blunt but empathetic criticism and Lopez just needs someone who won’t ever get tired of talking to him.
There’s a lot of weird intimate intensity going on between these two. Locus really wants to metaphorically (and literally) tear Lopez open and stick his hands inside and get electrocuted. Lopez is egotistical and obsessed with the attention so he always eggs Locus on about it. It is NOT normal and they like it that way.
Once Lopez learns about Locus’s history with Felix he starts getting REALLY annoyed whenever Locus is “too easy” for him. His own experience with abuse left him righteous and vengeful and he thinks Locus is better when he has control over his own life/choices and acknowledges that he is a person. This causes a lot of bickering because Locus genuinely just likes Lopez so much he would happily do anything if Lopez asked. It’s OK Locus gets better about it over time
Locus has a bad habit of not processing anything that’s said to him if he deems it unimportant (AKA if it’s not followed up with an order, is unnecessary to his current objective, or doesn’t require his input). But he WILL pick up on and remember the smallest details when it comes to Lopez. Because he clearly has his priorities in order.
I think they generally aren’t loud or obvious about their relationship and most of the Reds and Blues would never even guess that Locus would “stoop” to be romantically involved with Lopez. However Carolina specifically clocks them immediately and enjoys subtly teasing Locus about it to make him fluster.
I always say it but if you’re not making Locpez bear4bear you’re not doing it right!!
Lopez isn’t a martyr but will always play “human” shield for Locus in a fight. Locus’s conditioning to protect Felix + his developing fear of taking advantage of his partner the way Felix did him makes him freak out about it every time. Lopez has to go “You’re an idiot. If I get shot in the spine they only hit replaceable insulation. If YOU get shot in the spine you’re paralyzed from the waist down.” until Locus concedes.
They like to wrestle. They’re both tanks in nature (even if Locus mostly focuses on stealth) so it’s enriching for them to grapple and tussle and throw each other around. Lopez is only a little shorter than Locus but they’re otherwise almost identical in build/weight class so it works out great.
They’re just a little bit obsessed with each other. In a way that doesn’t seem cute or healthy on paper but is actually really good for both of them (in conjunction with a bunch of their other neuroses it works out) because they’ve both been alienated for too long. It’s yay!
(Obligatory 1A mention) Brown Team is skeptical of Locus when he first joins them but then he proves he not only knows his way around weapon and armor maintenance but also knows how to take care of Lopez and they’re like. Fine. I guess he’s cool. He’s not the stepdad, he's the dad that stepped up. He lets them shoot each other with paintball guns when Lopez won’t
Never let anyone convince you that Locpez makes sense. It does not make sense at all
#rvb#locpez#1a#TY for the ask! I haven’t been thinking about Locpez much lately but they’re still bouncing around the back of my mind somewhere.#I’m gatekeeping some of my headcanons for reasons unbeknownst to all of us but most of them are lame anyway.#A lot of them are race related but every time I talk about race here white people decide to insert themselves or argue. LOL.#inbox#silfosukmc
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