#the way otto smiles about this too. LMAO.

[suffarustuffaru]

more of otto being Astronomically down bad for subaru for the entirety of rezero breaktime s2 except i cant put the entirety of rezero breaktime s2 so im just gonna put the Highlights: a compilation (part 1)

[sd1d-enthusiast]

After years of people acting like Daemon “never loved” Rhaenyra or was using her for the throne, it’s so funny to see those arguments completely obliterated in just two episodes. 

In episode 1, we see that he genuinely cares for her: 

he brings her gifts with meaning and sincerity, things that have value that both of them appreciate and can treasure

she is the only one he speaks Valyrian too (he doesn’t do it with Viserys or Mysaria despite them knowing it!). One of the actors said it’s like their own secret love language a

nd that couldn’t be more accurate

look at their banter during the throne room: the way he teases her and the way she snipes back at him but instead of getting angry, he smiles. she makes him smile. 

with her, he puts aside his claws and shows a very rare tenderness. that scene of him carefully putting that necklace on her? he wouldn’t be caught dead doing that to anyone else. 

the look in his eyes when he goes to comfort her during her mom’s funeral? if he was really only looking to use Rhaenyra for the throne this would have been the perfect chance to drive a wedge between her and her father and draw her over to his side. but he doesn’t. why? because he cares for her and sees how alone she is in that moment

In episode 2, we see that Daemon is truly and utterly whipped:

the moment Rhaenyra arrives on her dragon he goes from smug douche mode to “oh fuck the wife is here and i need to behave now mode.” He literally clutches at that egg like a boy caught putting his hand in the cookie jar and Mysaria gives him the biggest wtf look lmao

there’s this tiny smile on his face when she lands and all of Otto’s side is in shock. he’s fucking proud of her for that glorious entrance. he’s glad to see her even if it means things are now much more complicated

Hell, you could even argue he engineered this whole scenario and trolled the fuck out of everyone, just so he could see two people that he cares about most. His brother. And Rhaenyra. He chose the one thing that he knew she’d be pissed about him taking: her brother’s egg. This is what happens when Daemon is bored, lonely, and separated from the people he cares about most for too long.

For all the people who claim Rhaenyra was the unsuspecting victim to Daemon’s desire for the throne and just manipulated and used, Rhaenyra destroys those claims with just a few sentences. “I’m right here, uncle. The object of your ire, the reason you were disinherited. If you wish to be restored as an heir, you need to kill me. So do it. And be done with all this bother.” 

She straight up challenges him and tells him to kill her. Why? Because she knows that there’s no way in seven hells that he would ever come close to doing it. She sees right through him and calls his bluff. She knows he cares too much. And he knows that she knows. Hence, the slightly amused, slightly proud, and very much exasperated “you know I would never do that” look on his face. 

So it’s established that he would never hurt her even if she gave him the chance. Then it’s also established that he would never lie to her either. He does his whole elaborate prank about getting another wife and having a child to everyone, but under her stare, he can’t bring himself to lie. That shows more than just care and affection. That shows that he respects her too much to lie. He can play everyone else for a fool and have his little game, but not Rhaenyra. 

“You already have a wife.” “Not of my own choosing.”  The look he gives her afterwards when she tells him to kill him and he just stares at her in silence. He’s clearly not thinking “this girl really ruined my plans smh.” You can practically see the wheels turning in his head. This mf is involuntarily thinking “I’m going to make this girl my wife one day.” 

TLDR: Daemon is whipped for Rhaenyra and I will hear no objections

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: lmao the ending is so bad but i just wanted to get something out bc i left you guys without an update yesterday and i felt bad 😕 the next chapter i’m gonna try and get up really soon seeing as i’m planning on it being quite short. i hope you all enjoy this one!

warnings: incest, violence, fire, swearing, mentions of sex, tell me if i missed anything!

Chapter Thirteen- Storms

—-

When you wake, your skin is alive.

A fire burns beneath you, licking at your skin and threatening to burst out and burn everything around you.

Your eyes open slowly, and you suddenly decided the fire will not leave you. Will not burn anything. Because Daemon and Rhaenyra lay next to you, and you would never hurt them.

All of you are sprawled out in odd positions, memories of rolling over and falling asleep after they had you as you were filled your mind.

Your lips tingled. You were oddly aware of the marks on your neck. The soreness between your legs.

Daemon keeps a sure arm around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. He is warm and hard, like a comforting reminder that no one will hurt you here.

You stretch, arms reaching above your head. Surprisingly, Daemon doesn’t wake. His arm remains, tight and comforting.

Rhaenyra turns in her sleep, facing you now, and you cannot help but let your eyes try and memorize your face. With a sudden shock, you realize you don’t have to memorize it.

You let yourself drift off again.

—-

Otto Hightower cannot help but frown.

He tries not to. Tries to keep his face impassive always. Tries to be levelheaded and calm.

He knows he is anything but. He knows he is a storm inside. He knows that if there is a goodness after this life, he will not see it. But Otto Hightower cannot find it in himself to care.

What is life if not the pursuit of power? Of legacy?

He is a man. He fears death. He knows he must die.

But if he can make people remember him like this- as the hand of kings, as the father of Alicent, the grandfather of Aegon, then he will be immortal.

To be dead is to be forgotten, and that is what Otto fears.

His spy at Dragonstone has done well, he thinks to himself.

He knows, bitterly, all about Lady Y/N. Is she a witch? A sorceress? Or is her beauty just that striking? She has Rhaenyra and Daemon wrapped around her delicate finger, and that is a dangerous thing.

He wishes, fleetingly, that he was able to get to her. Speak to her. Somehow, someway, get her to support Aegon’s claim. She would sway Daemon and Rhaenyra.

He could not let them live, of course. He would have to send Aegon on Sunfyre, lure them out, and burn them alive. All of them. From that blonde baby to the foolish boy who stole his grandson’s eye to even Lady Y/N.

He would burn every servant. Every handmaiden. Every scullery maid. He would chain and starve each dragon, waited until they died. He would send Daeron to Dragonstone, he thinks. Aemond is too important- Helaena is a Queen- and he will be needed to guide Aegon into greatness. To usher in a new era. To keep the realm in the hands of men, where it was safest.

He is simply a servant to the realm.

He finishes reading the decoded letter, sighing.

Lady Y/N will be a thorn in his side.

—-

The sun shines brightly, and Rhaenyra whispers that it’s for you.

It’s been a week since they brought you back to Dragonstone, and your nights are filled with them and your days are filled with the children. They all demand your attention, and Daemon calls them selfish little brats with a wide smile on his face. Even Jace warms up to you, although still a little stiff.

You look over at Rhaenyra, watching as she leans back into her chair with a smirk.

Baela and Rhaena take turns playing peek-a-boo with Aegon, while Joffrey is entranced by his wooden dragons, neglecting his lunch.

“Really? The sun burns for me?”

“You are the sun. I am just your planet, circling you.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, and you reel from embarrassment. Rhaenyra has always had such a way with words, always succeeding in making you fall into her a little more.

You hear the gossip. That you have Daemon and Rhaenyra wrapped around your finger. But it is a lie. You are wrapped around them.

They orbit you? You orbit them.

They love you? You love them.

They burn for you? You burn for them.

“I love you, Rhaenyra.” She smiles. Says it back. You want to sink beneath her skin.

—-

“Dracarys!” Jace screams, and you laugh excitedly. Vermax rears up, red wings unfurling and his jaw unhinging, swinging wildly.

Fire shoots out, burning the straw dummy set across from the beast. It bursts into flames, and you clap.

Dragons are fire made flesh. They are freaks of nature, and some claim they were born of magic. Nothing ties them to this earth. Their blood is not from here, their scales otherworldly. Magic thrums in them, keeping them alive, and you feel akin to them.

You know what it is like to run on something other than blood.

Jace shouts in triumph, wrapping his arms around Vermax’s neck. The dragon stands there, slightly confused, but happy to have the attention of its master.

Baela scoffs, Moondancer walking beside her.

“We can do better. Can’t we, girl?” The dragon answers with a screech, and you smile again.

Jace shoots her a look, and you sigh.

“Both of you are very talented!” Jace mumbles a thank you, as dragonkeepers urge Vermax into a room to be bathed. You sigh, but Baela shouts your name, commanding your attention back to her.

“Watch! You’re gonna love it!” You smile, and Rhaena perks up from beside you.

The green dragon, as if sensing Baela’s next move, gears up. Her scales are a light green, her horns pearled. She is a beautiful dragon, you think.

“Dracarys!” She shouts, and Moondancer’s wings stretch wide, and red-hot fire explodes from her mouth, burning the straw dummy. In all honesty, there wasn’t really a difference between Vermax and Moondancer. Both targets got burned, you supposed. But you clapped and smiled regardless, hearing a screech from above you.

Caraxes, with his signature screech and red scales, soaring above. Daemon on his back.

Idly, wondered what it would feel like to fly.

—-

“Y/N, my love,” was all the greeting you got before Daemon grabbed you by the back of the neck, slamming his lips into yours. You stood frozen, eyes open, until your lips started moving against him because Daemon was Daemon, and how could you refuse something so beautiful?

You kissed him back, arms wrapping limply around his shoulders, until he pulled back with a grin.

“What was that for?”

You heard the sound of a dragon screech, footsteps around the bend. Baela and Rhaena would see you- Jace had long since retreated back to the castle.

“I’ll kiss you whenever I want,” he smirked, lightly slapping your ass. You glared at him, but the children rounded the corner. The girls greeted their father, Baela immediately talking to him about her dragon.

You grabbed Rhaena’s arm, leading her off the path. She seemed confused, until you bent down to pick up a daisy.

Yellow in the center, white petals folding out. Like the sun, almost.

You gave the flower to her.

“Oh,” Rhaena breathed out, wide smile on her face.

You wished she had a dragon.

—-

Rhaenyra lays with her head in your lap. She whispers to you. Daemon is at the desk, looking over grain shipments.

“I used to think about you. In those 10 years. I thought about you so much that I thought the world might fold over- and we would be together again.”

She reaches her hand up, and you are addicted to her, pliant when she thumbs your bottom lip. Pulling it down and baring your teeth, she watches with rapt attention.

When you kiss the pad of her thumb, she looks into your eyes. There is usually something so reserved in her gaze. Like steel has been poured into her violet eyes, hardening them. But she only looks at you with fire now.

“I am utterly obsessed with you. Did you know that?”

“Prove it,” you bite back, but her face drops.

When she sits up, it is sudden, and you reel back into the safety of the cushions.

“Rhaenyra, I- what?”

And you are wild without her, stir-crazy, and you feel the need to jump out of your skin and into hers because she is so far away and it hurts.

Daemon notices the commotion, craning in his neck. Rhaenyra is near him, now, and he places a hand over her stomach to steady her.

“Rhaenyra? What’s wrong, my love?”

She grabs Daemon by the collar, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

You watch with fear in your heart as his face relaxes into a smile.

“I certainly have no qualms with it.”

“What? What did I do? Rhaenyra?” You cannot live without them. Daemon laughs, a comforting sound, but you are wrapped up in your own terror.

“We want to marry you, Y/N. Let us bind our blood, bond in the ways of Old Valyria. Aegon was married to both of his sisters. We can be married.” When you remain silent, she steps forward. “I know it’s sudden but I was just thinking about you- alone, scared, in the clutches of that horrible man and I won’t ever let you be like that again.” She is rambling. But she cannot help that you have fire in your veins, that she made you that way, and now she is addicted to you. “Marry us, Y/N. Marry us, and you won’t ever have to be alone again. Don’t you want that?”

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic

[writingsofwesteros]

Ok, so I’m thinking a Otto Hightower x reader. Where the reader is Rhaenyra’s younger sister and she does anything to get Otto’s attention (by going to meetings and etc) but he never really notices (he’s still kind to her and friendly). That is until the day Visery’s basically fires him and she reveals her crush (it’s now or never😭) before he leaves. He’s surprised but in a good way lmao. And he basically takes her with him? Maybe some smut

I hope that made sense lol.. 😩

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

SLIGHT NSFW 

You didn’t know where the crush for Otto Hightower came from but it seemingly only grew as time passed. You were thankful that nobody paid enough attention to you to realise how much you stared. Like now, you thought to yourself as you rested against the wall of the council room. Those pretty eyes of yours staring ahead.

You had dressed up for him as well. A bright red dress in complete contrast to anyone else; a beacon. Your jewels glittered in the light as you kept your wavy locks down your back. An off handed compliment from Otto years ago had you favoriting this style. You were hardly concentrating on the talk around you.

“Sister,” Rhaenyra’s voice whispered at the side of you as she gently placed the carrier of wine into your hand. “Is something wrong?” You took it from her. “I just have somewhere to be, can you finish here?” She asked but was already moving from you before you could answer and she took your silence as a yes.

She was always like that, you thought to yourself with a sigh and you as ever was left alone in her wake. It wasn’t long before your attention was brought to Otto once more and your eyes noticed his empty goblet. “My Lord.” You whispered to him as you gracefully moved around the table.

Those dark eyes you loved so much looked up at you. They softened from the annoyance you knew your uncle had placed there. “Princess.” Otto responded and for a moment you swore a smile came over his face. “Another drink, my lord?” You chewed on your bottom lip as you asked.

Thankfully, your father was too distracted in a conversation with Corlys. “Please.” Otto hummed and you hoped a blush wasn’t making its way across your cheeks. You leaned in and began to pour. You missed those eyes of his moving down your body. Your soft breasts are on display at this position.

“Thank you.” The Hand hummed and you slowly moved back; brushing against him accidentally. His mouth watering scent moving over you. You happily smiled before he turned away to speak. The crumb of attention got you through the rest of the day.

“You know, niece…I never saw it before.” Your uncle’s annoying voice came from the side of you as you walked from the council. “Daemon.” You rolled your eyes in greeting as you continued to walk down the corridor. “Should you not be trailing after Rhaenyra?” You hummed up at him.

“Jealous?” The Prince purred down at you and you couldn’t help the laughter escaping you. “Oh, don’t be so arrogant.” You whispered. Moments of silence passed over the two of you and you thought he was leaving you alone. “You are going to make a fool of yourself.” Daemon warned you as he came to a stop.

You only raised an eyebrow in question. “Your little crush. It’s pathetic.” The dragon snarled from him. “And yours isn’t?” You smirked back. Daemon had never scared you and you weren’t about to start being afraid now. “You always did have a bite.” Your uncle hummed and for once you thought you heard a compliment.

“Thank you, uncle.” You hummed before turning around; ending the conversation on your own terms. You clasped your hands behind your back and tried to rid your mind of Otto if only for a moment’s peace. 

~

The news of the hand being fired quickly moved through the court to your ears in what seemed like a flash. Your heart seemingly dropped as you tried to school your reaction as you desperately tried to reach Otto in time. The fear of him leaving before you could tell him your feelings had you nearly sick.

Thankfully, it seemed the Gods were on your side as you moved into the courtyard; the rain pouring down on you. Your heart racing in your ears as your eyes caught sight of Larys Strong. A look of confusion came over you before you quickly moved towards the fired hand of the King at his horse.

“Otto..” You called out without realising it. “My lord..” You babbled as you quickly moved to his side. “Princess.” His face quickly moved into confusion as he turned to lock eyes with you. You realised you must have looked a sight. “Are you well?” The Hand gently asked and his eyes moved over your body.

“Oh..yes.” You whispered and looked down at yourself with a soft blush coming over your face. “I heard you were leaving.” You clasped your hands behind your back; playing with your fingers nervously. “I am.” Otto answered; still unsure why you were here as those dark eyes of his continued to watch you.

“Do you have to go?” You softly whispered and ducked your head when the words fell from your mouth. A beat of silence moved over you both and you forced yourself not to look up and into his face. “I do.” The hand finally replied and your heart fell and broke all at once. “I see.” You muttered.

Otto slowly reached for your hand. The first touch between you both and it had your heart racing. “Do you want to come with me?” He didn’t know why he asked but when your eyes flashed to him with such excitement and relief; he knew he made the right choice. “What about my father?”

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement.” Otto smirked and watched you move closer to him. His dark eyes moved over your glorious body that he had dreamt about more times than he should. “We should go quickly.” You whispered up at him; your own smile coming over your face to match his.

~

Gods, what had he done to have such a Goddess, Otto thought as he watched you bounce on top of him. Your hands rested on his chest as you took his cock deliciously. Your soaked walls are tightening around him as his name easily falls from your lips. It brought a smirk to his face as his hands rested on your hips.

“Princess.” Otto whispered up at you as his hand moved to cup your breast. His fingers teasing your pebbled nipples. Your movements only quickened as you rolled your hips. His cock hitting your soft spot that had your stomach tightening. “Please..” You whimpered out, hardly knowing what you were begging for. 

Otto smirked and flipped you over. He watched you gasp and those pretty eyes of yours widened. “I don’t think I would have stayed away from you if I had stayed as hand.” He whispered into your ear. You whimpered and arched into him. “I wouldn’t mind.” You babbled out.

“Good, I’m not leaving you now.” He darkly promised and began to mouth at her neck. His hips rocked and your hands moved to palm at his arse. Pulling him deeper as you wrapped your arms around his waist. His larger hand moved down your chest and began to play with your already soaked pussy.

You wondered how long this bliss could last; but right now, you hardly cared about anything other than the pleasure he was giving you.

[nahoney22]

I posted 1,572 times in 2022

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#i have a three hour social visit in the morning and the last thing i need is to be crying because of spoilers.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See You Again***

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Doc Ock X F!Reader

word count: f knows it’s long probably like 5-6k sorry lmao

You’re visited one night at work by Doc Ock himself and every memory you once had of him came swarming back; as did the untold feelings you shared for him.

warnings: 18+ so minors shoo. Ock being a bit creepy to reader, slight manhandling but nothing sinister. Nsfw, Smut, praise, dirty talk, p in v sex, restraints used by tentacles, bit angsty and a bit of fluff, cream pie, swearing, not properly proofread. One off shot, won’t do a part 2 ❤️

A/N gif by me. Request for my beautiful @itsjml - Happy belated birthday 👑 and this is my first Doc Ock fic! So I hope you enjoy you doc ock fuckers 🐙

Italics is flashback

—————————

When the news struck about Otto Octavius robbing banks, destroying buildings and becoming the new villain of New York, you couldn’t believe it.

This was Otto, your Otto. Well, he never was but you had once or twice imagined in your silly thoughts that he could be. Funny, right? The only man to pay you any mind, only one to actually talk with you about everything and anything. And now he is gone; replaced by a villain that terrorizes the city.

When you met Otto, it was your second week into the job at Oscorp. It was Harry who initially hired you as the two of you had been friends in college and when he heard you were looking for something just to help pay rent at your small apartment, he just had a new position open up; a receptionist.

It wasn’t the glamorous job you always thought you’d have as a young, naive kid but the pay was decent. It was just a tad boring, answering emails and phone calls on a phone that you had to hold the cord in a certain place to hear the customer properly all day long.

But, you found yourself enjoying it more when you met Otto. You had seen him a few times and low-key admired the tall, slightly heavy set man from afar but it wasn’t until one storming morning you first spoke to each other.

Running towards the building in the blistering winds and heavy downfall of rain as black clouds wrapped around the city sky, you didn’t realise that in your mad sprint you had dropped the fob onto the floor.

As you went to let yourself in, you cursed as the fob wasn’t anywhere on your person.

By now, your hair was drenched, strands clinging onto your damp face and your white shirt did you the injustice of becoming transparent and showing off your dark navy bra. You didn’t even bring a coat because the forecast was supposed to be bright and sunny all week - not torrential rain.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over you and a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders and brought you close to their side. Since you were always told to be wary about foes in the city, you were about to make a swipe at them and tell them off for randomly grabbing you but as you looked at them the side profile of the Doctor you had been admiring stood at your side with an umbrella sheltering you both.

“Drop your fob, ma’am?” He questions, not taking a look at you as he pulled out his own entry device and swipes it against the door as the two of you piled into the warmth of the building.

“Uh, yeah. Looks that way.” You shudder once his arm leaves you and you turn to see him shake out the rain from his umbrella before he looks up at you and smiles. And what a charming smile he had.

You weren't sure, but you would hazard a guess that this man was trying his damn hardest not to tear his eyes away from your face to gaze at your slight state of exposure but, being the gentleman he seemed to be, he didn’t. “You’re Harry’s friend.” He says more of a statement than a question.

Stupidly looking at him all awestruck like, it was when he cleared his throat that you snapped out of your gaze and thanked your red cheeks on the cold weather rather than the embarrassment of staring at him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

See the full post

448 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#4

Touch Starved with Tech

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 3.4k

The fifth and final instalment of the Touch Starved Series with the gorgeous Tech.

warnings: none, touch starved Tech, fluff, a little suggestive if you squint. Enjoy 🤍 SCHEDULED POST.

Masterlist

——————————

Affection was not something Tech had any particular interest in when growing up nor was it something he was ever on the receiving thing of. It didn’t bother him, no. In fact, he never felt as though he needed to hug someone or shake someone’s hand to show comfort or gratitude. Why would he when his mind was racing with a thousand different ways to show these types of feelings?

That all changed however when you came into his life.

You had met him and the rest of the batch on Kamino, working under Master Jedi Shaaki Ti as one of the medical team. It was her who had signed you up to work with Clone Force 99 and although you all seemed reluctant, it was the best thing to ever happen.

There was no mistaking that Tech had found you attractive, every one of his brothers did and it didn’t help that you were also incredibly kind-hearted and funny. You were patient but brutally honest when you had to be and most of all? You listened to him.

It was a calm day for the Batch, relaxing on the sands of Tatooine and waiting for the next set of missions to come fire their way and Tech was doing his typical daily repairs. However, he ran into a small problem with one of the compartments under the control panel that controls the reflector shields and needed an assistant.

You just so happened to be walking past and glance in his way to see the harsh concentration grace his sharp features. “Everything alright, Tech?”

Glancing up from under the panel upon hearing the sound of the voice, an idea popped into his mind. “Ah! I don’t suppose you could spare a minute or two and assist me with some general repairs?”

“Are you sure? I’m not exactly good at that kind of stuff.” It’s not that you did not want to help but the thought of possibly accidentally breaking something triggered in your mind. It wasn’t until Tech said that you only had to hold some wires and maybe pass him some tools that finally convinced you to help.

“Well, okay then. Let me just take my jacket off and I’ll come under.”

“Not a problem, I can wait.” Tech confirmed by pulling himself back under the panel, laying on the flat piece of his armour on his back and awaited your return.

When you did, the top half of your body only sported a vest top since the ship was hotter than usual (obviously because of the planet and obviously because Wrecker had accidentally broken the cooling system… another task for another day) and got on your knees beside him.

“Alright I’m ready! Can I come under?”

Tech made a noise of what could only be a grunt of approval, slightly shifting more to his left to give you some room as you lay on your back and shimmied your way up beside him. “Okay sir, what would you like me to do?”

Your formal address to him made him chuckle in amusement. “Please, you do not need to call me such formalities as I am nothing more than your teammate. But, I would like you to hold onto this yellow wire whilst I calibrate the circuit board just here.”

Subtly, you rolled your eyes at Tech’s correction to the nickname you gave him but nonetheless took the yellow between your fingers and watched him tinker away.

As you watched him, your eyes traveled down to spot the side of his face, small beads of sweat trickling down from his temple. His face remained set in concentration, jaw clenching and slightly gritting his teeth.

Safe to say that if you were wearing something with a collar, you'd be hot underneath it.

Out of all the members of the Batch, you were probably closest to Tech and but that has unfortunately led to you feeling some kind of way around him. You tried to brush it off as a little crush but the more he taught you, spoke to you… it was definitely more than a little crush.

You tore your eyes away once he asked for the wire back and as you passed the wire towards him, his gloved fingers wrapped around your index finger accidentally causing Tech to gasp and pull back quickly.

Eyes widening a little at his reaction, the first thought that came to mind was that he had an electric shock of some kind.

“Tech, what was that? You okay?” You asked quickly, shifting a little on your side to look at him better as he inspected his fingers closely after dropping his spanner onto his chest.

“I am not too sure what it was but I can assure you that I am alright and you should not be alarmed.” He said simply but on the inside, his blood was boiling and his heart was racing.

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449 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#3

I feel like none of this would’ve happened if Plo Koon didn’t die

486 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

#2

Touch Starved with Echo

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Echo X GN!Reader

word count: 2.6k

The fourth instalment of the Touch Starved Series and this time it’s with the handsome Echo who feels as though he’s not worthy of any comfort.

warnings: This ones a little angsty as Echo is super insecure about his relatively new ‘modifications’. Reader comforts Echo so fluff will be expected too.

Masterlist 🤍

My Ko-Fi 🤍

————————————

Echo being touch starved was not a surprise to anyone. Echo knew he was and so did you and so did his vod to be honest.

The only problem was that he did not like to be touched. At all. The only contact he had recently was with Tech who makes adjustments to his newly modified body and the thought of anyone else touching him made him feel sick.

Sick because he no longer felt like a human and sick at the thought of someone being disgusted by him.

When he met you however, he saw no signs of disgust on your face when you first met in that hangar. However, he stayed way back from you whenever it came to physical contact.

In fact, you thought that you had insulted him when you stuck out your hand to shake his but as he went to put his hand towards you he winced silently and just nodded instead.

But, the two of you got along and that’s all that mattered.

It was a quiet day for the squad, drifting through space as Hunter and Crosshair took control of the cockpit, Wrecker was snoozing in his bunk meanwhile Echo and Tech were tinkering away in the main hull of the ship.

Echo was calibrating something for Tech, the use of his scomp being a valuable asset to the task but Echo noticed that it began to malfunction. He pulled it out of the socket and gave it an experimental twirl but sighed as it got jammed. This wasn’t the first time either, it had been happening at least three times a week and it happening in the middle of working wasn’t great.

“Hey Tech,” he called over to the goggled clone who was head down in his datapad and scanning through the ships files, “my scomp is jammed again.”

He looked up and frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t assist you at the moment.” Then, you walked in and a lightbulb ignited in his brain. “Y/N can help you.”

“Help you with what?” You question, surprised at the sudden task being put on you as soon as you entered.

Echo felt a little nauseous. “Oh, er- it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing when we need your help with repairs on my ship. Now let them help.” Tech said almost dismissively as he stood and went to speak with Hunter about whatever which just left you two alone.

You immediately sensed his slight hostility about you helping but you were now adamant to tend to whatever he needed and so sat on the swivel chair next to his and smiled. “Is it your scomp?” You nod towards his arm and he arches a brow.

“How did you know?”

“Heard you were having trouble with it a few days ago is all.” You tell him, grabbing some of Tech’s tools that he left on the side by his workbench. “I probably won’t get it working perfectly but I could have a nosey at it.”

Echo chewed on the inside of his cheek, tossing the proposition of you helping him up in his mind until he sighed and nodded. “That’ll be helpful.”

“Not a problem, just place your arm up on here.” You pat the workbench and Echo does as he is told, begrudgingly laying his arm or what was left of it on top and watches as you inspect it before grabbing a small scalpel.

“I’m just gonna see if it’s jammed with dirt first.” You figured telling him what you were about to do with his body was the best step to take, not wanting to do something that might make him snap at you which if you were being honest, didn’t think would ever happen. Echo was always so kind to you and made you caf in the mornings but you soon began to realise you didn’t know much about him. You knew he was a ‘reg’ but you were not told the whole story of how he joined the squad in the first place.

You only joined a month or two after he did as a medic who also knew their way around a power converter and repairing engines so Echo knew he was in somewhat good hands.

You scraped the scalpel alongside the socket, gently tugging at any dirt or oil residue that may have slipped in and cleaned it on some tissue before putting it back in.

See the full post

671 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

OH AND THE NEW ARMOUR??? LOVE

1,628 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

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[rebeccccccaaa]

pυllιɴɢ тнe тrιɢɢer

____________________________

Peтer Pαrĸer х Reαder

Ѕυммαry: You were given a mission to get rid of Peter Parker by Dr Otto Octavius. So here you were face to face and all you have to do is pull the trigger. 

Wαrɴιɴɢѕ: angst, implied sexy times (no smut tho), fluff, i think that’s it

αυтнor ɴoтeѕ: my friend helped me with this concept and i was so excited to do it! i don’t kow if this is my best work lmao but i hope y’all like it! 

_____________________________

 “What are you waiting for?” Peter asked you, facing away from you out the balcony.

You were currently about ten feet away from him with a loaded gun aiming for the center of his back. 

This moment was what you’ve been waiting for the past 6 months. You were an intern with Dr. Otto Octavius, or Doctor Octopus. You had seen the rage the doctor had towards Spiderman and now that Peter’s identity was revealed, Dr. Oc was determined to have him killed. 

He couldn’t kill a kid though, how awful the public would paint him if he did so. Mysterio’s plan to paint Peter a villain didn’t work so he had to wait until he grew up and fucked up something, anything. 

That didn’t work either. So he sent you. You trained everyday for combat and use of weaponry for this exact day. Peter, the newest owner and CEO of Stark Industries, was supposed to die. His tormenting would be over, but you just couldn’t pull the trigger.

You were his PA, so you studied him very closely. Too closely. You saw the side of him he kept away from the public, the side that would break down from the stress, the side where he laughed so hard he would tumble over. 

You started getting confused why Otto even hated Peter. He was… well, perfect. 

You learned so much from him and he was so admirable. Hardly any enemies besides middle-aged men who actually just hated Tony; him being gone meant Peter was their next target. Some days you even forgot what you were even there for in the first place. When you would meet with Otto to update him of your mission, you simply would roll your eyes at any insult or comment made about the poor guy. 

You thought back to all those times and you just couldn’t pull the fucking trigger. 

“Y/n?”

“Shut up!” you shouted.

Peter slowly turned around with his hands visible. 

“I’ve known about this day, so come on. Finish your mission,” he said.

You huffed and stomped forward jabbing your gun to his chest; your eyes bore into his. The gun was cocked, you just needed to pull the damn trigger and you be done; free of this stupid mission.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. 

“You’re shaking.” 

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” you yelled. 

“y/n,” he whispered.

You screwed your eyes shut and raised your hand still holding the gun and swung across Peter’s face in a fit. You hit him on his eyebrow and he looked up at you with slight shock. He lightly bled but thankfully he wasn’t really in pain. 

You looked at him with teary eyes and your face dropped when you saw what you did in rage. You started apologizing profusely. And the rage wasn’t towards him, you were so frustrated with yourself. Confused and anxious. Your hands trembled and Peter gently took them in his hands. 

You looked at him and sighed. He just pulled you in a firm hug. You wanted to scream and cry and just let it all out. You couldn’t understand why you were breaking down. All you had to do was pull that fucking trigger and here were falling apart as if it was the hardest thing to do. 

“Look at me, baby,” he said cupping your face.

“I have to kill you,” you whimpered.

“I know but you don’t have to and I know you don’t want to,” he said.

“He told me to,” you cried.

“I know.”

“He's gonna be so mad.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to go back to him. You can stay here with me; I’ll keep you safe. I’d never let anything hurt you.”

“Peter.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered and pulled you in a hug.

During these six months, you and Peter had gotten particularly close. Rumors were always written about you two in gossip articles. You had to remind yourself more than once and Otto why you were there in the first place. 

Otto got mad at you after four months for taking too long since you were hired as his personal assistance. You told him there wasn’t a good time to do so and he was convinced; but you were going to galas and parties as Peter’s date.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I just can’t.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve the world, Y/n.”

Peter cupped your jaw and leaned in to softly kiss your lips; something he’d been wanting to do since you got hired. First, he thought it might be unprofessional but he moved past that quickly. Then he felt like maybe you didn’t like him that way so he didn’t push. And then, well, he found out why you were really there. 

But he knew, somehow, that you were stalling. You were putting off the ‘inevitable’ when you could’ve done so months ago. He didn’t mind your company so he never called you out. He knew you were falling in love with him too. 

His lips felt velvety against your lips and you couldn’t help but melt in his arms. He spun you around so your back was against the cold railing and his strong arms caged you in. 

You gasped for air since he took your breath away, literally. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of your skin, lips tracing along the side of the neck. His hands grabbed at your waist to pull you in close to his body. 

He could taste the salty tears on your cheeks as you kissed him back. Your arms wrapped around Peter’s neck pulling him flushed against your body; chest to chest. He pulled away once more and rested his forehead against yours breathing softly. 

“I’m taking you home, princess,” Peter chuckled, scooping you in his arms as you giggled too. 

You woke up the next morning, entangled in the sheets with Peter arms around you. Your head rested on Peter’s bare chest; his skin felt hot against your cheek. You looked up at him to see his eyes still closed.

He was so pretty, sleeping carelessly. You kissed his jaw and neck inhaling his cologne he still had on from last night. Your kisses woke him up with a pleasant smile on his face. 

“Good morning, darling,” he said, moving his body to face yours more.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you giggled.

“Yeah, I might've been a little rough, sorry,” he buried his face in your neck.

“Don’t be. I enjoy last night very much,” you smiled. 

Peter looked at you and there was long silence that settled between you two. What was supposed to happen now? You were supposed to kill him last night and instead you landed on your stomach on his bed as he practically fucked brains out. Not that you minded… 

“What happens now?” you whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Darling, I promised you that I’d keep you safe. I mean it with everything in me.”

“He’s gonna kill you himself and then he’ll kill me,” you sniffled. 

“Y/n, look at me,” he cupped your face making you look at his eyes.

“If Otto can even get within a hundred feet of you, I swear to god, I’ll kill him.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he chuckled; another blanket of silence.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” you spoke up after a bit.

“I did. But I understand if you don’t feel the same way. It kinda came out suddenly. I don’t mean to scare you-”

“I love you too,” you interrupted.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I think so. All the time we spent together, I just- I couldn’t kill you because I- I love you. Please don’t be mad about that. I had no choice and I didn’t really know you the way I do now. I didn’t know the amazing guy behind the spiderman mask; but now I think he’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” he said against your lips before kissing you deeply. 

You wouldn’t say you regret the mission because without it you would never met Peter, seen how amazing he is; and you sure as hell don’t regret not pulling the trigger of that goddamn fucking gun. 

Peter kept his promise about keeping you safe away from Otto and away from anybody who was after Peter for whatever reason. And you couldn't be happier being with him.

[troublesometrollhunters]

Can we have Valentine Day head canons on how Otto, Strickler, and Nomura would surprise their human crush? thank u <3

(The Changelings have very different definitions of a date and romantic lmao)

Valentines Day :D

Strickler

Stricklander is never one to halfass things and he likes to take pride in the fact he is a romantic. He has a night planned for Valentine's Day and knows you'll enjoy it. After all he planned it for you.

He tells you he has a surprise and to dress nice. An hour before your reservation he arrives at your house in his best suit and tie with a bouquet of flowers. Having a drink at your house together he won't tell you what he has planned and says to trust him. He likes keeping you on your toes.

You always seem so excited to find out what he's planning. Especially since he's so good at hiding what he's feeling so he keeps it a secret as you drink together.

This date is important to him. Strickler has been planning this for months on the side of his very busy changeling work and disguise job. He's taking you to the most romantic and fanciest resturant in town for this special occasion and he has pulled strings to make this the most romantic date ever.

When you arrive to the restaurant your lead away from all the other table's and too a private part of the restaurant. You have an entire room to yourself, and better yet it's glass so you can see the stars while enjoying your meal together. You order and he smiles as you chat waiting for the food.

As Strickler holds your hand under the table he smiles squeezing it. He leans in for a kiss and you kiss back face flushed from the wine and romance.

Nomura

She has a secret romantic side but only for you. She wouldn't call herself a romantic because she's not one but being surrounded by Renaissance art and constantly hearing proclamations of love in the museum can leave one wanting for love.

Your the first one she's liked since Draal... she wants this date to be special. She may not be sentimental but she's not ready to let you go yet.

Nomura decides her job has some perks when she's able to sneak you into the museum after hours. She has a set up waiting and hopes this'll be special enough for you.

A blankets set out with a bottle of wine. As you two sit your surrounded by beautiful art as you stare out of the muesums ceiling out at the stars.

For hours you drink and laugh and talk and Nomura hasn't felt like this in a long time, if ever. She hopes the night never ends and the day never comes as she leans on you listening to you talk.

Otto

He's been busy but he always makes time for you. And today is your special time together, nothing will get in the way of this. Not even Gunmar. (Please no one tell Gunmar)

For his work he's always out and about. Going to meetings, dinners, lunches, companies, premieres, parties. He's almost always travelling or away so for Valentine's he just wants to spend it in the house with you.

He originally tries to make you a romantic dinner while you were getting ready at your place but he burned it and decided ordering out would be better.

He lights candles to get rid of the smell but also to get in the spirit of Valentine's. He bought you flowers and chocolates and a card and thought you could watch old movies together and cuddle. It's nothing really special but to him being with you and having time off is the most special thing he could ask for.

When you get there he enjoys eating with you and smiles as you laugh and chat the whole movie. When you fall asleep cuddled up to him he hums falling asleep with you. This was perfect.

[multifandomwritings]

Ok so. My self-insert/oc is this science major (radiobiology) that works as a waitress at Moondance Diner (where MJ worked in the first one) to get her thru college.

So I started thinking that maybe... Otto would be that one "regular" that visits the diner, same day/time every week. And he's quickly becomes her favorite customer. He's polite, sweet, funny, enthusiastic, calls her "dear" and always tips, even if all he gets most of the time is a cup of coffee.

Just. The idea of being in the middle of a crappy day, and seeing that sweet older man that always smiles, always asks how you're doing, remembers things you told him from previous visits. You see him walk in the door with a little wave and smile before sitting in his usual spot, close to you, and suddenly the place feels a little brighter before he can even say "hello".

I waitressed for four years before I got sick, and the idea of him visiting and say "good morning, dear, how's my favorite little busy-bee doing today..?" just makes me so giddy and stupid 😭

Anyways, I just thought that you'd find it cute too, lol

Thank you again for the request you did for me, by the way! I read it a couple more times after, and it still makes me smile ❤

Ahh omg I definitely do find it cute!! :') I'm gonna be thinking about this for a minute lmao I love the thought of it 😭 This really made me smile, thank you so much for sending it! And I'm so glad you liked it btw :'))

[luxurycatscratchpost]

surely angels must look like that - mortha

so i guess in writing again lmao. anyway, im a slut for artist!moritz so there’s that. have fun reading this shit lmao

special thanks to @meltedlamp for assuring me this isnt that bad

it was midsummer. herr and frau steifel had been called on for matters that moritz had forgotten the specifics of, most likely a wedding. out of necessity, moritz was perhaps responsible enough to have the house to himself while they were gone. that leads us to this particular lazy morning, moritz and martha laid in moritz’s bed, still mostly asleep. 

mortiz awoke slowly, yawning. he turned to look at the girl beside him, still fast asleep. she lay on her side, one arm on the pillow obstructing most of her face. through a small gap, moritz could see the faint outline of a puddle of drool in the light from the window. one of her legs stretched down further, the other hiked up, half in the fetal position. in her sleep, she breathed deep and let out a contented sigh. moritz, quickly realizing that this may be the most beautiful and serene scene he may ever lay his humble eyes on, quietly reached to his bedside table and grabbed his sketchbook. It was a small, thick, cloth-bound book with a leather rectangle on the cover, embossed with his name. he had gotten it as a gift from martha on their first real date, at a market in the next town over. in return he had filled many a page with drawings of her. he flipped to an empty page quickly, not wanting to miss his chance to capture martha’s beauty. he set his pencil to the paper and began to draw her face. as he drew, he thought of the first day he met martha. they were very young, but moritz remembered vivdly how the sunday school room lit up when she smiled.

surely angels must smile like that

as he finished her face, his pencil drifted to where her hand would be. he thought of the first time he had the honour of holding martha’s hand. they were maybe nine, and had joined a few other sunday school children to a town fair to volunteer. after their volunteer time was up, the chidren played about the town square. by the time anyone had thought to ask for the time, martha had barely ten minutes to get back home before curfew. with the sun setting, moritz volunteered to walk her home, and she insisted that, to make it home in time, they would walk through the forest. as the sky got darker, they clung to eachother’s hands like life preservers, martha nearly jumping into moritz at any movement in the trees. It wasn’t until martha let go, mere steps from her door, that moritz realized just how sweaty his hand was.

surely angels must have hands like that

moritz began drawing her hair, trying to capture the carefree way it was splayed against the pillow. the freedom it seemed to have when she let it down. how it danced in the wind when she convinced him to leave the house in a storm. how it moved in the water the day she pushed thea into the river, and was pulled in herself. he thought of just how happy martha was when she took out her braids. his pencil lines grew thicker and heavier as he thought of the reason those moments were so rare. although, mortitz calmed himself before he broke the graphite.

surely angels must have hair like that

moritz’s drawing progressed steadily as he moved down the paper, past her shoulders and down her torso. when he reached her hips he paused. his thoughts drifted to one particular afternoon by the river, not too long ago. as the sun prepared to set, martha, with anna and wendla in tow, began walking home, leaving moritz with melchior, georg and otto. as much as he hated to admit it, he had watched her hips move ever so slightly under her dress. he admired how she moved with such poise and grace. He wasn’t able to get that image from his mind for days.

surely angels must have hips like that

as moritz began the first lines that would form her legs, he felt a dip in the bed as martha moved. she stretched her arms and opened her eyes, noticing the sketchbook in moritz’s lap. she sat up slowly and sighed as she rested her head on moritz’s shoulder. she signed,

“what are you doing there, handsome?”

“drawing angels.”

[friendlyspidercop]

#39 with ps4!peter pls? lmao

Walking into the incorrect bathroom and meeting eyes with them before quickly realizing the mistake.

looool yes ofc i love that one :’) 

“hey doctor octavius, what do we have goin’ on today?” peter asks, sitting on a nearby stool as he watches doctor octavius run about the lab, trying to straighten up everything. peter was slightly amused- if the messy lab didn’t speak for it, otto was never really one to care about neatness if it meant less time for research. “nothing stops science, peter! not even that coffee cup from last week!” he had told him. 

doctor octavius disappears behind a stack of boxes and all peter hears is the loud crash! of something that was hopefully nothing too expensive to replace. peter raises an eyebrow, stretching his neck to try and see over the boxes. 

doctor octavius peeks over the stack, placing a now cracked glass beaker on top of one of the boxes. “we have someone coming in for an interview today, parker! we just might have someone with a fresh face and fresh ideas! – not that your ideas aren’t great already, but the more the better!” 

peter grins, standing up from the stool to help otto with cleaning up. he chuckles, straightening a few books. “oh, okay! i’ll be back to help you clean- mind if i go to the restroom real quick?”

“quickly! i don’t know exactly when they’ll be arriving!” 

peter gives a quick thumbs up to otto before running outside the lab to the hall where the bathrooms are. 

gotta be quick. 

…

“smells kinda funny in here,” a voice mumbles, shutting the bathroom door behind them. 

peter’s eyes widen and slowly travel to the right of the urinals where he’s currently peeing and… oh god, are those heels? his stomach drops, cheeks flush with embarrassment as he looks up at whoever just walked into the bathroom. it’s… this must be the prospective employee. 

peter can barely think straight long enough to realize that he should probably zip up his pants as you turn to make eye contact with him, watching the hopeful look in your eyes slowly fade away into terror. you’re dressed in a fitting, business jumpsuit perfect for first interviews and an absolutely terrified expression on your stunning face. peter has a hard time getting words out of his mouth, instead making helpless and embarrassing noises as he tries to gather himself before you.

“i am so, so sorry!” you shout very loudly, hiding your face behind your bag. did you really just walk in on your potential future co-worker relieving himself?! “i-i thought this was the women’s bathroom. i must’ve not been looking when i walked in i-” 

you ramble, trying to find the door handle with your eyes closed, even if your face is hidden behind your bag. you want to melt or fade or disintegrate into nothing or be struck by lightning or anything to get you out of this situation! 

“i- uh… i usually prefer dinner before letting people see the… intimate parts,” peter blurts without thinking. 

as if it was no longer possible for your cheeks to heat up any more than they already have, you flush a deep red while peter’s face twists painfully, mortified that those were his first words to you. 

“i’ll just go,” you say, still talking loudly as you tend to when you’re flustered. you finally find the handle, thank goodness, and almost trip out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind you before peter can even say a word. 

the door closes. peter blinks. then blinks again. if she gets the job, i’m glad i made a great first impression, he thinks sarcastically. 

peter washes his hands and takes a deep breath before stepping back outside, steeling himself to prepare for the inevitable embarrassment that he’s about to experience. 

upon re-entering the lab, he sees otto trying to get you to drink a glass of water, inquiring about whether or not you were coming down with a fever. peter can’t help but feel bad for you, so throughout the interview, he tries not to pressure you to much when otto asks him if he has any questions for you. 

he and otto find out that you’re qualified, more than qualified even, to work with them and honestly? peter’s impressed. you seemed as if you did a lot of research about their work and you seemed really passionate. although you avoided eye contact with peter whenever you could, he had to give you credit for how quickly you were able to pull yourself together. 

“well, miss (y/n), i think you’ll be a valuable asset to our little team here. when can you start?” otto asks, putting down his clipboard which has plenty of notes he jotted down during the interview. as far as peter can tell from where he stands beside otto, all of them are praises of how prepared you are for this job. 

“i’d love to start as soon as possible! maybe tomorrow even?” you ask excitedly- it’s clear that you’re here for passion and nothing else. 

peter can see your genuine excitement and enthusiasm. he loves it.

otto can see the smiles peter is directing towards you that you can’t. 

“great! tomorrow, then,” otto says, giving you a firm handshake. 

“tomorrow,” you confirm. 

you’re about to reach for peter’s hand when otto clears his throat. “parker, why don’t you walk (y/n) downstairs, see that she finds her way out safely?” 

“oh,” you interject, “there’s no need for that, really i-” 

but otto clears his throat again, giving a pointed look at peter with his eyebrows raised. 

“o-oh, okay…?” peter seems to get some message from otto that you’re not quite perceiving and leads you out of the building. 

once the two of you are outside, peter coughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“listen, i didn’t mean to be so awkward when you- well, you know…” 

you cringe, spinning on your heels to face him. “you don’t need to start apologizing, really. i’m the one who should be apologizing if anything. i’m sorry.” 

he coughs out what sounds like a laugh, shifting his weight between his feet. “yeah… listen, i don’t know if this is too soon, but how about we meet for coffee tomorrow morning before we start? i promise i’m not usually as awkward as earlier.” 

you grin and nod. “i’ll hold you to that. 7:30?” 

he gives a thumbs up, stepping back towards the entrance to go back into the building. “sounds great.” 

“alright then, pete.” 

his heart sings; nicknames already? 

before he can open the door to go back inside, you call his name again. 

“thank you, by the way. for… not being weird about that. i thought i would never get the job after it.” 

peter turns around again and… well, you can never stop leaving him breathless with all your beautiful expressions, can you? 

you bite your lip gently, gripping tightly onto the shoulder of your back, looking unsure. he smiles, easing your nerves. 

“you’re welcome.” 

(peter may or may not have been late to coffee the following morning, but you can’t help but forgive him when he apologizes profusely and blushes whenever you laugh. oh well.)

[hetamyumusic]

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T/N: This clip comes from the short portion of the live version of Hoomupaati wo Yarou [3-12] in which they created an entirely new rap to slip into the song. Most of these lyrics should be correct thanks to the screen behind the actors displaying the lyrics but this is still considered not quality checked. This is also the only time I will be including a video/audio to supplement the lyrics for the sole nature of this rap not being already released on some audio CD like all the other Hetamyu songs. (And also it’s short enough that tumblr doesn’t yell at me about it being too big a file XD My Hetalive files total to 125 GBs lmao). So as much as I wanna hype to people about the two mashup songs, this is the only exception I’m making.

Kanji

おっと、まだまだ続くぜ 今日はパーティーナイト こののまま全然もの足りない だから歌うぜ今日はパーティーだ！ 反対意見は受け付けない ヒーローも言う事は偉大 与える影響はもちろん絶大 君もヒーローになれる絶対 だから大きな声で言いたい

夢を諦めるな 必ず叶う 大事なのは信じる 強い使命 君は落ち込みと君は笑い 夢を背負って 前へ進め

時に悲しい別れも 会うだろう だけど笑い会える 時も来るだろう ヒーローの道はHigh & Low めげずMy Way 二つが進んでけ前へ

Romaji

otto, mada mada tsudzuku ze kyou wa paatii naito kono no mama zenzen mono tarinai dakara utau ze kyou wa paatii da! hantai iken wa uketsukenai hiiroo mo iu koto wa idai ataeru eikyou wa mochiron zetsudai kimi mo hiiroo ni nareru zettai dakara ooki na koe de iitai

yume wo akirameru na kanarazu kanau daiji na no wa shinjiru tsuyoi shimei kimi wa ochikomi to kimi wa warai yume wo seotte mae he susume

toki ni kanashii wakare mo au darou dakedo warai aeru toki mo kuru darou hiiroo no michi wa High & Low megezu My Way futatsu ga susundeke mae he

English

Oops, let’s keep it coming Today is a party night As it is, things are not at all lacking That’s why I’ll sing, today’s a party! I won’t accept any opposition Things the hero says are great Granted influences are, of course, tremendous You can definitely become a hero That’s why I want you to say it in a loud voice

Don’t give up on your dreams they will always come true What’s important is to believe in your strong mission If you’re feeling down, smile Shoulder your dreams and continue forward

You may meet times of sadness but times of smiles may also come The hero’s path is High & Low I won’t shrink from My Way The two continue on forward

[good-wine-and-cheese]

monster characters from most to least attractive GO

Oh my god you’re really gonna force me to expose my personal preferences….jeez, okay. Well I’m gonna do it this way; I’ll rank them in order of physical attractiveness (imo), but I’ll also rate their attire and charm (which are very important to their overall attractiveness). Bear in mind though that how attractive I deem the character doesn’t necessarily place them as the character I am most drawn to....if that makes sense.

With these calculations I have not factored in either the character’s personality or my preference towards the characters in question; this is as superficial as it gets lmao

Kenzo Tenma

Appearance: 10/10, he’s either handsome or cute it’s impossible to lose here. Also sports the second most perfect smile and the kindest eyes.

Attire: 6/10; honestly without Eva he really doesn’t know what to do with himself and the rest of the time he’s on the run so he looks like a hobo. Looks cute as a doctor though so there’s that

Charm: 10/10, his smiles and kind voice are entirely perfect and he can act like a badass when necessary. Got the whole deal here

Total: 26/30; no one said he has to be perfect, he still has my heart

Eva Heinemann

Appearance: 9/10…originally wasn’t too much a fan of the hairstyle but it (and she) grew on me quite strongly. Just look at that face.

Attire: 11/10 like….outshines literally everyone ever. She knows what she’s doing.

Charm: 8/10; not only can she pull off incredible confidence, she’s also able to wear a sweet sort of facade…she knows how to get to different types of people and it works dude

Total: 28/30; a goddess among us

Martin Reest

Appearance: 9/10; mature, lightly grisled, strong jaw, decent features…he has a good ol handsome face if a little overly square.

Attire: 7/10; he had a not too shabby gangster look going even before Eva made him a fashion project. Nothing too dapper though.

Charm: 6/10; honestly kinda has a shite attitude and overall really depressed…if we got to see him with more of a sardonic sense of humour it might be higher, but he’s just too much of a downer.

Total: 22/30; definitely handsome but he needs work

Johan Liebert

Appearance: 8/10; his haircut is fluffy and nice and he has very nice eyes, but he looks kinda porcelain sometimes and idk about that

Attire: 9/10; both as himself and Anna he’s got top notch clothing choices…most of the time, there are some questionable ones.

Charm: I am obligated to say 10/10 just because in series he has the charisma to convince people to do just about anything at all. If I’m allowed to be objective though, I’d say probably 8/10.

Total: 25/30; in-universe incredibly attractive, and I guess objectively I can see it.

Jan Suk

Appearance: 8/10; he’s got that nice clean-cut cop look going and an innocent, naive face. Looks extra cute when he blushes.

Attire: 6/10; nothing that stands out really as especially great or poor.

Charm: 10/10; he’s dorky, shy and awkward and just genuinely a nice boy if a little on the dumb side. All of those together are precious tbh

Total: 24/30; he’s an average cutie and that’s why I love him

Wolfgang Grimmer

Appearance: 7/10; he has sort of a more “average” sort of charm in his looks and ngl his nose is adorable. Let us not forget that award winning smile. The one pictured is perfect.

Attire: 7/10; full on dad fashion right here and his yellow sweater is super cute

Charm: 11/10…listen his smiles cure my depression and I’m a sucker for the ‘trying to be more human and instead accidentally being really awkward’ types of characters and wow is Grimmer exactly that

Total: 25/30; his adorability alone outshines everything else

Heinrich Lunge

Appearance: 7/10, he’s kinda snakey and he has no hair but he can pull off an excellent near-villainous smirk and that’s pretty great.

Attire: 8/10, very simple but the suit and tie thing works for him.

Charm: 8/10…but not really in your conventional ‘charming’ way, more so much as the man just exudes such intense confidence it’s hard not to appreciate it.

Total: 23/30; needs more hair

Nina Fortner

Appearance: 7/10; she has a very charming and haunting look about her…but I will be honest Johan wears her look better LMAO.

Attire: 8/10; nothing that stands out incredibly, but she looks cute enough

Charm: 6/10; a little too distant…she’s perfectly fine as a character, but definitely very reserved and internalizes a lot.

Total: 21/30; pretty cute, but she should smile more!

Otto Heckel

Appearance: 6/10; the ponytail is nice but he’s tiny and there’s the teeth. No offence but bad teeth…not that attractive. He has a devilish smirk though so that makes up for it a bit

Attire: 10/10; he wears nice suits which is good and all but he wears a cravat and that’s like my ultimate fave clothing item so he wins.

Charm: 7/10; he’s just good enough a guy that the slimy crooked nature to him is more charming than bad. I also just adore Casanova wannabe types and that’s exactly what he is

Total: 23/30; a good sense of style makes up for bad teeth

Rudi Gillen

Appearance: 6/10; nothing especially stands out, but he looks respectable. Very average but that’s fine, it works for him.

Attire: 7/10; again there’s nothing that particularly sticks out here, though the tape recorder makes a nice accessory. I did kinda like the getup he had when he went into the basement of that house and found all the photos with Johan cut out…long coats and Gillen work!

Charm: 7/10; while a bit more depressive, he’s interesting to listen to and that scene when he calls out Lunge gives him a decent force of personality. There’s definitely something to find intriguing here.

Total: 20/30; more of an intellectual appeal tbh.

[ernnst]

i can hear the bells ernst has anxiety about talking to hanschen, but he also has an encouraging group of friends (who don't mind their own business) 

a follow-up to @hanschhen‘s fic here! this can also be found here! and yes this is a shameless repost since tumblr decided not to put this in the tags last time!

In five days, it will have been exactly one month since Ernst last spoke to Hanschen.

More specifically, it will have been exactly one month since Hanschen had kissed Ernst while he was over studying at Hanschen’s house, exactly one month since Ernst had confessed his love for Hanschen by shouting in his face like a madman, and exactly one month since Ernst had gathered his things in a flustered state and gone home suddenly, unsure of what to make of the events of the evening.

Ernst went to school the day after and told all his friends, avoiding Hanschen’s gaze from across the cafeteria and for the first time in his life feeling grateful that they didn’t share any classes together, because… well, he didn’t really know. He should have been happy that his friend that he’d had a crush on for the past two years reciprocated his feelings—and he was happy—but now that they had actually started something, Ernst didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt flustered and embarrassed whenever he saw Hanschen in the hall at school, he felt hot when he saw him at church, and when he thought about him—his soft words, his soft lips, and his hand on his waist sneaking lower every second—Ernst was sure he would faint. He was terrified of screwing it all up before they even got anywhere, and therefore the solution was to… avoid Hanschen at all costs for the rest of time? Awesome!

It wasn’t even as though Hanschen hadn’t tried to speak to him; Ernst was just practically structuring his whole day around avoiding the confrontation. After around the second week since they’d kissed (thirteen days after, to be exact), Hanschen stopped trying to get his attention at school, and the most interaction that they’d had with one another was extremely fleeting eye contact as their parents spoke to one another after Sunday morning service.

At this point, he was certain that he had utterly destroyed his chances with Hanschen in a romantic sense as well as completely forfeited their friendship due to his own incomprehensible anxiety surrounding what everything between them meant, and now that the school year was over and he no longer had the excuse of going to Hanschen’s house to study, they were certainly never going to speak again. Great!

“Ernst, are you good?”

Ernst looked up from where he had been staring blankly ahead for who knows how many minutes to see Melchior, who was cleaning up the snacks from their D&D session that had just ended a half hour ago. He looked like he knew the answer and the reason, but he was always surprisingly delicate about these things.

“Oh—yes, I’m fine, thank you. It’s just—”

“Hanschen?”

Okay, he wasn’t that delicate—but he’d also been trying to convince Ernst to just talk to him for the past month, so Ernst guessed that he was probably long past the point of beating around the bush, if he had ever been the type of person to do such a thing to begin with. In any case, Ernst nodded affirmatively, then looked over to the couch where Georg and Otto had been trying to wrestle the TV remote away from Moritz to see that all three of them had stopped to look at him when Melchior mentioned Hanschen.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” Otto asked.

“I—”

“No excuses.” Melchior shook a bag of pretzels at him threateningly before he rolled it closed. “You both like each other, dude; what are you so worried will happen?”

“Something going horribly, horribly wrong? Eternal shame and embarrassment?” Moritz answered for him and used the distraction of the conversation to wiggle free from Georg and Otto’s grips. He stumbled away from the couch as he did, then folded one arm across his chest once he got his footing.

Ernst pointed to Moritz and nodded. He gets it! “See! Moritz knows—”

“But, for the record,” Moritz continued, waving the remote around on each syllable for emphasis, “I don’t think anything will go horribly wrong. I just, uh, know how he feels.”

Georg opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but Ernst timidly held up a hand to stop him as if to say please, give me one second. “It’s too late for me to talk to him, anyways. I waited because I didn’t know what to do, and now it’s been a month and I haven’t said more than five words to him since then, so there’s no way that he doesn’t hate me by now.” He sighed dramatically, covering his face with both hands.

When he peeked through his fingers, he saw Melchior roll his eyes. “Come on, Ernst. You’re forgetting that I’ve actually talked to Hanschen since then. I can’t have one conversation with that dude without him asking about you.”

Really? Ernst didn’t want to show it too much, but that did make him feel a little better. “But...what would I even say to him? And how?”

“Hanschen, I’m in love with you, do you want to make out?” Otto suggested, and Georg and Melchior nodded in endorsement. Moritz cringed, but he didn’t offer any better ideas.

“Ernst, you’re missing a major opportunity here,” Georg cut in finally, making an insistent gesture with his hands as if the next thing he was going to say should be obvious to everyone in the room. When no one finished his thought for him, he rolled his eyes and elaborated, “You’re the only one of us here other than Melchior that actually has a shot at getting laid. I will never forgive you if you don’t follow through with this.”

Ernst cringed and gave him a dubious look. “I don’t think that’s really appropriate…” he mumbled, but blushed at the idea anyway. It wasn’t like he had never considered that; in fact, the past month was an absolute nightmare for Ernst’s active imagination and delicate sensibilities. He wanted to run his fingers through Hanschen’s hair again, taste his lips again—get it together, Ernst! All your friends are here, dummy. You can’t think about Hanschen’s tongue right now, thank you!

“I think...that you should go talk to him right now.” Moritz said suddenly, causing Ernst to jump when he realized that Moritz had sat down beside him on the floor while he was busy thinking about Hanschen.

“Right now?” Ernst reached forward to the coffee table to pick up his phone and check the time. He looked back over to Moritz with raised eyebrows. “It’s nine o’clock!”

Melchior fell back onto the couch in between Georg and Otto, shrugging. “So? I agree with Moritz; his house is only a few doors down—it’d only take you, like, five minutes to talk to him.”

Ernst groaned, wanting to argue but honestly having nothing to say, and knowing that the situation had reached the point that no one was going to drop the subject until he gave in.

“Melchior, are you sure he won’t be mad at me? Positive?”

“One thousand percent. If you don’t go over there right now, I’m going to text him and tell him to come over here.”

Now that idea terrified him more than anything. Ernst loved his friends, but the last thing he wanted was for all of them to be witnesses to whatever confrontation occurred between himself and Hanschen.

“Okay, fine!” He stood up suddenly, driven less by confidence and more by the sight of Melchior slowly drawing his phone from his pocket.

He smoothed out his sweater and took a deep breath. Moritz looked up with him with as much of a reassuring smile as he could manage, while Georg and Otto watched him with raised eyebrows, seemingly surprised that all it took to convince him was a low-stakes threat from Melchior.

Melchior walked over to Ernst and put his hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes with a dead serious expression that made Ernst feel a little intimidated. “It’ll be fine, Ernst.”

He spun him around and walked him up the basement stairs with his hands still on his shoulders, while the other boys followed and shouted out words of encouragement in typical loud teenage boy fashion; most of which were completely inappropriate—but their enthusiasm did make Ernst smile, for what it was worth.

When they reached the front door, Melchior let go of one of Ernst’s shoulders to swing it open, then gave him a little push onto the porch. “I better not see you in the group chat again tonight unless it’s to say everything worked out and you’re spending the night at Hanschen’s house. See ya!”

Ernst turned around just in time to see Melchior give him a thumbs up as he pushed the door closed. He heard the sound of the deadbolt locking on the inside. Oh, so he’s serious.

Despite now being locked out of Melchior’s house and having nowhere else to go except Hanschen’s—which was just at the end of the cul-de-sac—Ernst stood on the porch for a minute or two just looking around as if he would find a way to vanish and go somewhere else if he just thought about it hard enough. After he finally came to terms with the situation he was in, he stepped off the porch. It was a small amount of progress, and he was dragging his feet with each step away from Melchior’s house, but it was progress nonetheless.

His phone buzzed twice as he reached the sidewalk in front of the house, and he pulled it from his pocket.

Melchior!: i’m calling your mom and telling her you’re spending the night at my house so she doesn’t have to come pick you up LMAO godspeed. you are the beast you worship

Moritz!!!: good luck :-)

Ernst turned back to look at the house, and jumped at the sight of all of his friends watching him from the living room window. Moritz, Otto, and Georg were each giving a thumbs up, and Melchior winked at him as he pointed to his phone which was held up to his ear. Ernst responded with a timid little wave, before looking away and walking at an excruciatingly slow pace toward Hanschen’s house.

His excruciatingly slow pace quickly evolved into a power walk, however, as Ernst suddenly came to realize that it was 9 PM and very dark outside. With the fear of being murdered quickening his step, his plan to think about what to say on the way to Hanschen’s door didn’t quite work out, because he ended up on his front porch about thirty seconds before he had originally intended to.

Well, this is it.

The lights were still on inside, so he couldn’t pretend that it was simply too late and walk back to Melchior’s house and proclaim that he tried to no avail—not that he was any good at lying, and not that Melchior would accept that as an answer, anyways. He raised a trembling fist and knocked on the door softly, so quiet that he himself could barely even hear it. He stood in silence for a few seconds while doing deep breathing exercises, then knocked again with a little more effort.

That time, he heard someone approach the door from the inside, and his heart was pounding in his chest. Please, Mr. or Mrs. Rilow! Take pity on me and answer the door so I can embarrass myself in front of your son by telling him I love him again!

But it was neither of them who answered the door. Of course not. It was Hanschen. Ernst was suddenly worried that he might pass out. Or I can just embarrass myself right away for convenience, I guess!

Ernst stared at him for several seconds and then looked down to his feet, sure that he couldn’t bring himself to talk if he was looking directly at Hanschen. When he finally did speak, his voice was meek, hardly above a whisper. “I thought—I didn’t think of what to say. I thought that one of your parents was going to answer the door and that would give me time to think of what to tell you, but I didn’t have anything prepared to tell them for why I came here so late, because it’s summer now and we don’t have to study so—”

“Ernst.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked up again to see Hanschen and that little amused smile of his.

“I’m sorry, Hanschen, I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Hanschen began to reach forward, then hesitated slightly. Eventually, he reached out and took one of Ernst’s hands in his. Without thinking, Ernst squeezed it. “I should be the one to apologize; I thought that I had scared you off.”

“You did!” Ernst cringed at his own words, then shook his head quickly, squeezing Hanschen’s hand a little tighter and taking a half step closer to him. “I mean—you didn’t, but I got scared. I love you, Hanschen, and I have for a long time—I didn’t want to mess everything up. It was just so unexpected and I needed time to think, and then I waited so long that I thought you hated me and I—”

“—love you.”

“What?” Did I hear that right? Ernst’s eyes widened, and he suddenly felt weak in the knees. Hanschen tugged his hand, pulling Ernst against him.

“I love you, Ernst. I didn’t say it before.”

Ernst leaned back slightly to look at him properly. He slipped his hand from Hanschen’s, then moved both of his hands up to either side of Hanschen’s jaw. He stood up a little taller on his toes and kissed him—one that only lasted a second, but a kiss nonetheless. As he withdrew, Hanschen leaned in, prolonging the kiss for just a moment more.

They both stared at one another for several seconds. Ernst thought that at any moment he would wake up at home from another frustrating dream, and it would be four days until it had been a month since the last time he spoke to Hanschen—but no matter how long he stared, the situation didn’t become any less real.

Before Ernst could say anything just to fill the silence, Hanschen put one hand on his waist and drew him in for a more proper kiss, his other hand coming to a stop on the back of Ernst’s neck. Ernst was once again in a position of being extremely aware of his own hands, which were currently pressed flat against Hanschen’s chest—and a thought suddenly occurred to him. A thought other than Oh my God, oh my God, there’s his tongue again, that is.

As casually as he could manage, he moved his left hand up and behind Hanschen’s head, where he ran his fingers through his hair. Hanschen’s grip on Ernst’s waist tightened by a fraction, apparently encouraging him to continue. Ernst, who was usually very prone to backing down from challenges with very little prompting but who was also determined to make up for having left in a flustered rush the last time this happened, felt emboldened by Hanschen’s enthusiasm. He grasped Hanschen’s hair, and gave it an experimental tug.

Hanschen groaned softly. Ernst blushed all the way back to his ears. So he likes—

At that same moment, Mrs. Rilow’s voice called out from inside the house, and Ernst jumped back so quickly that he surely would have fallen off the porch and concussed himself if Hanschen had not placed his hand firmly against his lower back to stop him. “Hansi, who is that at the door?”

Ernst’s face was burning hot. Did she hear…? No, she couldn’t have… could she? ...Wait, did she say Hansi?

Hanschen grinned at him and rolled his eyes as if he could read his mind and knew that he was, as always, overthinking the situation. “It’s Ernst Robel, Mama,” he called back, as casually as if he hadn’t just moaned into Ernst’s mouth fifteen seconds prior.

“Oh, Ernst! Hello, honey—come in! How are you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Rilow. I’m—” he shot a glance to Hanschen as he walked in the door, “I’m really good, actually.”

Hanschen winked at him and laid a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him toward the direction of the stairs, presumably to prevent Ernst from politely staying downstairs and talking to his parents all night.

“Well, that’s good! Goodnight, you two.” Mrs. Rilow responded from the living room.

“Oh—um, goodnight Mrs. Rilow! Thank you for letting me stay!” He called as he climbed the stairs. A second passed, and Ernst looked back over his shoulder at Hanschen with an amused grin, whispering under his breath, “Hansi?”

Hanschen rolled his eyes but smiled anyways, giving Ernst’s shoulder a light shove. Ernst just laughed. For once, he didn’t feel quite so worried about what the future held for him.

A little later, while Hanschen was downstairs to get a drink, Ernst suddenly remembered what Melchior had said about the group chat and fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket.

the power of god and anime [Ernst]: hey guys!! everything worked out :) pope 2: now with pubes [Melchior]: we know lmaoooooo you can see hanschen’s porch from my window the power of god and anime: 😨

[theghostofashton]

“i’ve got you.”

so somehow whenever i have a bad day the words come a lot easier lmao

this was on my request list from one of my friends (read: rachel), she gave me the idea and i made it hurt a lot more than she probably intended which is basically my brand by now oops lmao

mild trigger warnings for panic attacks and self harm

16. "i've got you."

It was stupid.

He knows that much.

It was the craziest, dumbest, pettiest argument. It made everything red and brought the critters up his hands, pressed the stingers against his back and infused everything with a tidal wave of crimson, but it was so fucking stupid.

He said something and Geoff said something else and god he should've never opened his fucking mouth why do you do these things why do you get yourself into these messes why are you so fucking toxic to yourself and then upset about it why do you act like this isn't all your fucking fault why-

It started off small and snowballed, like every retort was a new layer wrapping around the snowball they'd begun to create and in the end Geoff's tower was higher. His hit was harder. It was more powerful, coming from him, a punch in the stomach that sent the air out of its place in his chest and made everything feel like it was falling, like he was gripping onto the cliff with the tips of his fingers and trying to pull himself over a ledge that only seemed to be crumbling beneath him.

Recording ran long and he spent way too much time in the studio and he couldn't fucking get it right why are you such a fuck up why can't you do this one thing this thing you're good at why can't you fucking do it why are you such a fucking screw up- and the track still isn't done and everything is delayed and it all has to be pushed back because of him and it's his fault his fucking fault you're so stupid Geoff didn't do anything wrong why the fuck are you such a brat-

Some days I don't know why I put up with this shit, for fuck's sakes!

It keeps repeating in his head, over and over. He keeps replaying it, closing his eyes and transporting himself back to their apartment where his body shook and his cheeks heated and the strength of the world's anger felt contained in his fists, so much, so heavy, so powerful he couldn't stop it it wouldn't stop why wouldn't it stop-

The words keep playing and he hears them in Geoff's voice every time, hears the venom and the poison and feels everything start to crumble underneath him before Geoff is even done talking, feels the world start to shift and break and fall to pieces and knows he's right there with it.

He remembers the nights, so many of them, floating between dreams and reality, intoxicating himself in the packaged agony, letting the darkest corners of his mind swell up and loom over and come crashing down, again and again until the world was hot and then cold once more and everything felt like it was ending. Until he pressed nose against collarbone and felt tears soak into fabric and cried, I'm sorry I know I'm too much you don't have to be here you don't have to take care of me you can go you don't have to stay I- cried against a body that stiffened and breath that felt warm against his ear, never say that again, sunshine. You're not an obligation. I love you. I want to be with you. Forever.

You're not an obligation.

You're not an obligation.

Maybe he is.

Maybe Geoff's been lying to him all this time and he is and he was looking for just the right moment and today came flittering down and handed itself to him on a silver platter.

Maybe everything he knows is about to be over maybe it's about to stop maybe it's all about to stop maybe he's about to lose the best thing that ever happened to him maybe-

He swallows against the sob and forces it back down, feels it change to nausea on the journey and move heavily into his stomach. He's so sick. Everything is wrong and he's so fucking sick and the world doesn't make sense anymore and he wants to go back in time to two hours ago and come home and just ignore Geoff- why the fuck did you have to be so mean to him it's not his fault you had a bad day it's not-

He had to get out of there. Geoff called after him and a tiny part of him wanted to run and hope and believe the world would work out and he'd have Geoff's open arms to run into, but he's not that lucky. He's never that lucky.

The receptionist knows him all too well by now. He doesn't even bother buzzing up anymore. The man has seen him barefoot and soaked to the bone on some particularly bad nights, run through the lobby with his open laptop in his hands after he's finished demoing out a song he's in love with, visit this building once, twice, possibly three times a day if what he has to say is really that important. He knows him and he knows he'll wait if the timing isn't right.

So he finds himself on the steps, forcing himself to take a new breath every time he climbs one. He's a mess and he knows it but he also knows that trying to understand anything mid-panic attack is futile and he needs to talk he needs to breathe he needs someone he can't do this-

He stops in front of the door and inhales again, takes a lasting breath that feels like water washing over a desert, dampening fields that have been parched far too long. Everything's gonna be okay. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

He lifts a hand to knock on the door and then he stops.

He stops with his hand poised right in front of the wood. Everything freezes. Glaciers are traveling up his hands but his back feels hot. Wet. His shirt is starting to stick to his skin.

He hears it. It sounds musical. It's light and sounds airy and punctuates a soft sentence he can't quite detect. There's another voice and then it's back to hers and she laughs again. It gets louder as they come closer to the door.

He stops.

Because Jawn isn't alone and he doesn't know why he thought he would be, why he assumed that his life would be put on hold because he had a fight with Geoff and is now having a panic attack, why he figured that he'd be there with open arms and warm breaths to fill in the spaces of his panicked ones, a body and a breath and it'll be okay, Aws. Geoff loves you. You're gonna figure this out. Just take some deep breaths with me, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. I'm right here. I'm not leaving you. You've got me, no matter what.

Because Jawn has a girlfriend and a life outside of him because everything shouldn't revolve around him because the world is moving on and people are living their lives and time is passing and no one is gonna be around to deal with his stupid bullshit forever.

Because Geoff is tired of it and Jawn is starting to follow and everything is happening for them it's all falling into place it's all working out the world works out for them but not for him and they're tired of picking up the pieces when it does because he's always like this and he can't stop and they won't be there forever no one will be there forever you need to fucking grow up and stop acting like a child you stupid piece of shit you can't always expect everyone to drop everything when you're having a bad day-

Because his bad days are plenty and the world wasn't ready for that many.

Jawn has a girlfriend. Otto's about to pop the question to his. Geoff wants more. Everyone wants more. The world needs more but he doesn't have anything left to give. Everything is changing and people are moving on and growing up and going somewhere and doing things with their lives and he can't do that he can't breathe he can't imagine that he can't breathe he can't fucking live that he can't breathe-

"Aws, hey, what're you doing here?"

He snaps his head up. It's too fast. It leaves him dizzy. The world is spinning. Everything is blurry and fuzzy and mixing together.

Jawn is standing in front of him and Daphne is at his side. She's wearing a dress and he has on a tie. Their hands are joined. They're staring at him.

It's hot.

Too hot.

"Oh, n-nothing." He forces his voice to remain level. "I was just around and thought I left my j-jacket here yesterday so I was gonna ask." He barely pauses, sees Jawn open his mouth, and rushes to add, "b-but I can come back later!"

"If you want to-"

"It's fine, really," he says. "Y'all are going on a date, right? W-where?"

"Jawn's taking me to The Cheesecake Factory for our 6 month anniversary," Daphne speaks up. She's smiling, looking down to their joined hands and then back up at Jawn, shifting her body closer to his.

It slipped his mind. They've been together for six months and he forgot. His best friend has been with a girl for six months, six of the best, happiest months of their relationship, and he forgot. Because he always forgets. Because he's the problem no one can solve and their resolve with him is waning fast.

Jawn and Daphne leave with smiled goodbyes. He says something to her as they're going down the stairs and she starts laughing again, a sound that floats up to him and wraps around his body, presses itself like poisonous stingers into his skin, bypasses the first couple layers and settles into his blood, feels like icy venom running through everything.

He starts walking.

He doesn't know where or what's going on or if he can even feel his feet moving in front of him – he just knows that they are and his body is propelling itself forward even if his mind isn't as willing to cooperate – but he's walking and going down the stairs and making his way out of the lobby and into the cold night air with glaciers in his hands and stingers pressing into his back and redredred-

Such a burden you're such a burden on Jawn on Geoff on everyone you need to grow the fuck up and stop acting like this grow the fuck up and get out of your head or they'll be gone and you'll still be here with your stupid brain that doesn't work right and everything will be as terrible as it is right now.

Everything will be as terrible as it is right now.

Everything will be as terrible as it is right now.

Everything is terrible and his presence in the world feels merely skeletal.

A lump of flesh that's barely holding onto its sack of bones, barely managing to keep them upright and pull them through life.

He walks until he can't anymore, until he ends up back at his own apartment. Geoff will be home. He'll let him talk. They'll talk. It'll be fixed. They'll talk. He can fix this. They'll talk. It'll all be fine. Everything will be fine.

The door doesn't open.

He forgot his key and the door won't open and he pounds his fists on it and starts to scream; Geoff's name bubbles up his throat and from his lips too many times, the world feels like it's turned to dust, disintegrated and fallen right at his feet, erased any thought of things working out he thought they would work out they won't Geoff left he's gone they can't fix this it's gone it's broken it's done everything's done forever-

He doesn't breathe.

...

"Fucking hell."

He pounds his fist against Jawn's door once more, whirls around to press his back against it and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He navigates through the screens quickly and then holds the device up to his ear.

"Geoff? Can I call you back? Daph and I-"

"Have you heard from Awsten?" His hands are shaking. The world is starting to go fuzzy at its edges. "Recently, in like, the past hour?"

"He came to my place...Geoff, what the hell is going on?" Jawn demands. "You're panicking."

"We had a fight," he chokes out. "We had a fight and I said something awful and he ran and I can't fucking find him. He won't answer his phone. I thought he would've come ta you."

"What the- he said..." Jawn's voice rises as he continues speaking. "He was looking for a jacket, I...oh my god..."

"What?" He bites the word and swallows down a sob. "What else?"

"He needed- fuck," Jawn curses. There's rustling on the other end. Geoff can detect him speaking rapidly to Daphne, hear her reply just as quick, and then more things moving around as Jawn – seemingly – runs out to his car. "He looked kinda off but I didn't really think about it. He was shaking and I think he was crying, I- fuck, how did I not notice?"

"That doesn't matter!" He grips the phone tightly and pushes off the door, moves toward the stairs and takes off in a run. "We havta find him!"

"Go back to your place," Jawn says quickly. "I'll meet you there and then we can figure something out."

"Jawn..."

"We'll find him." Jawn softens his voice. "He'll be okay, I promise."

...

He pulls in right after Geoff does.

Heart racing, he shuts his car off and almost stumbles in his haste to get out of the car. His phone vibrates as he shoves it into his pocket but he doesn't pull it back out to look at the text. He locks the car and barely manages not to trip over his feet as he rushes to meet Geoff in front of the apartment building.

He's shaking.

His eyes are glassy and the skin around them is red. He's biting down hard on his lip and tapping out another message on a screen completely covered in blue text bubbles. Awsten hasn't answered any of them. There are no grey dots to even signify he's seen them and is typing a response.

"It's gonna be okay," he murmurs. It's a lie. He doesn't know that. Awsten could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere and they'd never know. The world isn't kind and the universe doesn't care and this night could potentially be the worst of their entire lives but he can't concentrate on that he can't breathe he needs to believe they'll find him he needs to believe it'll all work out he needs to-

He needs to believe everything will be okay.

"We're gonna go upstairs." He takes both of Geoff's hands and waits until he has his eyes. "We're gonna go upstairs and call Travis and Otto and Zakk and Andrew, and then Gracie and his mom, and one of them'll know something, I promise. He probably just went home or to Travis' to breathe. He's safe. I promise."

You don't know that.

He wraps an arm around Geoff's hunched shoulders and leads him into the building, past the receptionist and toward the stairs, reminds him to breathe and rubs at his back. "It's gonna be okay."

And then he stops.

Geoff stops walking and he bumps into his back.

Everything stops.

It feels fragmented, like someone's smashed a hole in their reality and shattered it to pieces, left some of the shards still dangling, holding on for dear life and trying to cling to an existence where the resistance is futile.

Awsten is crying. Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he curls his body further against the wall. He gasps loudly – they can hear him struggling for air – chokes on a breath and starts coughing, pulling his knees further to his chest and letting out a sob.

Geoff moves first.

He kneels in front of Awsten and reaches for him, tries to wrap his arms around him and speak to him softly. Awsten shakes his head and kicks out, punches at the air and curls further into himself.

"N-no!"

"Aws, hey, you're okay." He hears Geoff say. He watches as Geoff reaches for Awsten's shoulder. Awsten squirms away and buries his face further into his arms.

"G-Go away." Awsten pants out the words and shifts further away from Geoff, closer to the wall and away from his body. Geoff shakes his head and straightens, walks the couple steps back over to him and buries his own head in his hands.

He's having a panic attack but he won't let them do anything about it.

"I don't wanna freak him out more," Geoff whispers. His voice is thick. "I don't- what the fuck do we do?"

"Hang on."

He makes his way over and sits down next to Awsten, leaves a small strip of space between them so their bodies aren't touching, and stays. He stays like that, only watching through his peripheral vision, stays quiet and still and calm, while Awsten gasps and chokes and keeps on crying.

And then, a few moments later, Awsten slides his hand out. It's then that he actually gets a good look at it, sees the dark spots staining the sleeve of the sweatshirt – that's most likely Geoff's – that he's wearing. Dark red.

He swallows and takes Awsten's hand, laces their fingers together and rubs his thumb over the back softly. Awsten doesn't move away, doesn't pull his hand back, keeps his head down. His breaths are starting to even out as Jawn keeps on rubbing. He bites his lip and scoots the tiniest bit closer, makes contact with Awsten's body and presses down on his lip don't pull away don't pull away please don't pull away-

He hears footsteps and then feels warm air hit his face, looks up and watches Geoff crouch down and reach forward to tangle his fingers in Awsten's hair. He trails them back and forth, tousles his hand through while looking down at the red that's starting to color a large part of both hoodie sleeves. Jawn meets his eyes and they exchange a glance, a sigh, a silent not right now.

He doesn't know how long has passed. He doesn't dare move to pull out his phone. Awsten's breathing is slowly starting to calm. His breaths are shorter and Jawn can feel his heart still beating rapidly, but he's starting to relax. Eventually, Awsten rests his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes, still dragging in heavy inhales that he doesn't hold for as long as he probably should.

He looks back at Geoff, and then down at Awsten, and back at Geoff with a nod.

Geoff lifts him. He slides one arm behind his back and the other under the crook of his knees and stands. Jawn stands with him, keeps his hold on Awsten's hand, still rubs his thumb against it in that steady rhythm as they walk into the apartment.

Geoff takes him to the bathroom and sets him down on the floor, slides down with him and wraps his arms around him from behind to pull him onto his lap. He turns away, into the cabinet adjacent to the sink, and pulls a first aid kit from one of the shelves.

Jawn kneels in front of Awsten and Geoff and smiles, watches as Geoff intertwines his fingers with Awsten's and brings their joined hands up to his lips. He reaches for Awsten's free arm and draws the sleeve up, slides his lip in between his teeth and bites down.

The room is silent.

No one says a word. They stare at the still-bleeding scratches on Awsten's skin, the blood that's starting to dry around the new cuts, white marks surrounding everything, the scratches that didn't break skin.

He forces down a swallow and dampens a piece of gauze with antiseptic solution, makes eye contact with Geoff before he moves, and, even still, winces at Awsten's sharp intake of breath when the alcohol reacts. He dabs at the blood while Geoff presses kisses to Awsten's head and murmurs sweet nothings he's close enough to hear.

"I love you so much, sunshine," Geoff whispers. "Everything's gonna be okay. I've got you. You're okay, I promise."

He makes quick work of cleaning both Awsten's arms, disinfecting the wounds and spreading Neosporin over them, and then bandaging them with gauze and medical tape.

There's a pit in his stomach and the sickness won't stop. He doesn't know how he's keeping the little dinner he ate down. Everything feels different now. Everything feels off. Changed. Wrong.

Awsten's never done anything like this before.

...

They get into bed.

He carries Awsten into their bedroom and tucks him underneath the covers, and then slides in after and pulls him back into his arms. Jawn turns off the lights and tugs at his tie, loosens it and unwraps it from his neck, before he climbs onto the other side.

He tightens his arms around Awsten, ducks his head and buries his nose in the back of his neck, breathes in his scent and lets his face warm against the heat of Awsten's skin.

His heart is smashed and everything feels like it's bleeding. He wants to say something but there are no words. Everything feels different. Everything is different.

There are no words.

He lifts his head up to look at Jawn again, watches him stroke his thumbs across Awsten's cheeks, wipe away the remnants of tears and then lean down to press his lips against Awsten's forehead. He presses a kiss to Awsten's hair and curls impossibly closer.

They'll talk about it tomorrow.

[little-smartass]

What part of Margolotta's characterization in Unseen Academials do you disagree with? I'm not entirely happy with it myself, but sometimes I just wonder if I'm maybe being too picky or just... misunderstanding things.

it’s been a while since I last read it so bear with me, but I think my biggest issue was in the difference between her character in that vs how she is in T5E? she just felt very inconsistent. 

thoughts under a cut because they got long

in T5E she is introduced someone who is just as chessmasterly as vetinari, and then she proves it - the whole book she’s pulling the strings, controlling everything that happens, apparently effortlessly and all with a cheerful smile. you’re told she’s a genius, and by the end of the book you believe she is. you can definitely see her as the sort of person the well-established badass vetinari would be in cahoots with.

then in UA, first off, she totally loses her accent for a reason that isn’t explained?? (I mean, it’s established with otto that vampires…do that, but still. it sort of highlighted the rest of the inconsistency) there’s also the fact that when she gets to the palace she’s described as wearing a black dress which is “an audible intoxication” which uh. doesn’t sound very pink cardigans and sensible shoes to me. in fact that sounds pretty fucking sexy so. there’s that. she’s generally a bit grumpy and haughty (compared to the genial easy-going mumsy persona she puts on with vimes) and although by the end of the book she ultimately does get what she wants and set out to achieve, you very definitely get the idea that her chess pieces outmanoeuvred her. obviously no one’s really immune to making slip-ups, but compared to the epic chessmaster of T5E, her plans don’t feel particularly well thought out or twisty? she’s very arrogant and over-confident in a way that yes, is normal for vampires, but definitely makes UA margolotta feel like rather a downgrade compared to T5E margolotta. 

there are some good scenes with her - talking to glenda when she believes she’s the librarian is a gold mine purely for the idea of margo having to keep a straight face when she’s being referred to as “vetinari’s squeeze”, and her rather sad, tired conversation with vetinari about what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders (DAGGERS UP HER SLEEVES!!), and some of nutt’s comments about her (particularly the rather sardonic description of poetry being a means to an end to get a young woman to take all her clothes off) ring true with T5E margo, or at least give her interesting depth. and there are excuses for her rather different behaviour, which I have discussed before here, but still, thinking about how she is in UA does leaving me feeling rather sadly underwhelmed.

entertainingly, raising steam - a book which has characterisation that I have huge, HUGE beef with, but that is another discussion altogether - for the most part seems to really get margolotta down pat? her diplomatic sleepover scene with vetinari felt a little off but besides that, acting like everyone’s helpful but fucking terrifying aunt? dramatic vampire swoop off a balcony? hearing the dwarfs are messing with her shit and she’s like “lmao ve vill see about that” and then later she’s mentioned in a passing comment about how she made the dwarf terrorists get tf off her turf by “making a few examples” and it’s like, there she is, good ol’ scary chessmaster margolotta is back. 

tldr; I have issues with UA margolotta because she feels like a sort of patchy downgrade from how awesome she is in T5E?

[galimau]

“Odd Jobs”

As always, this is all because of @superbadlydrawnallenwalker‘s amazing art series, DGraycember. If you all aren’t amazed by the art so far idk what to tell you my dudes. This is for the Day Three prompt, and I was glad for the chance to go a little lighter... for now. Because I’ve been pretty harsh on poor Red so far lmao 

Summary: Five jobs Red worked around the circus. 

Word Count: 778

super extra no editing we’re still dying like mne

1.  “Hey. Red.” Henry jabbed the bundle of cloth and untamed hair that was the latest addition to their troupe. In addition to being stage-shy and deeply unpleasant company, the boy had a bad habit of vanishing whenever he wasn’t working. This time he’d found Red curled up in the fresh straw for the horse pens, sound asleep.

“What.” Red emerged from the pile with a scowl.

“You’re helping Cook with meal prep,” Henry said it like a favor. In a lot of ways it was: Red had a habit of mistrusting any food he hadn’t seen made or seen someone eat. It probably was why he snitched off people’s plates, but that wasn’t a much better plan for his long term health.

And surely enough, Red perked up.

“Well why didn’t y’just say that?” He hopped around on one foot, shaking straw from his coat, and gave Henry a dirty look.

Henry raised his hands in the global sign of surrender, not bothering to argue. The brat might be scrawny, but he could light fires with that temper.

“Cook’s waiting on you to turn up. I wouldn’t wait.”

Red sneered, and took off across camp without another word.

2. Breanne pressed a smile down behind her lips, watching Red attack his bucket of laundry. At some point, it had shifted from a regular task to a matter of personal honor. She recognized the look in his eye from her own boys, all those years ago.

If he caught her laughing, he’d freeze up for sure, and half the laundry would be left undone.

A splash, and a wave of suds and steaming water sloshed over the rim of his bucket and onto his pants.

“Oh, get fucked,” Red hissed at the water.

Breanne bit down on another laugh.

The bar of soap kept slipping from his good hand, and fishing it out of the water meant the boy had to get half-way to swimming. His left arm, usually barely visible from under the long shirtsleeves he preferred, was visible to his elbow, sleeves rucked up in a useless effort to avoid getting wet.

By now, he might have actually gotten less wet if he’d just climbed into the laundry tub. Certainly gotten wet less often.

3. Mostly, animals didn’t tend to like Red too much. Something about him made them nervous, and unlike with people Red doubted that it was his arm. Who knew, maybe he was cursed like all those people liked to say. He tried not to give it much thought.

It did make cleaning out the animal cages harder.

If it was storming, they couldn’t let them outside for fear of the horses getting spooked or the birds flying away, which made for ansty animals stuck in a small room while Red tried to clean underneath them.

It was nasty, stinking work and the only thing that made it okay was remembering that the animals might be nervous around him, but they were better than any people he’d come across.

And besides- those geese didn’t like anyone at all, so Red couldn’t care all that much if they hissed at him when he got too close.

4. “Where’s that gold tassel? The dancer’s won’t look right if-” The tassel appeared, brandished by Red. Otto snatched it up and turned back to his partner.

“Has anyone seen my, my...” Merriweather snapped her fingers, searching for the word, “my damned baton? I put it down somewhere and it’s vanished.”

“It’s over by the costume trunk,” Red muttered, and hurried off to go fetch it before she could get too angry.

Keeping the performers happy and supplied was a long, thankless job. Most days, he could slip away in the shuffle, cleaning props in an abandoned corner of the camp.

On performance nights, the flood of requests barely let him breathe.

“Someone go check the eave lines before the crowds come in!”

“Where’s the cover for the first ring?”

“If you people don’t stop moving my instruments, I swear I’ll knock your teeth in.”

“I need another ball to balance on.”

“The knife targets haven’t been changed out!”

“Are the horse harnesses polished?”

“Who’s substituting for John in the tumbling act- his ankle is still sore.”

Between the chaos, Red tried to do what he could to be in every part of the camp at once, answering to everyone he could, and to keep clear of rising tempers.

It involved a lot of ducking.

After the first few weeks it wasn’t so bad; he’d learned quick who would only cuff him around the head, and who had meaner aim.

5. “Dinner got delayed. Red, go tell Cosimo.”

Fun fact: this would have been out half an hour ago except I got distracted researching differences in tent guylines