#this is not what i originally intended to post today but like... yeah... yeah.... the minatoverse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaleidoscopecth · 5 months ago

Text

A Flower Bud In Concrete

MDNI

pairing: ashton irwin x hemmings!reader

summary: a surprising reaction to a negative pregnancy test has you and ashton discovering some new kinks

warnings: absolute filth be warned, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, slight oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, hair pulling, choking, mentions of COVID-19

word count: 5.9k

title: more by halsey

a/n: LAWD it’s about damn fucking time i write for ashton. the things i would let him do to me YOU DONT GET IT. anyway this is absolutely the filthiest thing i have ever written and i love it, huge thank you to a special someone for helping me out w this, your filthy brain never ceases to amaze me. anyways, hope you guys enjoy some filthy quarantine (post?) smut with black haired ashton because i loved writing it

also, this was inspired by @souperbloom and their AMAZING ashton blurb “island time” which you NEED to read.

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The word messy didn’t even begin to describe your life. It was almost comical, the way everything had derailed so quickly—like the universe had yanked the rug out from under you, leaving you to scramble in the aftermath.

Your mind spun as you sat in your car, staring at the unopened test on the passenger seat. The small box seemed to glare back at you, taunting you with the weight of fear it carried. Just looking at it made your stomach churn, flashes of a future you didn’t dare let yourself imagine creeping into your thoughts. You shoved them away just as quickly, refusing to let yourself hope for something that felt so far out of reach.

Your phone sat untouched on your lap, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should have been. You hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, but the thought of what you were about to do made you want to retreat into the safety of your car forever. With shaky hands, you picked it up, your fingers hovering over the screen before you numbly dialed the number you dreaded.

Ashton, of course, didn’t take long to answer. He picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful as always. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, the smile in his tone almost palpable. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. You coming over? ‘Cause if so, I should probably clean—”

“You don’t have to clean up anything,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended as you bit down on your bottom lip. You stared at your lap, the words you needed to say catching in your throat. Finally, you forced them out. “I have a test… I’m late. And, uh, I figured I should be with you when I figure out why.”

The other end of the line went silent, the lack of response from Ashton tightening the knot of stress already coiled in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, waiting, the quiet stretching unbearably.

“Does Luke know?” he asked at last, clearing his throat as if trying to sound casual.

You shut your eyes, frustration flaring at the mention of your little brother. “Why the hell would he know if he has no idea about us?”

“Right, right,” Ashton groaned, his tone sheepish. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “Okay, well… I’ll see you soon, alright? You’ll take the test, and we’ll figure it out from there. Just like we always do.”

His voice was so kind, so gentle and reassuring that you could almost cry. “Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper as you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he reassured, the nickname falling off his lips without any hesitation. It sounded almost natural, and it definitely made your stomach tighten. “Everything will be fine.”

You frowned, looking out your window and taking in the relatively sunny day. “Yeah, I guess so,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

Ashton shifted in the other line. “Drive safe.”

The call hung up with a soft click after that, leaving you once again in anxious silence. You threw your head back against the seat, letting out a long, defeated sigh as your hands came up to grip the wheel.

You first met Ashton when he was just a scrawny kid with hair that swooped over his eyes—your little brother’s annoying friend. Despite being only a year older than him, his friendship with Luke made him feel much younger in your eyes.

When your acting career started taking off, you didn’t give Ashton—or anyone else from those days—much thought. At least, not until their cute little YouTube covers got discovered and their band skyrocketed to fame. Thanks to your close relationship with Luke, you began seeing more of his bandmates.

Ashton always lingered a little closer than the others, his nervous energy unmistakable. The rest of the boys treated you like their older sister—occasionally annoying, but familiar and comfortable. It was obvious Ashton’s feelings were different, but you never dwelled on it.

Not when you met Daniel. He was everything you thought you wanted—kind, charming, and effortlessly sweet. You’d been hesitant at first, unsure if your feelings would match his, but he quickly swept you off your feet.

For nearly five years, the two of you were happy together. Everyone in your life adored him—even Jack, who could be overbearing at times, warmed to him easily.

He was everything to you, his smile brighter than the sun itself. Daniel had shown you a new side of life, filling it with warmth and the promise of forever. But promises are fragile things, and eventually, he broke his—leaving you shattered and alone to gather the pieces of your broken heart.

As if that wasn’t enough, the world began to crumble around you. Whispers of a new illness dominated every conversation, and soon enough, isolation became your reality. Alone in your home, with no one for company but your own thoughts, you struggled to hold on. Work had slowed to a crawl, and seeing friends was too risky.

Ashton had always been the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation. His compassion extended to everyone in his orbit, always checking in to make sure they were okay. So when your phone lit up with his call, something inside you broke.

You poured your heart out, tears spilling as he listened to every word of your pain. He let you cry, soothing you with soft words and a patient ear. You felt terrible about it—he’d only been calling to check in out of kindness, not to become a makeshift therapist.

You apologized over and over, feeling guilty for taking up his time, insisting that what you really needed was professional help. But Ashton wouldn’t hear of it. He reassured you, his voice firm yet gentle, that it was no trouble at all. “I’m happy to listen,” he said. And you believed him.

That’s how it started—a strange kind of pen-pal relationship born out of quarantine. It became rare for you not to be on the phone with Ashton. What began as conversations about Daniel and your heartbreak gradually turned into something lighter. You talked about life, movies you’d seen, and the places you’d go when the world opened up again.

One night, during one of your usual calls, Ashton said something that made your breath hitch. His voice, normally so confident, was uncharacteristically shy.

“Yeah, so… basically,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “I only called you. At first, anyway. I was bored out of my mind, sitting in the house with nothing to do. And—I don’t know—I just found myself dialing your number. I’m glad I did.”

That confession had shifted something inside you. Ashton—who had always just been Ashton—suddenly became something else entirely. You started noticing the little things: the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, how a stray black curl would occasionally fall over his face, or the intense focus in his eyes when he drummed.

When restrictions eased, your friendship transitioned from FaceTime calls to in-person hangouts. Being around Ashton felt surprisingly effortless. He had a way of calming your nerves with a joke or a warm smile, and sometimes, you couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.

One night, the two of you got carried away, talking late into the night.

“Shit,” you groaned, glancing at the time on your phone. “It’s so late.”

Ashton just smiled, shifting closer to you on the sofa. His eyes were red from the blunt you’d shared earlier, but they still sparkled with that familiar brightness. “So stay,” he said casually. “I don’t see why you should go.”

The thought of returning to your lonely house made your stomach sink. Staying with Ashton, basking in the warmth of his company, felt like the only right choice. But one thing was clear: if you stayed, if your eyes kept flicking to his lips, you would do something you might regret.

And you told him that.

Maybe it was the weed loosening your tongue, or maybe it was the way Ashton looked so unfairly good in his old muscle tee and shorts, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

To your surprise, Ashton’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “What if I want you to?” he murmured, leaning impossibly closer. His hand lifted to your face, his fingers lightly tracing along your jaw and down your neck. His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race.

So you gave into your innermost desires and kissed him. And he kissed you back.

The next thing you knew, you were a tangle of limbs on the carpet, the crackling fire casting shadows of your moving bodies across the room as muffled moans filled the space.

That’s how it started—how your unconventional relationship began. You’d made it clear from the beginning that you wanted to take things slow, unsure if moving on from Daniel so soon was the right decision. You and Ashton agreed to keep things casual for now, just hooking up and seeing where it led.

Another mutual decision was to keep your arrangement private—especially from Luke. Your little brother had always been harmless, and you weren’t worried he’d be angry about your relationship with Ashton. But you didn’t want to get his hopes up either. Luke would’ve been over the moon if he found out his best friend and his sister were together, so until you both were certain about where this was headed, Luke would remain in the dark.

For a few months, it worked seamlessly. Life had started to regain a semblance of normalcy as the year drew to a close. That was until your period decided to throw you a curveball.

The drive to Ashton’s place was filled with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you pulled up to his house, your hands were clammy from gripping the steering wheel, and the box of pregnancy tests in your lap felt heavier than it should.

You rang the doorbell, clutching the box tightly as if it were a lifeline. Ashton took a few seconds to answer, but when he opened the door, his warm smile melted a fraction of your fear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, pulling you in by the waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His easy affection steadied you, if only for a moment.

“Hey, Ash,” you murmured, your voice barely audible against his lips. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze, searching for any sign of unease or irritation. All you found was concern and affection in his hazel eyes.

Ashton frowned, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone, and he gave you that signature reassuring smile. “Go take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay there, wrapped in the safety of his arms, wishing you could freeze time and keep the weight of reality at bay.

But you couldn’t hide forever. Reluctantly, you pulled back, giving him a weak, trembling smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Y/N,” Ashton replied with a small nod, his voice steady as he let you go.

With your heart pounding, you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You avoided your reflection in the mirror, unwilling to face the physical manifestation of your nerves.

Hands shaking, you unwrapped the first test and let out a deep, uneven sigh. The whole thing felt absurdly humiliating—peeing on a stick to determine the course of your future. In another situation, you might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

But this wasn’t that kind of moment.

You capped the test and placed it on the sink, refusing to look at it as the seconds ticked by and the result formed. There was no use in dwelling on it, or stalling the results, so with a deep breath, you reached out and shakily grabbed the test.

Not pregnant.

The words were blunt and stark, staring back at you with an unrelenting certainty. Yet, a sudden surge of denial hit you. That couldn’t be possible, could it?

You had expected relief to come with those two words, but it didn’t. Instead, tears pricked at your eyes, and you slumped onto the closed toilet seat, unable to tear your gaze away from the test in your trembling hand.

How insane did you have to be to feel sad over a negative pregnancy test? The thought rattled in your mind as a quiet sob escaped your lips.

You had always wanted kids—or at least one. The idea of becoming a mother had been a dream you carried for as long as you could remember. It was a dream that had, in part, torn your relationship with Daniel to shreds. He had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want kids, especially not when you and he had faced a similar predicament.

But you did. You wanted one with everything in you.

Your chest tightened as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to push away the ache clawing at your heart. Maybe it was for the best, you told yourself. After all, you and Ashton hadn’t even defined the status of your relationship. You hadn’t dared to dream of having that kind of conversation, let alone one about kids.

Still, the weight of disappointment was unbearable as you wiped your face and mustered the strength to walk out of the bathroom. Ashton was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nervously biting his nails.

His gaze snapped to you the moment you appeared, his body straightening as he pushed off the wall. He looked tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands fidgeting.

“Well?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly with the anxiety he was trying to mask.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep any trace of emotion out of your voice. “I’m not pregnant,” you said evenly, squaring your shoulders as you met his eyes.

For a moment, Ashton’s expression softened, something flickering across his face that you couldn’t quite place. But then, to your utter surprise, you caught a glimpse of disappointment.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, your protective wall snapping into place.

“Let’s have a kid,” Ashton breathed, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t thought twice. His eyes locked onto yours, wide and earnest, his tone full of sincerity.

You drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. There was no way he could possibly mean it.

“Ashton,” you said incredulously, your tone laced with disbelief, “we just lost our shit thinking I might be pregnant. And besides”—your voice rose slightly as your confusion gave way to frustration—“we’re not even together. Not really.”

Ashton shook his head, closing the distance between you in a few determined strides. His hands cupped your face, his breath warm and slightly uneven. “We are now,” he murmured, an excited gleam lighting up his hazel eyes. “So let’s have a kid. You and me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in stunned disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Who in their right mind would randomly decide to have a baby on a whim—especially with someone they were just casually hooking up with?

But then again, there had never been anything truly casual about you and Ashton. Not the way his touch lingered, how his kisses felt like promises, or how his presence made everything seem softer, lighter, easier. It had always been more than either of you admitted aloud.

His gaze stayed locked on yours, wide and earnest, as if begging you to say yes.

“You were freaking out,” you whispered, though the fight had already left your voice. Deep down, you were searching for any sign that Ashton might back out of this sudden decision, that he might have second thoughts.

Instead, he just shrugged, his lips curving into a soft, hopeful smile. “I was,” he admitted. “But then I started thinking—I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will. And even though this isn’t the most conventional way, I’d love to make something real with you. And that something?” His voice dropped, full of quiet conviction. “It definitely involves a baby.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your brows furrowing as you tried to process his words. Who in their right mind would agree to this?

Apparently, that someone was you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but steady, a spark of excitement rising to the surface and chasing away your fear. “Let’s have a baby.”

Ashton’s face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a triumphant whoop, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you in the air. Laughter bubbled out of you, breathless and giddy, as the weight of uncertainty slipped away, replaced by something far more exhilarating.

“I love you too,” you mumbled breathlessly as Ashton set you down gently. You were still giddy, your mind flashing with images of your possible new future. Your hands came up to Ashton’s shoulders, watching him.

His hands lingered at your waist for a second, his eyes softening even more. His smile was radiant, lighting up the room, and he looked almost boyish. Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you breathed, nervous laughter bubbling up inside you. “We’re really going to do this?”

Ashton laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed, his voice sure and steady. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb briefly brushing over your bottom lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

A faint blush krept up your cheeks, the words lighting a fire inside you that was almost surprising in its intensity. You should have been scared, after all, your life was going to forever be altered, but it was exhilarating.

”What now?” you asked softly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Ashton's hair. The jet-black color suited him far more than you wanted to admit, and the sight of him like this-confident, certain, and utterly yours-sent a thrill down your spine. “Where do we even start?”

Ashton's eyes darkened, his lips curving into a devilish smirk as his gaze locked with yours. “We start by making that baby, of course,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. The playful elation in his tone had shifted, replaced by something deeper, more primal.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, and you swallowed hard, excitement and nerves dancing in your chest.

Ashton didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was demanding and all-consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you flush against him as his lips moved against yours with practiced skill. You melted into his touch, your hands threading into his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him.

Ashton coaxed your lips open with teasing nips and soft bites, his tongue sweeping over yours, tasting you like he couldn't get enough. A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him lift you effortlessly, his grip firm but careful as he carried you through the room.

The world tilted slightly, and before you could process where he was taking you, your back met the cool surface of the kitchen counter. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, smirking as your eyes met his. “The kitchen, Ash? Can't even wait until the bedroom?”

“Too far,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. “Need you now.”

Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Your jaw dropped as you looked down to see your shirt now hanging in shreds, the pieces slipping from your shoulders. “Ashton!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You ripped my shirt!”

He pulled back briefly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “It was mine first,” he said nonchalantly, his mouth returning to your neck to leave a trail of kisses. “You can steal another one later.”

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a sharp gasp when his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch. His hands roamed your body freely, sliding up your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease.

When his calloused hands cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze, a soft groan escaped your lips. Ashton took it as encouragement, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth followed soon after, trailing hot kisses down your chest before capturing your nipple between his lips.

Your head fell back as he gently nipped at it with his teeth, a moan spilling from you.

Meanwhile, his other hand began its slow descent down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “God, you're gonna look so pretty, all full of my cum,” he growled against your skin, tugging the fabric of your shorts down your legs.

Ashton's mouth continued its heated journey down your body, every inch of you humming with anticipation. The thought of him finishing inside you sent a thrill through you that you couldn't deny, and as he kissed along your stomach, pausing at your hip bone, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

When he looked up, his hazel eyes were dark and glassy with lust. His teeth caught the edge of your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp as he began to pull them down, agonizingly slow.

Ashton let your underwear fall to the floor, his hands gentle as he spread your thighs apart. His lips parted slightly as he took in the sight of you, laid out on the kitchen counter, wet and glistening just for him. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, quickly yanking off his sweater and tossing it somewhere in the room without a second thought.

His hands slid up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch sending shivers through your body. He traced a single finger along your folds, biting his lip as he collected your arousal. “You're so pretty for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “Such a pretty pussy.”

When his finger slipped inside you, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and your back arched off the counter instinctively. Heat flooded through you as he added a second finger, curling them just right, finding that spot inside you with practiced precision. A loud moan spilled from your throat, your body trembling under his touch.

His lips found your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, marking you without hesitation. “Since we're telling everyone we're together now,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your skin, “I'm gonna make sure they know. You're mine.”

“I'm yours,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy as his fingers sped up, your legs shaking with the intensity of it all. If he kept this up, you wouldn't last much longer.

Ashton hummed in satisfaction, his lips curving into a smile against your neck.“That's right, baby. You're mine. Gonna fill you up to the brim, put a baby inside you. Isn't that right, pretty?”

You nodded frantically, tugging at his hair for something to ground yourself. His words only spurred you on, the heat in your core building to a fever pitch. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest. But your words died in your throat when you saw Ashton hastily kicking off his jeans.

When he pulled down his black boxers, freeing himself, your eyes widened. You had been with Ashton countless times, but he had never looked so painfully hard. His cock stood thick and ready, the tip an angry shade of red, glistening with his own arousal.

Before you could fully process the sight before you, Ashton's hands were on your hips, pulling you off the counter. He gave you no chance to protest, spinning you around and bending you over the cold surface.

“You're gonna take all of me,” Ashton growled, his voice low and commanding as he lined himself up with you. “And you're gonna love every second of it. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get my cum.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. “I’ll be a good girl,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Ash. I want you to fill me up. Please.”

A smirk played on his lips as his hand slid around your waist and down between your legs, his fingers expertly teasing your clit.

The sensation sent shockwaves through you, making your knees buckle slightly. Your moans grew louder as Ashton ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the teasing driving you to the brink.

“Beg for it, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance, his fingers working you mercilessly. Every nerve in your body was alight, your need for him consuming every thought.

“Please,” you cried, your voice breaking into a small sob. “I need you, Ash. Fill me up, stretch me out, put a baby in me—please, I'm begging you.”

Ashton groaned low in his throat at your words, his control slipping as he finally pushed into you, slow and deliberate. “That's my good girl,” he rasped, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. “And you're gonna take every single bit of me, aren't you?”

The stretch of Ashton finally filling you up was overwhelming, nearly enough to tip you over the edge instantly. You didn't know how you'd gotten so worked up, but as he buried himself to the hilt, the sensation was so intense tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. Ashton's hand trailed up your back, settling around the back of your neck, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

“Yeah? You like being stretched out like this?” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, his hips unmoving as he stayed buried deep. “You're so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. I'm gonna come so hard for you, so deep.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your frustration building as Ashton still refused to move. His free hand roamed down your body, squeezing your hip before pulling back and landing a sharp slap on your ass.

The sting sent a jolt through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ashton groaned low in his throat, the sound deep and guttural. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he muttered, smirking as he delivered another sharp smack to your ass. This time, the moan that escaped you was loud and unrestrained. “So pretty, bent over a counter for me, taking me so well.”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes squeezed shut, every nerve in your body focused on the feeling of Ashton filling you. “You're so warm,” he groaned, his hips shifting just slightly. “I need to hear you. Every gasp, every moan— want it all. If you hold back from me, baby, you'll regret it. Got it?”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine. His earlier promise not to finish inside you if you misbehaved hung heavy in your mind, the thought alone making your chest tighten with desperation. “Fuck me,” you begged, your voice shaky and whiny. “Please, Ash, just move already.”

Ashton let out a low chuckle, dark and taunting. “So needy, aren't you, sweetheart?” he teased, his words dripping with smug amusement. Before you could respond, he pulled out of you slowly, the sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips.

“Don't whine,” he chided, his tone sharp but playful. “You're gonna take what I give you.”

But mercifully, Ashton seemed to decide your torture had gone on long enough. On his next thrust, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you, the sudden force stealing the air from your lungs. A yelp tore from your throat as his hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly.

Ashton set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with every thrust. The lewd sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with your loud, uncontrollable moans. The delicious friction he created with each movement made your legs shake, the intensity overwhelming.

“That's it, good girl,” Ashton purred, his voice dripping with approval. “You take me so well. Can't wait till you're all round and pretty for me,”he murmured, his thrusts growing harder, more deliberate. “All mine. My perfect little cum slut.”

The possessive tone in his voice made your entire body shudder. His hand tugged at your hair again, pulling you upright and flush against his chest. His other hand slid up to knead your breasts, his fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

One hand slowly slid up to your neck, wrapping around it gently before applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. The dizziness only heightened the pleasure coursing through you, amplifying every sensation.

But Ashton didn't hold for long. His hand eased away, and your hearing slowly returned as you gasped for breath. He released your nipple and pushed you back down onto the counter, his voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair again, using it for leverage as he pounded into you harder.

The heat of his movements, his filthy words, and the way he dominated every inch of your body brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, each pull of his hand in your hair sending a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure rippling through you.

“Baby, I'm close—” you choked out, your voice breaking with need.

“Yeah?” Ashton rasped, his hips never losing their relentless rhythm. One hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and teasing it with quick, precise circles. The intensity made your breath hitch, and he leaned in, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You couldn't hold back. Between his unforgiving thrusts, his dirty words, and the way his fingers worked you with expert precision, the pressure inside you finally snapped. A loud cry tore from your throat as you came, your entire body trembling violently with the force of your release.

Ashton's lips brushed your ear as you shook beneath him. “Just like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers never faltering even as your body slowly began to come down from its high.

“Ashton,” you gasped, your legs trembling uncontrollably. “Fill me up, baby. Please— need your cum.”

His breathing was ragged, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “I'm close, baby,” he groaned, his hand slipping away from your clit to grip your hips tightly. His movements grew sloppy, and he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “I'm gonna come so deep inside you. Gonna fill you up, make you mine, put a baby in you.”

It didn't take long before Ashton's rhythm faltered, and he let out a broken whimper of your name. His body shuddered as he spilled into you, the warmth of him flooding your core just as he'd promised. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, each twitch of his cock making you moan softly.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, completely still except for your heaving breaths. The only sound filling the kitchen was the ragged symphony of your labored gasps. Your body felt boneless, leaning heavily against the counter to stay upright.

Ashton pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blades, his warm breath fanning your damp skin and making you shiver. “You’re gonna look so hot as a mum,” he teased with a lazy smirk, slowly pulling out of you.

You whined at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him leaving you aching. Before you could protest, Ashton turned you around and lifted you onto the counter. The cold marble against your bare skin sent a jolt through your body as he gently spread your legs wide.

His eyes glittered as he took in the sight of his release dripping from your core. “Can't let any of this go to waste,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

With deliberate care, he slid a finger along your sensitive clit, making you gasp sharply. Then, without hesitation, he pushed a finger inside, catching the white ribbons threatening to spill out and gently pressing them back into you.

The overstimulation had your legs shaking again, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him work with hooded eyes. Every touch sent sparks shooting through you, and the satisfaction on his face as he ensured none of his release escaped made you ache for him all over again.

Ashton knelt before you, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint before he leaned in, running a slow, deliberate stripe along your core with his tongue. His movements were unhurried, carefully cleaning you up without disturbing the evidence of his release too much. He only lapped up the small traces that had escaped, trailing down your thighs.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back, the soft sound of his lips parting making you shiver. Rising to his full height, he grinned widely, his expression smug and satisfied. You returned his smile with a lazy one of your own, reaching up to tug him down into a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice tender. “And this was... definitely fun.”

Ashton pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his grin morphing into a playful smirk. “I love you,” he began, his tone laced with mischief, “and about that…”

His hand slipped down between his legs, stroking his still semi-hard cock until it stood at full attention once again. Your breath hitched as you watched him, speechless, as he lined himself up with you once more. With an achingly slow push, he slid back inside you, making both of you groan at the sensation.

Your arms gave out beneath you, leaving you fully leaning against the counter. “Gotta make sure it all stays in there,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and strained. His hips rolled gently, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Give me a few, and we'll go again. Maybe even one more time after that.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the movement causing your walls to flutter around him.

Ashton let out a deep groan at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy but teasing. “We can do this as much as you want.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed u nasty freaks. my requests are closed atm but my inbox is open if you wanna chat :)

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hueseok · 5 months ago

Text

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move.

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation.

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did.

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth.

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled.

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of.

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up.

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

#jungkook #bts

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marsbutterfly · 5 months ago

Note

MECHANIC BADDIE HANJI WHO FIXES UP READERS CAR. SHES ALL LIKE I CAN TAKE CARE OF IT DARLING. YOU JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK PRETTY. (IDK SHIT ABOUT CARS) JUST NEED AN ACTS OF SERVICE HANJI

I'll Fix It All

a/n: omg happy new year!! this turned out way longer than I originally intended for it to be. i was hoping to post it before the year turned but i'll also accept the first day of the year lol. enjoy.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her), nb! hanji zoe (they/them), modern au, anxiety, panic attacks, kissing, fluff, comfort. also like, i don't know much about cars or car repair so pls bear with me. tagging: @wizzy21 wc: 2.5k | wattpad! | ao3!

"No, no, no, no, NO!" You cry out as your car slowly begins to lose speed. This isn't the first time this week, nor the second, nor the third. You couldn't even count on one hand the amount of times the engine had been making that weird noise and the light had been blinking at you like a malevolent eye.

But you thought you could put it off, that you could easily ignore it, and that it would fix itself like it had many times before. Maybe you just needed to check the coolant or add some more water to the radiator, except you continuously forgot to do so. And it finally came back to bite you in the ass.

As the smoke comes out of the hood, you grip the steering wheel tightly, a loud grunt escaping your lips as your forehead presses against the horn, the loud noise filling the air all around you. Still, you are lucky enough to be in a somewhat empty area so the least amount of people will be disturbed.

Your first instinct is to panic. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, your face getting warmer as a few tears begin to prickle in your eyes. You let out a shaky exhale, cursing yourself for allowing this situation to happen in the first place. Before you can even begin to cry, you feel your phone vibrating in the cup holder next to you, the caller's name showing up on the screen attached to the dashboard. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ‎‎‎"Sunshine ☼"

With a sniffle, you wipe the tears before they even have the chance to roll down your cheeks and pick up your phone, pressing the green button on the screen as you try your best to sound like you are composed and not entirely freaking out at the moment.

"Hello, my most beloved," you say, trying your best to sound like your playful self. Though it has no sound, you can almost hear the smile dropping off Hanji's face. It was not out of the ordinary for them to quickly pick up on the slightest change in your tone of voice.

"What happened?" They ask without missing a beat, the tone of their voice filled with love and concern, almost as if they were already expecting you to be in some sort of distress. "I was doing the dishes and accidentally broke a glass because I got such a bad feeling that my hand started shaking."

You sniffle but a small giggle exits your chest, the idea that the two of you are so intertwined that they can even sense when you are in some sort of distress, "Yeah, I'm fine… My car just finally gave out on me and I'm in the middle of a random neighborhood because I decided today, out of all days, to take a random shortcut!"

"Send me your location, and I'll get my tools and meet you over there," they say and you can already hear them moving around on the other end of the line. You wish you could protest but, the more you look at your car, the more panic fills your body. So you simply let out a quiet "okay" before hanging up.

Though your hands nervously shake, you can open your text messages and send Hanji a pin of your exact location. It isn't too far from your house, maybe five minutes if you speed up, and that knowledge only adds more fuel to your frustration. "Why now? I could have easily pulled into my driveway before you gave out!" You can't help the angry grunt that leaves your throat as you slam your hand against the steering wheel.

The waiting time seems like an eternity, an eerie feeling in the back of your mind like you are being watched. Your eyes dart to your phone, half convinced that maybe you should just call a toll truck when you see the headlights of Hanji's motorcycle as they speed down the road.

The light from the post shines above them and you can barely distinguish if they are an angel or a real person. As soon as their bike is parked behind your car, you exit the vehicle, running towards their embrace.

Their hair is still messy from having a helmet on and they hold a small toolbox with their left hand, but that does not stop them from hugging you as tightly as they possibly can. Their lips press against your head as the two of you remain like that for a while.

"Shhh, it's ok, my love," you can feel the smile in their voice, a gentleness like nothing you have ever experienced before, "Hanji is here to fix your problems."

"I truly appreciate you coming this fast," you whisper against their chest, "I genuinely thought my car would be able to handle the journey today but… I guess I was wrong."

"Did you have any trouble starting it this morning?" They pull back, their arm still wrapped around your frame. You think for a second, having trouble focusing on anything other than this panicky feeling in your chest.

Slowly, you begin to remember your day: you left work and the car started. You left for lunch and the car started. Clearly, it had started when you left home that morning… Didn't it?

"Oh shit…" You whisper while an embarrassed expression takes over your features. Your eyes shift towards the ground as you pull slightly further away to create a bigger distance between your bodies, too self-conscious to even look at them. "I couldn't get the engine to turn this morning. I had to start it, put it in neutral, and then start it again."

They nod, kissing your forehead once more as they stand in front of the hood of your car. You are still too embarrassed to look but you can hear the moment their toolbox touches the ground and as their hands pop it open. A few seconds go by as they begin tinkering with the metal inside, though your knowledge of cars isn't deep enough for you to fully understand what is going on.

You cross one arm against your chest while the other rests above your hand, your index finger tapping on your cheek while you can't help but take small nibbles on your thumb's nail. The anxiety inside of your chest never dissipates, nor the shame.

The morning had been nothing but a blur. You woke up late for work, forgot to eat or even bring anything to snack on until you had time to go to lunch, spilled water all over your car, and, to top it all off, it was raining in the morning. The engine not starting was just one of the many, many things that had gone wrong. You meant to text Hanji about it so they could meet you during your work hours and fix it but, of course, you forgot to charge your phone the night before.

You close your eyes and exhale, leaning against the car. Before you can get yourself into a frenzy, you hear Hanji's gentle voice pulling you out of the dark spiral you were about to send yourself into, "Okay, good news and bad news."

"Please explain it to me like I'm five," you say, shooting them an exhausted look and it causes them to chuckle quietly. "Bad news first."

"The alternator, or thing that charges your car battery, isn't properly working for some reason. Maybe because it's old, maybe it's faulty, but it for sure will not start working again, like, that thing is dead."

You nod, surprisingly following along with what they are telling you. You realize that all this knowledge comes from the previous times they have come to your aid or maybe from all the times they would check under the hood of your car before you left their house while the two of you still lived in separate households. Regardless, you turn your attention to them once more.

"I checked the fluid and the coolant and everything seems to be full and working ok. I ran some codes and nothing out of the ordinary popped up and lastly, I checked your oil." They say, wiping the grime out of their hands with a bleached towel, their face slightly sweaty, especially around the area where their glasses sit on their nose.

"Fuck… And the good news?" You ask, biting your nails even more, almost to the point of blood. With a gentle and concerned expression, Hanji takes a few steps forward, wrapping their dirty digits around your trembling palms, and only then do you notice just how short your nails have become.

"I can easily fix it. The last one we bought still has a warranty, so I can just change them." They whisper, placing a kiss against your fingers. A sense of despair fills your body again as tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, your lip trembling as you speak in a quiet yet pathetic voice.

"Please, don't leave me alone."

They sigh, running their hand over their messy hair. They look over to the open hood of your car and around the neighborhood, trying to think about what the best choice would be in this situation.

"The store is fifteen minutes away, on my bike, I'll be back in - "

"Please, don't leave me alone!!" You beg desperately, whatever is left of your fingernails now digging into the skin of their biceps, your eyes are wide open as tears stream down. You weren't that upset about the car breaking down, but just the intensity of all the feelings you had been holding back finally caught up to you the moment you realized you would have to be without them for even a second.

Hanji is taken aback by how sudden your response is, and how desolate you sound. They can see the anxiety written all over your features and it causes their heart to ache in their chest. That's the moment in which they realize just how many feelings you have been bottling, just how bad your week has been, and just how you have refused to talk to them about it.

Almost like they gain consciousness, their arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer to their body. In exchange, you bury your head on their chest, not carrying that their shirt is now covered in grime and sweat, even if it is chilly outside. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" They whisper, their lips pressed against the top of your head.

You want to shake your head, to put your walls up once more and brush it off as "just a bad day", but it was more than that. It had been a bad week, a bad month, and you had gone through it all by yourself, in silence. Crying in the shower but still putting on a smile when around them, your appetite barely exists but you still eat all of their cooking. But before you can deny anything, the tears begin pouring down your face once more, you cling to them like they are the last life vest on a sinking ship.

“I d-don’t know what is going on with me…” You gasp, hiding your face in a mixture of shame and search for comfort. “I just… I just want to be close to you at all times, I just never want to be alone and I just… Everything is too much and not enough, everything is going wrong. I…”

“My love,” they whisper, holding you slightly tighter with one arm. With their free hand, they prop up your chin, a gentle and warm smile taking over their lips once your eyes meet. “You don’t have to suffer alone, ok? I am here for you, no matter what, when, or where. I will always be by your side.”

“Good and bad?” You sniffle and they chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes as they lean down so their forehead is touching yours. They nod.

“Good and bad, my angel…” They whisper, their eyes closing as your noses brush together. You lean closer, your lips brushing against theirs so lightly that it nearly feels like a paint-filled brush against a canvas, working its way through a halfway-painted masterpiece.

Hanji gently presses your body against the car door, their grip on your waist is tight as they make sure to keep you safely in place. Your lips are half-open, temptingly wet in the dim light of the street pole, your face is stained with silent tears and the only thought going through their head? “I really need to kiss her.”

And so they do. They lean forward ever so slightly until there is no more room between the two of you. When your lips collide, you can’t help the quiet gasp that exists in your body, your hand gently resting on their cheek while your thumb brushes against the softness of their skin.

You get lost in the warmth of their body, in how comforting it feels to have them pressed against you like this. Your nose brushes against theirs as your head tilts slightly to the side, the faint smell of coffee and menthol cigarettes still lingering on their breath as it mixes with the scent of the gum you had in your mouth earlier.

They nibble on your tongue gently, sometimes brushing the tip of their own against it and it’s enough to cause you to nearly melt in their arms. If it wasn’t for their strong arms holding you in place, you would have fallen to the ground into a puddle underneath their feet.

Neither of you wants to pull away, but the need to breathe is becoming stronger by the second. When you separate, your forehead rests against theirs, and your eyes remain closed as you enjoy the smell of their skin. Even if it isn’t a pleasant smell, it brings you too much comfort in this moment for you to care.

“I’ll call Moblit and he can come to help, ok?” They whisper, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You nod, lacing your fingers with the ones on their left hand while they pull their phone out of their pocket with the other. "I'll send him to the store and I will stay with you. You won't be alone, I promise."

As they speak to the man on the other end of the line, you can’t help but allow a small smile to form on your lips as you think about how lucky you are to have someone like them in your life. Someone willing to stop everything at the drop of a hat to come to rescue you when you need them most.

As they blow you a kiss, you find yourself thinking about that one specific sentence once more, realizing that no truer words had ever been spoken:

“Hanji is here to fix all your problems.”

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chronicdelusionistsart · 2 months ago

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No, he is not a Completely Different Character from when he was in high school - The Continuity of Bernard Dowd

SO I often see the argument that Bernard my man has changed into a completely different guy since high school. Me too, bestie. And much like Bernard, if you had met me in high school, you probably would have wanted to throw me into a lake.

People grow and change from high school to young adulthood, of course, but the nature of this criticism tends to be the idea that there's no continuity - that Bernard was completely retconned and there's very little to nothing recognizable of his personality and characterhood at the time. The common argument I see is that there's no way to reconcile the differences, even taking into account that people naturally age out of being obnoxious teens.

This just isn't the case. I got into it a little at the tail end of my previous post about Bernard and the art of Recontextualization, but it's really astounding just how much effort seems to have been put into respecting the continuity of the character. I'm gonna go through the 1993 Robin run and go character trait by character trait and see how these scenes read as foundational information for the continuity of the Bernard we have today.

Yeah you heard me. It's basically a fucking listicle. come at me

(SPOILERS for Tim Drake: Robin, Urban Legends, and the 1993 Robin run under the cut!)

1) "They just randomly made him gay" - yeah but it was really funny and based did you ever think of that

I already posted this one last time but let's take a minute to really sit with this one because it's soooooooo

It's absolutely undeniable that the original author of the Robin run almost certainly intended Bernard to be a pointedly heterosexual teenage boy. No arguments there. I actually think based on my experience living in that era and being bi that if you'd suggested the idea of an explicitly deeply closeted best friend for Tim Drake in the early 2000s at DC they would have laughed in your face and then possibly fired you and/or called you a slur or something. There are probably standout queer comics from the time, but mainstream Batman? We're making this for boys that want to ogle Steph's tits, I say, grinding up a rock into dust in my bare hand as I look over this storyline again for panels

My point here is that a lot of comics at the time come off as overly exaggerated about how cool and manly and heteronormative their guy characters are, which is of course also the ultimate refuge of the closeted gay guy. If they'd been normal about it it wouldn't have been so easy to read closeting into it, but as it is...

Yeah this is believable from a teenager but becomes a zillion times funnier as just covering a panic attack over going over to meet the cute boy's paren- wait why does he have elf ears. Why does he look 40 five panels ago

the two genders etc etc.

ANYWAY this was obviously a purposeful choice when rehauling the character. We're going to see a pattern of using things from the 2000s that were baffling or weird in retrospect and expanding on them to bring some consistency and intrigue to his character. "Now Pika," I hear you saying, having divined my nickname from some other source, "you're showing panels out of context to create a false narrative. Five panels ago when Bernard was 40 he was notably accused of staring at Tim's stepmom ALL DINNER. That sounds just, just SLIGHTLY heterosexual and there's really no other explanation f

2) He was always smarter than he looked actually

ah.

I said before that a lot of Bernard is hidden behind layers.

While he appears to be a dumbass in the 2000s, he manages to notice something is Wrong with Tim. Like, consistently. A lot of what we see on panel is Bernard questioning Tim and probing into his personal life - he notices something is unusual about Tim on literally their first meeting, and no shit, Bernard is only in a grand total of five scenes with Tim in the entire run and he spends four of them asking inconvenient personal questions at Tim.

"Tim, is your dad secretly an asshole? Blink twice for yes" "How about we stop talking for a little while"

Obviously in the context of the 2000s this is just like forced drama. But there's a sort of elegance in how seamless it is to look back at this with the context that he's been someone who downplays his own intelligence the whole time. Like "actually, he tends to hit on or adjacent to the truth a LOT, doesn't he?" Even without the new stuff, it's a pertinent observation.

3) "I like Robin a normal amount" - guy who pirates modded Robin games

This feels free. Is this free? I feel like this is free. I don't need to explain this one. Celebrity crushes on Superheroes are literally always funny

See Mario dies every time and it's like not the same guy. There's actually 3 Marios and then every time you make a certain amount of money (points) they get enough to clone a new one. Wait Tim come back I hadn't gotten to the shadow Koopa government. Bowser isn't actually in charge it's Big Goomba -

4) Alienation and the sincere desire to seek meaning in this life

The cult thing might seem to come out of nowhere if you were focused on his goofy persona and the specifics of Bernard's hilarious theories, but it's interesting to me that we get told that Bernard doesn't feel like he fits in like literally right away. One of his very first panels:

yeah okay i sure buy that dude

Bernard is textually, before adding any of the new stuff into the mix, an outsider. He has weird conspiracy theories, he's initially dressed like a douche who's trying to impress everyone and actually impressing no one, and he's obviously putting on airs here.

A lot of people who are depressed are just... you'd never know. Sincerely, the person you know who laughs the loudest and surrounds themselves with the most people might be the most depressed, the most isolated.

In the future, we see that he's similarly got a lot of people that know him, but not a lot of people that know him.

Having him get caught up in a cult after this setup is a very logical progression. He was already the type of personality to turn to conspiracies to feel some degree of fulfillment as a teen. Why the fuck wouldn't he become a Gotham cult statistic. Cults love intelligent people who are susceptible to isolation and emotionally not in a good place.

There's actually a really clever set of panels in the Urban legends run where Tim and Bernard are fighting against the chaos cult and they're mirrored. And Tim is the one "speaking", but the way the comic is framed, you can tell that they were both kind of having the same struggle from different angles and it doesn't snap into place until they fight together.

God, I love the medium of comics. I didn't actually notice this until I was writing this up and staring at panels. This is so subtle, but when you stop to look, the visual language clicks. They're both searching for something. The same thing. But it's not explicit. You gotta be paying close attention.

I think part of the reason people accuse Bernard of being bland or too different from before or whatever is that so much of this requires you to read. No, come back, hold on -

Like, the fundamental writing sleight of hand on this guy is that they earnestly set up the premise that he's so convincing that he managed to fool Tim, and by extension the distracted reader. To this end, Fitzmarten, and I can't believe I'm saying this, successfully weaponized the shittiness of early 2000s writing.

The idea that they went with is that sometimes you think you know people, but you don't have the full story until you really look and actively put the pieces together. He's someone, that very real kind of person, that flies under the radar both in and out of the fiction. And when the whammy hits -

- you end up wondering if you ever knew them at all.

This is very real. I mentioned earlier that you might not know someone is depressed until you know them very, very well or they tell you. And it's true. Be on the lookout for people like Bernard in your own life - from personal experience, they could use someone on their side.

Bonus: No he was legit always that insane. I think this is some A to B shit

"well if my friend won't hire me as a super-manager maybe I'll just prepare for the next time I see a superhero by learning martial arts!" - extremely normal thing to do thank you bernard. that's all folks

#bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #tim drake x bernard dowd #robin 1993 #batman urban legends #tim drake: robin #writing analysis #batman

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jollyhunter · 2 months ago

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"Love me the way you need me" - Part 1.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ COUPLE BadWolf!Dean x SweetVixen!Reader 🍓🥃 -> MASTERLIST [Special Forces AU, SquadLeader!Dean]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WARNINGS Age gap, vulnerable!Dean, angsty!Dean, mention of blood, cuddly fluff, angst.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Dean returns home from a mission - a simple hunt, supposedly, until everything had gone to Hell real fast. As it often did. But this time he's shaken up more than you've ever witnessed him before.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 2,7k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J/ NOTE This is the first part of two THREE, starting off with fluff and angst. (I had originally intended to post them as a one shot, but separating them feels better to me since this one's pretty laden with angst and it didn't feel right to cut right to the spicy part after that lol.) Hope y'all enjoy it <3

-> Next: Part 2. -> Part 3.

The sound of boots clonking up the stairs echoes through the tranquil apartment complex. It’s early. Maybe 4, maybe 5 am. Dean couldn’t tell when he passed by another pair of identical doors on his way up.

His mind didn’t pay any attention to the names neatly placed next to every entrance. He genuinely couldn’t care less about all the John Smiths and Jane Does - the only thing that matters to him is the nameplate he’d always return to.

The one that reads your name right before ‘& Dean Winchester’.

Grunts and groans stir the serene atmosphere.

Dean came stumbling through the front door and into the corridor of your apartment. His feet shuffled underneath his swaying body, heavy from the effort to not keel over.

The moment he'd entered your home, everything smelled like you. Like his. Like the life you two have carefully built – built to last.

His stomach suddenly twists. The reminder that he had been no more than a hair's breadth away from getting sent to kingdoms come today – less than a goddamn blink of an eye from losing this all – hit him again.

He drags a heavy hand down his face, stopping it mid-way to rub the spot between his eyebrows and a cut on his nose which had dried by now. He tries his best to pull his attention away from the scene replaying in his very own 4D private mind-cinema. A groan drops off his busted lips. His head’s pounding from an impending headache. How does one turn this damn flick off?

Dean takes a step and – trips up. His shoulder bumps into the wall, but he manages to catch himself thanks to his quick reflexes in spite of being through the wringer. The wood and glass shudders next to him – his eyes snap sideways and his arm darts up to steady it.

For a moment, he allows his heavy eyes to settle on the frame that held one of your most recent memories;

In front of a summer field he’s leaned against the hood of Baby, you perched on his shoulders. Arms outstretched like some goofy kid. Beaming. Above it is your handwriting, in arched font, reading ‘Mama, Papa + Baby’.

A pun - you weren’t pregnant. Of course. But whenever he'd walk past the picture, he likes to let his dreams wander for a foolish moment and imagine what it might be like if you did start a family.

His index brushes along the frame before his hand drops down to his side with a heavy sigh. Damnit. Now there's a small stain of blood from his tainted fingerpad.

At least he didn’t send it to the ground. His presence was already enough of a crack in this perfect apple pie life.

He thinks for a moment, his eyes trailing off the wall and along the cutesy decorated corridor.

Picturesque. Yeah. That's how he'd call the home you two shared.

Your word, not his. He just picked it up over the months.

If it was up to him, he’d just describe it as the perfect apple pie life. Minus the white picket fence. You both could have one of those ridiculous fences, but for some reason you had been very adamant about staying in your apartment and him moving in with you.

For now, he’d call your apartment his new home. But he’d get you a house one day or another. He wanted that damn white picket fence, alright? It just comes with the apple pie life package.

Dean shuffles further inside, silently shutting the door behind him. Locking it. Once. Twice. The security chain clicked.

He turns to face the light at the end of the corridor. "Sweetheart?" His voice sounds hoarse. After a moment of silence he calls your name, this time with underlying worry evident.

Wait – it's like 5-friggin-am – why would you be up at this ungodly hour? He scolds himself mentally. After a beat, his shoulders slump.

Why did he suddenly feel so... lost.

Whenever he came home, he always felt like stepping into one of those ridiculously perfect and 'aesthetical' (whatever the hell that meant) pinterest pictures you’d show him.

If it wasn’t for you, he’d feel utterly out of place.

There’s a ridiculously stark contrast between his broad, rugged figure and the way he's surrounded by nothing but objects and furniture he was sure he’d find in pinterest’s ‘cozy’ section.

The morning sun peers past the gaps between the curtains, their golden rays flooding the living room, at the end of the hallway. The soft light doesn’t dare to enter the corridor he’s in, though, leaving him in the dark.

He looks down at his beat up form. Probably for the best he can’t see the entire extent of it.

He kicks off his worn out black boots and pulls off his socks. A sharp exhale leaves his battered nose as his feet sink into the soft carpet that looked like a poodle flattened by a truck.

You’d fought him tooth and nail when you clutched the damn thing under your arm on one of your rare shopping trips. “Dean! Warm homes need a warm welcome!” You had explained to him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “And I want you to feel warm and fuzzy the moment you return home.” What could he say? He couldn’t argue with that. Thank God he didn’t.

His aching feet felt like stepping onto clouds – in fact they felt numb, now that they were freed from his boots and planted into the familiar soft underground for the first time for what felt like weeks. But it's the good kind of numb.

His eyes note the faint red stain forming on the curly fur that tingles his toes.

Huh, now it looks even more like a steamrolled poodle.

He begins to undo the straps of his tactical suit, his movements sluggish no matter where his limbs go. Then he slips out of his vest, discarding the heavy gear on the floor of the entrance.

He’d police up his crap later. For now he just wanted to strip himself of this damn job.

Next, his coarse fingers start to fumble with the zipper of his jacket. It takes him a moment to unzip the damn thing with the fabric still sticking to his sweat-soaked skin. With a heavy breath, he leans against the wall, shedding the tactical gear off his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and continues to strip himself of the rest of his suit, layer after layer. The black fabric pools at his feet, along damp clothings, leaving him in just his boxers and a white shirt.

He combs his fingers through his matted hair, ruffling it and ridding himself of some leftover dirt from when he’d been dragged across a gravel path. Multiple times, actually. But he’d keep that information to himself. A hiss comes through his gritted teeth when his hand accidentally rubs over a bump.

Yeah. He was sure he looked bad enough without the additional details.

His worn-out body pushes through the pain of his aching muscles with every shaky step. The familiar smell of your favourite tea hangs in the air when he rounds the corner to the living room.

His eyes dart around the four walls in search for his safe haven. Like a ship in distress. Heart swelling when he spots a curled up form on the leather couch across the room, illuminated by stray rays. The mug's sat on the coffee table, next to it a favourite book of yours, open and turned over like you'd just placed it down a second ago.

Did you wait for him last night and fell asleep on the couch?

When he pads over to you, he can't help but smile softly at the way you had nestled up like a kitten. Cozy blanket wrapped around you like a tortilla with only your face sticking out. Eyes shut closed, breaths slow and expression peaceful. Face dipped in a warm colour by a streak of light from the window next to him.

For a moment he just stands next to the couch, watching your soft puffs of breaths play with some stray hairs of yours. He then crouches down next to you, careful to not wake you. The yellow sprinkles across the emerald glades of his eyes turn them whiskey coloured in the golden morning light.

"Hey, love." He murmurs under his breath, the sound of it almost reverend. His hand moves to brush back a stray hair behind your ear, but he stills mid-air.

His fingers shake. His jaw clenches as his focus shifts to his knuckles. Battered, still bloody. Worst was, he couldn't even tell whether it was his own or of one of the damn things that tried - and failed - to kill him.

A soft noise leaves your parted lips and thankfully draws Dean's attention back to you.

God, you're so peaceful. Is this what peace looks like?

His hand drops down to his thigh. He'll never know.

Drained of energy, he pushes himself to his feet and carefully crawls over your body where he collapses down next to you.

You feel a heavy blanket envelop you from behind. A content hum and you shift in your sleep, instinctively nestling into the warmth. Soon the blanket begins to tickle the side of your neck with tingling bristles brushing your soft skin. Then a warm waft of air licks at your cheeks, enough to make your face scrunch up.

Wait – why does your blanket smell like sweat and musk?

It takes you a moment to register the familiar scent, and just when your eyes flutter open, you feel a deep chuckle rumble against your back.

“Dean..?” You mumble, your mind still catching up with your words.

“Yeah,” He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your soothing scent before he continues in a raucous voice, “’s me, sweetheart. I’m back.”

You hum, your lips melted into an affectionate smile, “I missed you.” And you attempt to turn in his arms to face him properly but he stops you before you get to roll over, his arms tightly locked around your chest and his forehead pushed into the back of your head.

He doesn’t say anything, just holds you tight with your back pressed into his chest. You feel how his heartbeat thuds in a steady rhythm and smell the hint of smoke that still sticks to his skin.

Hm, a simple salt and burn job, you conclude.

Oh if only it had been just that.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs your name into your hair, the sound of it gravel and low. Exhausted. Relieved.

The tone of his voice has you perk up. Your sleep-addled mind instantly kicks into action and you manage to angle your head enough to get a glance at his face despite his protests.

Your breath hitches at the sight.

That was not a simple salt and burn.

Dean winces at the way your eyes widen in shock.

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you. The words raspy when they tumbled off his split lip.

You wanted to believe him, you truly did.

But it was hard to believe that he wasn’t just trying to ease your worries when all you could see was streaks of crimson framing his tired eyes. Between them, dark sprinkles mixed with his freckles. The cut across the bridge of his nose had crusted, so has the blood that covered parts of his left cheekbone and temple which ended somewhere in his stubbles. Clearly, a reminder of whatever had almost slashed his face. Almost. Your stomach twists at the thought.

“...Dean, you-”

“Hey, hey, I said I’m fine, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

No joke. No cocky smirk. No chuckle that turns into a cough halfway.

Panic begins to rise inside your chest.

“We gotta clean you up, I’ll get the emergency kit-” You twist and turn in his arms but when you realize he’s still not easing up, you suddenly understand Dean’s not holding but clinging to you. That’s also when you notice his hands are shaking. The same moment his fingers quickly bury themselves in the fabric of your pyjama, making you question whether you’d just imagined it.

“Baby, c’mon, listen - hey –” he husks out your name, his hands now all of a sudden steady and firm as they catch yours to intertwine your fingers with his. “Just- just believe me for a sec, okay?”

You still. Your eyes search his, then trail off to his injuries again, taking note of the exhaustion that’s carved into each of his features.

You nod. Although on the inside you shake your head violently.

Dean’s jaw tenses under your intense gaze. Every muscle in his face is fighting to keep it together. He manages to pull a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you're both aware of it. Damnit.

His eyes dart to the ground.

It’s right about now, he wished he’d been more careful to not wake you. Should have resisted the urge to feel close to you. Shouldn’t give in to the pathetic need to just hide in the safety of your innocent presence.

Dean startles when your hand suddenly comes to his face, cupping it and gently stroking below the bruised cheekbone. His eyes snap up to meet yours again, where he can see the worry still stinging your eyes. And it’s too much.

His eyes flutter closed and he drops his forehead to your shoulder, making you startle in his embrace.

You both stay silent for a while. Your hand went back to interlace your fingers, thumb caressing the coarse skin of is tainted knuckles. The only sound that's filling your ears being his ragged breaths right next to you. Worry begins to gnaw at you.

But then thankfully Dean moves a few inches before he mumbles into your shoulder, muffled slightly by it.

“Can we just stay this way..?”

Your heart drops. But you catch it again, for his sake.

“Of course, baby,” you whisper, lips pressed to his hair with a tense smile. And even though you wanted nothing more than him to look at you, you were grateful he couldn’t see your expression right now, because every fibre inside you screamed at you to get up and tend to his wounds before they��d get infected or –

“Just… Need to feel you… please.” he interrupts your thoughts with his husky admission.

Your heart clenches at the sound of his voice. His words. The tiny ‘please’, barely audible.

Fingers still intertwined with his, you give him a gentle squeeze before you tilt your head to nuzzle it against his, careful not to irritate any of his injuries.

“You promise, you’ll let me fix you up first thing before I make us breakfast in the morning?”

“Hm,” he grunts weakly into the crook of your neck.

“That’s my good boy.” You praise him, trying your best to lighten the mood.

And if the circumstances would have been any different, you were convinced this would have earned yourself a moan of his. At least it managed to draw a short sound out of his throat that didn’t make you wince inwardly.

You lower your head to place a gentle kiss onto his forehead, your voice dropped to a soothing murmur as you continue, “I’m here, Dean… I’ve got you…‘M not going anywhere, promise.”

With his head buried in the safety of your neck, he pulls you further into his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if he was a drowning man, clinging onto the only piece of wood in the entire ocean.

It makes breathing harder on your end. But you don’t protest, realizing this is what he needs now.

You’re his lifeline.

You feel his lips move against the skin of your exposed shoulder again.

And even though you can barely make out anything he’s mumbling, you just manage to catch the sound of a broken ‘thanks’ right before he goes silent for the next hours.

“The Bad Wolf & The Sweet Vixen”

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hiramaris · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 8

Chapter Summary:

Yeah, she might die a happy woman right here, but if Yoba were kind enough, she hoped she'd live long enough to see those smiles.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: none

Notes: I know, I know it's late again. I'm really sorry, my loves. It's just that life hasn't been giving me a break already. Hope you enjoy this one! I know I've been taking my sweet time to this fic at a very slow pace but I just really want to take my time to lay out our characters, especially my wife. I hope you weren't bothered with it but I promise you, all this waiting will be worth it ;)

Spring 8

It was a warm, sunny Tuesday afternoon. Being spring, the afternoon sun did nothing to burn her skin, and the post-winter air combined with the fresh spring breeze provided a wonderful cooling effect on her exposed skin that wasn't covered by her blue tank top.

It was really a great idea to wear her hair up today, allowing her to fully enjoy the refreshing air.

Although there wasn't anything particularly picturesque about hanging out at the playground, it offered Haley a rare moment of solitude away from the crowd.

In her high school days, she would have basked in the attention people gave her.

Back then, being in the spotlight was exhilarating. However, after her peak during college, she found that she didn't like it as much. For one, popularity didn't help her grades, and secondly, being an 'It' girl didn't matter anymore—not when everyone was scrambling to pass their exams.

But now, here in Pelican Town, being popular just meant being in the center of gossip. The less attention she got, the better.

She preferred these quiet moments, where she could be herself without the prying eyes and whispers. The playground, with its empty swings and silent slides, provided the perfect escape from the pressures of scrutinizing gaze from townspeople who were no better than her either.

"Uh, Haley?"

Haley froze at the sound of a familiar voice, the smell of flowers and dirt filling her nostrils. She turned slowly, her heart skipping a beat.

"Oh..." she said, startled. "Hi, there..."

She wasn't expecting to see you so soon after that whole ordeal (Chapter 3, Spring 7). She might have invited you for breakfast out of goodwill and to make up for her rude behavior, but she kind of half-expected you to chicken out and possibly (hopefully) have the presence of mind to avoid her or something because, for the love of Yoba, your presence is becoming too much for her.

You’re like a pebble suddenly thrown into a pond, causing ripples in what was once stagnant. Haley couldn't quite figure out why you had such an effect on her.

You were speaking, talking about what seemed to be a hair tie but Haley's mind was buzzing elsewhere to actually understand you.

Her eyes briefly scanned you. You wore your typical green overalls, and even with a bit of dirt and grass clinging to your clothes, you still managed to look pretty good. The earthy tones seemed to suit you, giving you a rugged, outdoorsy vibe that was oddly attractive.

Surprisingly, your scent wasn't as pungent as Haley expected it to be. In fact, there was a hint of something pleasant mixed in with the earthy aroma, perhaps a subtle whiff of fresh hay or a trace of wildflowers. She couldn't really tell.

Her attention drifted almost inadvertently to your mouth. Slightly chapped, but full pink lips. Wait, what?

Eyes widening by a slight fraction, she immediately darted her eyes elsewhere, making her spot a hair tie and a handful of daffodils in your hand.

Then her eyes spotted Demetrius walking from where you both stood. Haley's mind quickly realized that you were planning to give her another gift this week, and while there's nothing wrong with daffodils (she likes them), you only give them to her when no one is around.

But now, in the presence of Demetrius, who will probably tell Robin, who will likely tell all her Yoga club members, who will surely tell the whole town that you have given her flowers!

While it shouldn't be a big deal, she has lived in this valley long enough that the rumor mill tends to exaggerate things. And Haley doesn't want to get caught in the middle of this.

As you continued speaking, she made a split-second decision to interject, surprising even herself.

"Uhm, how do I say this..." she began, her voice wavering slightly. "I appreciate your gifts and such. But please don't get the wrong ideas. It's not like a little flower will make us besties or anything, you know."

Her pretty mouth is probably the foulest thing ever created, but she couldn't really stop herself from saying the awful things in this world even if her life depended on it. It was as if her mouth had a mind of its own, blurting out things she'd later regret.

Fortunately, you didn't appear offended; rather, you seemed both confused and amused by Haley's abrupt interruption.

"Uhm, I was just asking if this is your hair tie," you said as you handed her the item.

"Oh!" Haley's voice held a note of embarrassment as she accepted the tie from your outstretched hand, her cheeks likely flushed with a deep shade of pink. "I didn't even notice it was missing..."

Your lips quirked up slightly at the sight of her flustered state. "You were saying..?"

Haley was certain you were teasing her, and she would have half a mind to wipe the adorable smirk off your face if she weren't so embarrassed herself.

"Sorry for jumping to conclusions. I was just..." She fidgeted uncomfortably, unable to find the right words. "Well, nevermind."

"Hey, you weren't even wrong. These are actually for you." You presented her with the daffodils before Haley could respond. "And I'm not expecting you to be friends with me just because I give you flowers, you know?"

"Then what else were you expecting?" That question should have sounded so harsh if Haley weren't so busy burying her nose in them to hide her flustered expression.

"Ever heard of giving a pretty flower to a pretty lady?"

She could have sworn she heard Demetrius snort back a laugh.

Haley couldn't help but sigh, but a smirk tugged at her lips at your poor attempt at charming her.

Rumors be damned. These flowers smelled good.

****

Summer 12

"Yoba..." she muttered under her breath, huffing as she finally managed to lift all her shopping bags off the bus. The driver, thankfully, was patient enough to wait as she struggled with her haul.

Some guy had even offered to help her, but Haley shot him a look that could kill, silently telling him to respectfully fuck off. She might have accepted his help if he hadn't been staring at her tits throughout the whole ride and being generally a creep altogether.

There was no way she was letting that perv touch any of her stuff.

The only problem now is how in Yoba's name she's going to lift all these shopping bags back to her house.

"Now there's the pretty face I hadn't seen all day."

Haley immediately perked up at the sound of your voice, her breath hitching as she caught sight of you approaching her.

Your hair was in a loose bun today, with stray strands framing your face in that imperfectly perfect way, it looked so endearing.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow, creating an ethereal aura around you as you stepped closer. The sunlight highlighted the gentle slope of your button nose and the soft curve of your lips, naturally tinted with a delicate shade of pink. Your tan skin seemed to radiate warmth, making Haley momentarily forget to breathe.

The sight of you, dressed in a sleek black leather jacket over a fitted white shirt, paired with jeans that hugged your figure just right, only intensified the fluttering in Haley's stomach.

Despite her best efforts to hide it, a flush spread across her cheeks as she took in your appearance.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, attempting to sound casual but failing miserably. The nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

"Oh, I was about to take a ride to Calico," you replied with a casual shrug, causing Haley's eyes to wander toward the sword strapped behind your broad shoulders. "I've heard there's a cavern there worth exploring."

"To mine?" She couldn't help but make a face. "At this hour?"

You barked out a laugh, the sound hearty and genuine. "Don't worry," you said, a reassuring glint in your eyes. "I'm just going to check the area. My weapons aren't strong enough to take on the monsters in there yet."

"Or better yet, stick to the usual farming and foraging, which is much safer," she suggested, trying to mask her concern with a light tone.

"I don't think so, Hay." You reached out and pinched her nose playfully, earning a mock scowl from her. "Anyway, you need help with the bags?"

She crossed her arms, her stubbornness making its appearance once again. "I think I can handle them myself. Give me some credit."

"Nope." With a chuckle, you swooped in to grab all the shopping bags from the ground, ignoring Haley's protest. "You've been wearing those heels the whole day. They must have been killing your feet right now."

That made Haley pause, her defiance wavering. "B-but—"

"I know you're capable of handling them yourself," you continued, adjusting the bags with ease. "But letting your arms rest for a couple of minutes wouldn't hurt, right?"

Haley sighed, her resolve softening. "At least give me the other bags," she insisted, her cheeks growing warmer by the second.

She wasn't at all foreign to your chivalrous tendencies, but she's still not used to the feeling. She also knew you weren't struggling, she just couldn't shake the guilt of letting you shoulder all the bags after doing such heavy chores on the farm.

But you were stubborn as a mule. When Haley attempted to take some of the bags from you, you shook your head with a playful grin, transferring all the bags to one hand and extending your free hand toward her. "Tell you what, I'll carry the bags, and you can just walk beside me. Deal?"

"B-but I thought you were going to Calico?"

"That could wait," you answered simply, hand still extended, waiting expectantly.

Reluctantly, Haley took your hand, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. "Fine," she muttered, her cheeks flushing as she glanced away. "But only because my feet are killing me."

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "That's the spirit!." You beamed at her, oblivious to Haley's heart pounding hard against her chest. "Let's get you home."

Haley usually kept her cool around you, but feeling your calloused palm against her soft hand stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within her.

She'd be a liar if she denied that there are certain nights that she wonders what it would feel like for your hand to intertwine with hers, and it felt like nothing compared to actually feeling it for the first time.

Despite the roughness of your palm and fingertips, it only added to the warmth she was feeling. They were also a bit bigger compared to Haley's, making your hands almost fully encapsulate her whole hand, almost protectively.

She thought she'd dislike the feeling. Strangely, though, it only made her feel secure. They were the hands of a hard worker, after all.

As you walked through town together, she could see the prying eyes of Jodi and Caroline. She sensed their whispers, undoubtedly exchanging her name and yours.

Surprisingly, this time, Haley didn't seem to mind.

Being called 'yours', even in hushed whispers and rumors, didn't seem so bad now.

****

Summer 13

Dear Miss Carter,

Thank you for expressing interest in our modeling opportunity. After careful consideration, we regret to inform you that we have decided to pursue a different direction for the campaign. While we appreciate your enthusiasm, we believe this decision aligns best with our project goals. We hope to collaborate on future endeavors.

Best regards,

Victoria Bloom

Stardew Valley Gazette

Haley couldn't bring herself to read the letter in its entirety. A single glance was enough to confirm her fears—it was a flat-out rejection.

The sting of disappointment was immediate, sharp, and disheartening.

Her hopes had been high this time, not just because she thought she was beautiful enough, but because she believed in her own talent and passion. She loved photography, had an eye for detail, and knew what made a model truly shine in a photograph.

This was one step closer to her dream—her chance to prove she was more than just a pretty face, designer clothes, and expensive make-up.

This is where she truly shines. Or at least that's what she thought.

But maybe she had become too complacent, thinking her appearance alone would open doors for her.

Seeing the words "We regret to inform you..." felt like a punch to the gut. Doubt began to creep in, whispering that perhaps she wasn't as good as she thought. Maybe the others were right after all.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror felt like salt being rubbed into her wounds. This face, this body... they were all she had. And even those seemed to have failed her.

How on earth was she going to break this news to you? You had been the first to support her when she shared her desire to apply for the position. You believed in her, encouraged her, and told her she had what it took. The thought of seeing the disappointment in your eyes was almost unbearable.

Haley was used to feeling disappointed in herself. She had faced setbacks before, but this felt different. This felt like a failure that might change how you saw her, and that was a bitter pill she wasn't ready to swallow yet.

The fear of letting you down, of not living up to the potential you saw in her, weighed heavily on her heart.

She sniffled, regretting how eagerly she had opened the letter. Now she had to face Alex and celebrate his birthday, looking like she had been crying for hours. Her mascara was smudged, leaving dark streaks down her cheeks, and her eyes were puffy and red from crying.

While she may have to put on her mask, pretend everything's okay, she knew that you and Alex could easily see through her facade no matter how hard she tried to put on a brave face.

It will still ruin the spirit of the party.

Maybe she should consider not going.

But Alex would be upset with her.

Or, either that, he'll physically drag her to the party himself.

Both scenarios felt like disasters.

She let out a harsh breath. Attending was the only option.

She began to retouch her makeup, particularly the parts that had smudged because of her tears, but it was a difficult task with the tears continuously pouring down her cheeks. Her hands trembled as she tried to fix the damage but she didn't dare stop.

She had to look perfect.

Fake it until you make it.

Come on...

A sob couldn't help but escape from her lips.

Fuck.

"Haley." A pair of warm, rough hands take hold of her own, stopping her from smudging her makeup even further. "Haley, come on. Stop."

"Huh..?" Her voice hitched as she saw you tower over her. Her big, baby-blue eyes, filled with unshed tears, met yours.

Oh, no....

You can't see her like this.

"What's wrong?" you began to question, keeping a firm grip on her hands but not too tight to hurt her.

Haley only shook her head. You can't see me like this.

As you lifted her chin up to face you, forcing Haley to meet your gaze, her eyes still glistening with tears, you noticed a makeup wipe lying nearby. With a quick yet gentle movement, you reached behind her back and snatched it up.

"I'd rather fight a whole swarm of skeletons than see you like this," you murmured as you gingerly wiped mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness, leaving nothing but her smooth, rosy skin. "What's wrong, Haley? Tell me, please."

She should just push you away. Tell you to leave her alone.

But she couldn't. Not when you're looking at her like that.

Like she's worth of so much more.

And just like that, Haley's resolve crumbled. She had been trying so hard to keep it together, to be strong, but your kindness broke through her defenses. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she tried to find the words.

"I... I got rejected," she finally managed to say, her voice shaking. "I really thought I'd get that job. Finally prove I'm more than just a dumb blonde from Pelican Town. But now... I feel like such a failure."

"You know that's not true."

"I keep trying my best, Y/n..." Her lips quivered and you were quick to caress her cheeks. "But it feels like I'm getting nowhere."

You squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Haley, you're not a failure. You put yourself out there and took a risk. That's something to be proud of."

"But what if I'm just not good enough?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What if I'll never be good enough?"

"Hey, hey... none of that. You are more than good enough," you assured her, gently cupping her cheeks before pressing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "One rejection doesn't define you or your worth. And it certainly doesn't change how I see you."

Haley sniffled again, trying to believe your words. "You're not bullshitting me, are you? Because I'm not in the mood to bake for you right now, you know?"

"I would never." You chuckled, your laughter infectious as Haley joined in. "Plus, it's their loss, you know? Only idiots would turn down a spectacular photographer AND model."

"Now I know you're definitely just kissing my ass," Haley snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder. As if to further tease her, your eyes playfully drifted downward, making it Haley's turn to cup your cheeks, unable to stop herself from giggling. "Eyes up here, miss."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," you retorted with a playful smirk, your eyes meeting hers with a twinkle of mischief.

Haley's laughter subsided, replaced by a soft, appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Y/n..." Her eyes are now sparkling with adoration instead of tears. The hands cupping your cheeks slid around your neck, drawing you closer. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

Closeness that was once awkward and forced...

What was once a heart pounding like a drum in her chest, fast and hot in an uneven rhythm...

Is now a heart steadily beating.

This closeness is calm and silent.

And if she were to die today in this spot with your arms around her, then Haley would die a happy woman.

"Keeping you happy is a responsibility I'd happily taken upon myself," you said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead once again, and Haley couldn't help but close her eyes this time, unable to suppress her own smile. "Now, let's fix your makeup," you added with a small smile, reaching for the makeup wipe again. "And then we'll go to Alex's party together. We'll get through this, one step at a time."

Haley nodded, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. Yeah, she might die a happy woman right here, but if Yoba were kind enough, she hoped she'd live long enough to see those smiles.

****

Summer 17

Click. Click.

Haley sighed as she looked through her camera's viewfinder.

"Just how many variations of the same shot can I take?" she muttered, exhaling another sigh.

After her sudden show of vulnerability to you, Haley suddenly got this urge to take pictures once again. While she may have failed to get that position as a model, that doesn't mean she failed as a photographer.

But looking at the flat, uninspired pictures she'd been taking for almost an hour now, she was starting to think otherwise.

The view here was spectacular, sure, but she’d been photographing this same spot by the lake for years now.

She needed something new. Something more alive.

Haley lowered her camera and gazed around, searching for a fresh perspective. The sun was up and about, casting a golden glow on the water and surrounding trees. It was beautiful–majestic even, if she could dare to say, but still... it wasn't enough.

It felt soulless. Bland.

Chop. Chop.

"That again." Haley couldn't help but glare in the direction of the sound, as if her annoyance alone could make it stop.

The incessant noise of wood chopping from the distance was not helping her at all. Whoever was chopping away had been at it for hours already and didn't give the impression of stopping anytime soon.

She tried to refocus, raising her camera again, but her concentration which was already nonexistent to begin with, was now a mere dust taken away by the summer breeze. The rhythmic, relentless chopping seemed to seep into her mind, making it impossible to find the spark she was looking for.

As if this person knew which buttons to push, the sound of a tree crashing to the ground echoed through the air, making a fully formed nerve start to throb on her forehead.

Whoever that idiot was, they were really going to get a piece of her mind. There was a whole damn forest just south of here, so why did they have to do it here?

Yoba forbid if it was Clint. He was really going to get an earful.

Frustrated, she decided to investigate.

Maybe a change of scenery—or at least figuring out what was going on—would help. Haley packed up her camera and headed toward the source of the noise.

As Haley got closer, she stopped when you suddenly emerged from behind a mahogany tree, an axe in hand.

You leaned down to grab a bottle of water beside your rucksack resting against the tree. Haley only realized she was staring when even the droplet of water that missed your mouth began to cascade across your neck down to your already wet tank top, leaving little to no imagination.

Yoba, when did it get so hot?

Probably unable to not notice such a pretty being such as herself on your peripheral, you turned your head to her with that familiar shit-eating grin she had grown to like so much as you closed the cap of your bottle.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" you greeted, slamming your axe on the stump behind you as you walked closer. "I didn't know you were here."

"Hey, yourself," she greeted with a small smile, her initial irritation suddenly evaporated into thin air. "I'm trying to get back on foot with photography and I was kind of distracted with the chopping noise, is all."

"Oh!" You scratched your nape sheepishly. Haley couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight caught the sweat on your skin, the muscles in your arms flexing with each movement. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to distract you."

Oh, you are distracting her alright, but probably for the wrong reasons.

"I just needed some woods so Robin could make some renovations on the cabin. Didn’t think anyone would be around," you went on, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on her. "If you'd like, I can hang with you for a bit. See your progress with your camera."

"Sure," Haley replied distractedly. "Wait, what?"

Before she knew it, you were peering over her shoulder, waiting expectantly for her to show the pictures she just took. The scent of sweat, wood, and flowers filled her nostrils, and Haley couldn't help but feel lightheaded. In a good way, she supposed.

Still, it was too much all at once.

Overwhelmed by the closeness that had been familiar over the months you had spent here, Haley instinctively backed away from you.

"Sorry," you chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. "I forgot I smell."

"No!" she almost shrieked, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "It's not that. I just…" she sighed deeply. "I got nothing to show you. All my shots are flat. Almost the same variations of the same scene. I can't put these in my portfolio, Y/n."

You plopped down on the grass, leaning back on your arms as you looked up at her with brilliant eyes. "That can't be true. You love taking pictures of this place."

"I know..." She let out another sigh, gingerly sitting on the grass in front of you. "I used to love this, capturing the beauty in everything. But now, it's like I'm stuck in a loop. There's got to be more to photography than just this."

"I think..." you trailed off, rummaging through your bag and producing a piece of white cloth. You brushed off the grass beside you, clearing away dried leaves and small pebbles before laying the cloth down. "Come sit here first, Haley." You patted the spot next to you.

Haley nodded dumbly, surprised and touched by your thoughtfulness. Did you really made sure she wouldn't sit directly on the grass because you knew how much she disliked getting dirty?

"I was saying," you continued, brushing off a stray piece of dry grass from Haley's skirt before helping her get comfortable beside you, "I think you need to find some new motives to spark your excitement again."

Haley settled next to you, feeling a bit more at ease. "New subjects, huh? Like what?"

You smiled, your eyes twinkling with ideas. "Anything that catches your eye. Maybe try photographing people, events, or even little details you might have overlooked before. Sometimes, a change in perspective is all it takes."

Haley considered your words. "You might be onto something there. I mean, I've been so focused on the same old scenes that I haven't really thought about branching out. It's just..." She looked down at the camera on her lap. "It's hard to break out of my comfort zone, you know? Old habits die hard, I guess."

"How about you take a photo of me chopping woods?" you suggested with a smirk as you helped her up.

"Be my model, you say?" Haley replied, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. "That's not a bad idea. You'd actually make a pretty good model if I say so myself."

That wiped the smile right out of your face.

"I was just kidding!"

"Nope." She grinned, even exaggerating the 'p' sound to further tease you. "Get your axe and get to chopping already, miss."

"But I'm as stiff as a board to be your model!" you whined but were already on your way to retrieve your axe.

"Just pretend I'm not here. Be candid."

"It's kind of difficult to ignore your camera's lens," you muttered, gripping the axe.

"Y/n," she called from behind her camera, adjusting the settings to capture the perfect shot. "Remember that photo I gave you last month?"

"Yeah..?"

"It was a good photo, you know?"

"Really?"

"You didn't need to pose at all to look good. Just be yourself." Haley briefly looked up from her camera, meeting your eyes with a soft smile before going back behind her lens. "I like you a lot better that way, anyway."

****

Later that night, she found herself inside her freshly made dark room. Designing this room had been challenging, but nothing was more challenging than sifting through hundreds, maybe thousands, of clothes in her walk-in closet that is now turned into the dark room, and finding some clothes she'd be willing to donate next spring for charity.

She truly loves her clothes and finds them as her way of expressing herself but hoarding them at this rate is alarming. So what better way to make good use of space than for her passion?

Though not completely satisfied with her setup, Haley knew this would have to do for now. Once the rest of the equipment she needed arrived, she'd definitely want you to see her darkroom one day.

With everything developed, she began to scan each photo with keen eyes, ready to pick out the ones that would go into her portfolio. But as she went through them, she realized that had been a mistake.

Her shots were... Impeccable. No surprise there.

And you were surprisingly a good model. Too good, actually.

She stopped on a particular photo, eyes raking towards your exposed stomach when you were about to slam your axe towards a log, arm flexing as you did. You have this fierce expression that's making Haley feel a lot of things one would deem explicit.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she continued to stare at the image, tracing the lines of your muscles with her eyes.

If she were to touch them, would they be hard against her fingertips or smooth and inviting? She was pretty sure that if you pinned her against the wall, she wouldn't budge. Not because she couldn't get past your solid chest, but because she'd probably melt right then and there, too overwhelmed to move.

Realizing she's thirsting over your photo, Haley gently slapped herself out of her trance. She tried to focus on the technical aspects of the photo, but it was no use. The picture was stunning and well—hot, and it's not just because of her photography skills. You were the reason it stood out so much. The way the light caught the sweat on your skin, the determination in your eyes—it all combined to create a powerful image.

She sighed, placing the photo in the "keep" pile. If she was this smitten over a couple of photos, there was no way she was submitting all of them. She liked to think these were for her eyes only, especially if that sultry, almost enticing gaze you were giving in front of the lens was anything to go by.

****

Summer 23

"Okay, Haley you got this. It's just water," she mentally cheered herself. "Every pretty girl must know how to swim on the beach."

It was probably just her screwed reasoning, but it definitely wasn’t because she saw you the other day swimming with Leah like some Olympic swimmer or something.

She's also gonna ignore the part that she avoids swimming on the beach because of some incident involving being taken away by the tide, water choking her lungs and her almost dying.

It wasn’t like that experience had put her off swimming entirely. She still loved the beach. The sun, the sand, the perfect tan it gave her—what's not to love?

But now, standing at the edge of the water, her toes curling into the wet sand, Haley felt the familiar knot of anxiety in her stomach. She took a deep breath, glancing over at the waves lapping gently at the shore.

"Just focus on the sun and the sea breeze," she told herself. "You can do this."

Anyway. It's not so bad if she confronted this... err—setback of her, right?

"Fancy seeing you here, Haley."

Haley whirled around from almost touching the water with her foot. Do you have some superpower in showing up whenever she felt the need to be vulnerable?

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate your presence, but she specifically woke up at the crack of dawn to practice her swimming skills because she knew you'd probably be busy tending to your farm, and most of the folks would still be snoring in their beds.

Well, aside from Elliot of course—knowing him, he was probably up already writing books and wouldn't leave his cabin anytime soon.

"Hi!" she finally greeted after what felt like an eternity of looking at your face. "I didn't expect to see anyone here so early."

"Really? I thought you know me well enough to know that I'm already up by 6 AM." You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "And since when do you wake up so early? What happened to your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up. I'm just..." she rolled her eyes, stalling. She's not keen to tell you just yet what she's up to. Especially for a ridiculous reason. "I just felt like coming here for some fresh air."

Haley looked so proud of the reason she had come up with but it seemed you weren't buying her excuse.

"You look like you're going for a swim," you observed. Haley could have sworn she saw you checking her out, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. "You look good in blue."

Caught off guard by the compliment, Haley felt her cheeks warm up. "Oh, um, thanks," she mumbled, trying to play it cool.

Ever perceptive, you must have noticed she looked a little off.

You tilted your head, a hint of concern in your eyes. "Everything alright? You seem a bit caught off guard."

She sighed, glancing down at the sand. "Well, I guess I am."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Haley hesitated, weighing her words. "I could, but aren't you going somewhere?"

"I was planning to fish for some crimson fish," you explained, rubbing the back of your neck. "But now that I think about it, I remembered Willy saying there's a specific time for catching it. So, I have time right now."

Haley gave you a hard look. She knew you long enough to know you were bullshitting her. The tips of your ears turning red was a telltale sign she noticed whenever you lied. Which wasn't often, because you couldn't lie convincingly even if your life depended on it.

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "It sounded important."

"Don't worry about it," you insisted, trying to sound casual.

You lent out a hand and Haley took it without hesitation. For some reason, clasping her hands against yours seemed a normal occurrence now that it seemed weird not to do it.

"Come on, let's sit by the shore. I heard the sunrise during summer looks great."

"Alright." Haley gave a small smile, appreciating the effort you were making to put her at ease. "Let's go."

The two of you walked towards the water's edge, the cool sand squishing beneath your feet. The horizon was starting to glow with the first hints of dawn, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

Sitting down, you both stared out at the calming waves. Haley took a deep breath, feeling a little more grounded by the familiar presence next to her.

"So, what's really going on?" you asked, your voice raspy but gentle. It was so soft that if it weren't quiet around them, she wouldn't have heard it. It was as if you were afraid to break the tranquil moment.

It was quiet for a moment. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or forced by any means. It was calm and warm—feelings you seem to radiate whenever you were around.

After a few moments of finding a comfortable position to sit, Haley's head found its way to rest on your shoulder, and as if on instinct, your hand settled on the small of her back, pulling her closer.

"You know, I was thinking about getting out of my comfort zone," Haley began, staring at the waves.

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning to look at her, your cheek pressing gently against her hair.

"Okay, fine. I'll admit it." She took a deep breath. "I'm scared of swimming in the ocean. Silly, right?"

"I don't think it's silly," you declared, and Haley couldn't help but believe you.

"I read online about confronting your fears and thought I'd give it a shot. But..." She sighed, looking down at her hands. "I couldn't bring myself to do it."

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Fears are real. It doesn't matter how it may seem to anyone. The fact you're even trying to face them is a big step already."

"Thanks, Y/n... I just couldn't help but feel like I'm letting myself down, you know?"

"You're not letting yourself down," you reassured her, your voice gentle but firm. "We all have things that scare us, and it's okay to take your time. The important part is that you're here, trying to overcome it. That's something to be proud of."

"Thanks, Y/n," she murmured, her fingers gently squeezing your arm. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

"Anytime," you responded with a chaste kiss against her hair and Haley could feel herself melt on the spot if she could. "Maybe it's about finding the right way to face your fear. How about we do it together?"

"You'd do that?" she leaned back from you with surprise in her eyes.

"Of course. I'd also feel a lot better if you had someone looking out for you."

"Alright... I'll give it another shot. Just... just promise me you'll be there with me?"

"I promise."

****

As you both waded into the water, Haley took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of the cool water against her skin and the soothing rhythm of the waves. She glanced at you, and the sight of your reassuring smile gave her the courage to take another step forward.

"Okay..." she breathed. "I'm in the water."

It felt different from her usual pool experience, with the sand underfoot instead of solid ground, but she was cautious not to let her foot stomp on any sea urchin.

"You're doing good, Haley," you encouraged from behind.

"This... definitely feels different," she admitted, noticing the vastness of the ocean around her.

"But the water feels nice, right?"

She nodded, still unsure what to feel. While the fear of being taken by the tide lingers in the back of her mind, the thought you're just behind her makes her feel safe, even just for a little bit.

Feeling a little brave, she wadded a bit further until the water rose up to her chest. She can feel that familiar pressure in her lungs, and she can feel herself panicking a little, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Is everything alright?" your voice cut through the sound of the waves.

"Could you maybe..." her voice cracked a bit and she couldn't dare herself to turn around and face you, afraid the wave would swallow her whole if she even dared to move. "Can you come a bit closer to me, Y/n? I'm still a bit scared..."

"Come here..." It wasn't long before she felt your familiar arms enveloping her, offering a sense of security she desperately needed. "I got you, see?"

"Thanks…" she murmured, a shiver coursing through her body despite the warmth of your embrace.

"One step at a time."

"One step at a time," she echoed your words, trying to muster some courage. "It's not that bad, right? I mean it's just water."

"Uhuh," you nodded, your breath warm against her ear. "Plus keeping yourself calm is one of the important aspects of swimming. And you know, being aware of the tides so you know when it's okay to take a swim."

"Okay... I'll keep note of that."

****

"Can you believe I modeled in swimsuits once?" Haley suddenly said after allowing herself to be familiar with the water. "This feels a lot different from a photo shoot."

"Even if you don't tell me, I'd assume you had been in one before," you mused as you tucked a stray blonde hair away from her face. "You're more than brave enough than you let on. Doing a photoshoot needs a lot of bravery, too, and— well, confidence. Give yourself some credit."

"You know what? In some ways I did face scarier things, I guess," she admitted with a chuckle. "Like wearing heels on a rocky path for a shoot."

"Hmm, just think about those whenever you feel like you can't do it."

Haley couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at you, her lips curling up in amusement. "You're making it sound like modeling is a big thing and you facing dozens of monsters in a cave like a walk in the park."

"Well, I'd rather take on hundreds of slimes than be a model," you grumbled, a playful scowl on your face. "I'd look silly."

"That's ridiculous, you'd be a great model."

"You're just kissing my ass." With a mischievous grin, you splashed some water on her face, making Haley gasp at your audacity.

"I would never!" she protested, laughing as she wiped the water from her cheeks before retaliating with a splash of her own, catching you off guard.

Oh, it's on.

****

A/n: this chapter is more like a filler—a glimpse of how Haley and the farmer got closer. I stumbled upon a mod that adds additional heart events for Haley, and I decided to include it. I'm focusing more on exploring Haley's arc, which is why I'm drawing out this fanfic so much. Forgive me; I just couldn't jump ahead to the kissing and whatnot, even though I'm dying to write that scene already.

This is actually a two-part chapter because I think the mod adds about ten heart events, and I had to cut it short since I think this chapter is already lengthy. I also need a couple of hours to rest my eyes. Forgive me for any grammatical errors; I continued writing this after my exams, so my head is a bit foggy at the moment. Love y'all and thank you for your patience.

@joordynn

taglist:

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

#stardew valley #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew haley #stardew fanfic #stardew valley fanfic

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noellefan101 · 2 years ago

Text

Offline to Online

Summary: your boyfriend is a streamer, a popular one at that. this is a fic about: how their chat find out that you are dating, how they treat you off-stream and on-stream/do they treat you differently

Warnings: swearing, mentioning of death threats and killing(Scaramouche), streamer reader(Scaramouche), slight ooc, if there is anything else then pls tell me

Characters: Xiao, Childe, Venti, Scaramouche, Aether

Note: I am trying my best ok, and I'm kinda new to Tumblr, so if it isn't to your liking then leave, please./I´m sorry if you can´t understand what I´m writing, bc neither can I/. btw this is later than I originally intended bc it got deleted when I was almost DONE, like seriously. so I have like no motivation left now, yay :(

Xiao

How Chat Found Out: You two were roommates, or that´s what his chat thought anyways. Because you two lived together that was what you told them and most believed that so you thought it was fine/Xiao is shy and lied about you two dating when they asked, and then you just lied too cus you are the best(I mean that with my whole heart).

but one day when you were out with some of your friends, and Xiao was streaming at home with Zhongli(in this story Xiao´s adoptive father) some girl suddenly came up to you and started yelling at you because apparently you took her "boyfriend" away, you and your friends got confused and just let her be after, she had yelled at you for about 2 min. a little later you called Xiao and explained what happened. and after Xiao told you that Zhongli got asked about your relationship while he was gone to get some food, and he forgot that you were keeping it a secret and even showed some photos of you kissing. when you got home/to a guilty Zhongli and Xiao trying his best to comfort him/you both forgave him and then properly announced it the next day, so you don´t have to worry about anyone finding you out. . . because they already know.

On-Stream: he is very shy so its mostly something like your beside him, in the background or sometimes sitting in his lap. he doesn´t pay that much attention to you but only because he thinks it's embarrassing and that stuff. he will also become a tomato if you kiss him on-stream, even though he will despise you for an hour or so its worth it.

Off-Stream: he becomes less shy and pays more attention to you, he also blushes more at your closeness because he doesn´t feel like he has to hold back his emotions. why? well, he´s with you the most wonderful y/n in the whole world. so yeah he behaves differently when you two are alone, and not with hundreds of people watching you.

he loves you, but he´s not always good at showing it.

Childe

How Chat Found Out: honestly I think would just tell them I they asked, but weirdly no one did. maybe it was because they didn´t want to interfere, and thought it was inappropriate. or they didn´t want any of the lovesick fans ruining your relationship. but either way, there was definitely someone else in the house, because they could sometimes hear someone talking in another room, and sometimes post and pans, I guess they just didn´t say anything about it.

but then one of his friends brought up how you were doing because you were sick the last time they talked to him. and he said you were doing better and then the chat flipped out with messages like "Who the f**k is y/n", "are you dating that y/n person", bratty fan girls raging because how dare him and so on. he then talked about you for the next 30 min, and the other person in the call almost fell asleep by how much he talked, so the chat now knows a lot about you. . . maybe a little too much.

On-Stream: he talks a lot, he always does, but now there are more topics about you when he talks all day. example: what you ate today, a pretty outfit you wore this week, some new accessories he got you today, and yadda yadda. he also has you sit on his lap or beside him in your own chair. and ofc he kisses you at least once every stream.

Off-Stream: I would say that he´s not much different, but maybe a little, for example: lets you talk more and now listens more than he talks, kisses you more and is always touching you(not in a sexual way).

he loves you more than anything and is not afraid to show it.

Venti

How Chat Found Out: honestly I think they already knew since he does "drunk" streams-streams with alcohol-and there was always someone beside him: you. you decided you would be bedside him for his safety and to make sure he doesn´t do anything too dumb. you were out of frame, so they couldn´t really see you, but Venti sometimes talked to you so they knew what you sounded like, and saw your hands once or twice. and they adored you, and by the way he talked about you and looked at you he did too. So naturally they thought that you were dating/or related by blood but he was too lovestruck when he looked at you.

but yeah one stream he maybe drank a little too much, and he maybe began talking to you while forgetting that he was live and called you some rather. . . sweet names and then passed out, so you carried him out of his room to make him sleep a bit. when you suddenly remembered that you forgot to turn off the stream and you didn´t even turn off the camera. meanwhile, the chat was freaking out because you were so freaking pretty. so you went in and turned the stream off.

On-Stream: you now sat a little closer and people could see at least half your body, you also there in more streams and not just those containing alcohol. you two didn't give that much affection but you sometimes kissed him here and there.

Off-Stream: besides being closer and kissing more often then I don´t think there are any other differences in behavior other than ofc you spend more time together and not just beside each other.

he loves you a lot and also loves to show it.

Scaramouche

How Chat Found Out: well basically he got into an argument with Childe typical of him. you were in a collab with them and playing a multi-player game when they started arguing over something/you didn´t know what bc you tried to ignore them, so you didn´t get a headache/and it got so heated you had to mute them so you and your viewers didn´t hear all their screaming and send a message to Scara to tell you when they were done. Therefore you didn´t hear Scara yell "Well at least I'm not single" (I forgot to say that here Childe is single in this part, oh well) and everybody was shocked, they thought that Childe would be the one to get a partner first. so while Scara and Childe were still arguing, the viewers started discussing who would want to date were dating him, they didn´t find anybody though.

a few days later they finally asked him instead of speculating about it, and he/with a straight face/"Oh. . . me and y/n are dating, you didn´t know?" and let's just say that chat flipped out even more because wtf you dating HIM of all people

On-Stream: he doesn´t show any affection like at all, the only thing is you forcing him to let you sit in his lap. but no kissing, sweet talk or anything like that, nope just the same grumpy Scaramouche. he got a little annoyed when you kissed him once while he played with some friends but forgave you. Oh, and you also collab more with each other.

Off-Stream: he is definitely a lot nicer, and is kinda soft for you/but only for you/. And he doesn’t look like he wants to k!ll someone all the time or sending death threats to anybody, so at least that's one thing going for ya.

he loves you, no matter if you annoy him from time to time.

Aether

How Chat Found Out: he was in a collab with a few people (Lumine, Venti, Xiao...), and Lumine wanted to annoy Aether, it´s a sibling thing. and therefore she brought up a lot of... not the best topics to talk about on stream, and she also brought up the fact that someone is living with him/you/and how that person is just sooo sweet and pretty/handsome. (because of course she´s been over and already knows that you two are dating) so she teased him by telling him about how he should totally date you, to try and get him to reveal it to the viewers. yes she could have just told them, but this was more fun for her.

he knew what she was doing but didn´t give in until Venti (actual best annoying b!tch) started to do it too, which Lumine loved Aether... not so much. so he eventually gave in and told them that, yes he was dating someone, Xiao then asked who and Lumine made him admit that it was you/the person he`s currently living with/and chat wanted ANSWERS so they asked him stuff like, who were you, where did you meet, when did you meet, how do you look, can we see this y/n, and so on. he answered the best he could while venti and Xiao were also asking questions. he eventually called you in and asked if it was ok for people to see you, and you said yes. (you cannot say no, understand) so you showed your face and you trended on teyvats twitter.

On-Stream: he definitely has you around him almost all the time, like sitting on his lap, beside him, or having you do something of your own in the background, you're properly also there if he does any cooking streams, vlogs or hangouts.

Off-Stream: he´s still has you around him, but now you´re a lot closer. that´s his way to show more love freely instead of keeping it down. because there's tons of people looking at you all the time, and sometimes he doesn´t want to share you.

he loves you very much, and wants you to be there with him at all time.

Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

#childe x reader #aether x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #venti x reader #gn reader #genderless reader #genshin streamer au #modern au #streamer au #noellefan101 #NoelleFan #noelle´s maiden #streamer!au

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candycandy00 · 9 months ago

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Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 10

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

When morning came, you sat up in bed and stretched, for once glancing at the clock without fear. It was your day off, and you intended to enjoy it as much as you could, starting with sleeping in.

You climbed lazily out of bed and walked into the kitchen for breakfast. Vartan was standing by the table, fully dressed. You blinked and tried to focus your vision. "This is unusual," you commented, eyeing his uniform.

"I would like to leave the apartment today."

The words came bluntly, steadily, like someone banging a sharp rhythm on a drum. You heard them, could not possibly mistake them, but still you leaned against the counter and said, "What?"

"I would like to leave today," he repeated, seeming somewhat confused by the need to say it again.

You stared at him for a second, then crossed your arms over your chest. "Alright. Go on. I'm not making you stay or anything. You barged in here to begin with." At some point you realized your hands were balled into fists. Why were you so angry?

He looked at you blankly. "Am I troubling you?"

You frowned. "No, but you're standing here acting like you're asking for my permission to leave. What do you want me to do? Beg you to stay?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should watch your tongue, that arguing with a half-breed was never a good idea, but you just couldn't stop yourself.

He still looked rather confused. "I thought I did need your permission. I am living in your home. You still have the right to make me return to the Tower."

It was your turn to look confused. "Wait, what are you talking about? How can I make you return to the Tower if you're going back there today anyway?"

"But... I am not going back to the Tower today," Vartan said.

"You just said you want to leave today!"

"Yes, I would like to leave the apartment for a short while. There is a place I would like to visit."

You immediately reddened. "Oh! Sorry! I totally misunderstood you. Yeah, you can go out for a while. Just don't let any of my neighbors see you."

"Of course," he replied, seemingly oblivious to your embarrassment. He walked toward the door, then stopped and looked back. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Uh, that kinda depends on where you're going," you said.

"Don't worry. I will not be seeing any of my kind."

You smiled. "Okay, then. Just give me a minute to get dressed." You left him to wait in the kitchen while you went to your room to pull on some jeans and a white cotton shirt. The neckline was a little low, with small, thin lace trim. You had been told by Terrian and Anna, on separate occasions, that you looked especially nice in white. You fixed your hair then looked in the mirror. You smiled to yourself, satisfied with your looks.

Would Vartan be satisfied? Why did you even think that question?

You met him in the kitchen, and he nodded to you without a word. You felt a tinge of disappointment. He didn't even seem to notice that you looked better than usual.

He opened the front door, and you edged past him so you could look both ways, making sure no one was in the hall. When the way seemed clear, you headed toward the stairs and motioned for him to follow. You did the same thing on the ground floor, thankful that your apartment building was never very crowded to begin with.

Once you were outside on the street, Vartan took the lead. You followed nervously behind him as he walked along the pavement. You tried to keep a small distance between the two of you, so that you could easily separate from him if he ran into any of the other half-breeds. You were unsure how they would react to seeing him with a human, and you didn't want him to get into any more trouble than he already had.

Luckily, the walk through town was uneventful, and soon the two of you were standing in front of an incredibly tall, crumbling building. You looked up toward the top, squinting your eyes against the red haze of the sky. It was probably the tallest building in Gallica, aside from the Tower.

"Is this it?" You asked, hoping you didn't sound disappointed.

He nodded and stepped through the open doorway. You followed, and together you and Vartan climbed several flights of stairs. They were steep, and in such disrepair that you occasionally had to skip a step that looked unsafe. The walls were cracked and filthy, covered in long faded graffiti. There had been a handrail at one point, apparently, but it was mostly in broken pieces now.

After reaching the sixth floor, you grabbed his arm from behind, signaling him to wait. You sat down on the steps and panted. "Sorry, I need a little break."

He sat down beside you and watched you patiently. There wasn't so much as a drop of sweat on his face, and his breathing was completely even. "Take as long as you need," he told you.

"You half-breeds are pretty amazing. Do you ever get tired?"

"Sometimes," he replied, looking away from you.

"So what's at the top?" you asked, pointing toward the roof that looked so very far away.

"Nothing important. You will see."

You stared at him curiously, wondering what he wanted to show you. He met your gaze and you blinked. "Um, how many stairs do we have to climb?" you asked quickly.

He stood up. "I will carry you."

"What?"

"I will carry you the rest of the way. Stand up."

You got to your feet slowly and he turned his back to you, squatting slightly. You stared at his back, a wave of heat spreading through your face, under your skin. Your heart raced. It was such a silly thing, getting a piggyback ride from him, but you had never really touched him before. Not outside of sewing up his wound or helping him to a cot.

He looked at you over his shoulder. "Get on," he said flatly.

You carefully reached forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed your body against his back, and lifted your knees until he took hold of them and stood up straight. You were immediately surprised by how effortless he made it seem. He didn't so much as grunt as he climbed the rest of the stairs with you on his back.

The whole way up, you couldn’t shake the bizarre feeling of familiarity. Like a phantom memory that was too hazy to remember clearly.

When he reached the door to the roof, he eased you back to your feet. You looked at the floor, red creeping into your cheeks. "Thanks," you said.

He gave no response as he opened the door and walked out onto the roof. You followed him to the ragged fence at the northern edge and stood beside him as he looked out over the city. Not too terribly far away, you could see the Tower, and at this height, you could make out more of its details than ever before.

As you had thought, the top of the tower was connected to the very center of the dome, like a support beam. What you didn't expect to see, however, was a large mechanical device protruding from the top of the tower. It resembled some kind of cannon pointing upwards, and a gazebo-like room surrounded it. You could barely make out a single half-breed standing near the device, like a soldier standing guard.

"What is that?" you asked.

Vartan followed your gaze to the device. "It is the machine that operates the dome."

"Well, I kinda guessed that. How does it work?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he responded. "I know that the Pagoda's technology powers it, and every three years we must recharge it."

"And why is it being guarded?"

"In the past, humans have tried to reach the machine and destroy it, believing they could escape the city if the dome was removed."

Your jaw dropped. "That's crazy! Everything's frozen outside! If they turned the dome off, we'd all die!"

"Yes, and that is why we guard it. Even we half-breeds could not survive for very long without the dome. I believe some humans think we are lying about the outside, to keep them from trying to escape."

You were quiet then. For the very first time, you understood why there might be a need for the half-breeds. Still, their ruthless behavior couldn't be overlooked. You glanced at Vartan, whose eyes were fixed on another section of the Tower, slightly lower down.

"Do you see those vehicles?" he asked you, pointing to an open floor a third of the way down the Tower. On it, you could see several things that you could only describe as misshapen cars with no wheels and far fewer windows. You nodded and he went on.

"Those are called Flyers by the half-breeds. They are capable of traveling through space. The Pagoda use them occasionally to visit the mother ship. Half-breeds are not allowed to touch them, but we do see them being flown from time to time."

You were listening intently. This was the most Vartan had said in the entire time you’d known him.

He paused to look at you, then turned his eyes back toward the Flyers. "I... often think about... climbing into a Flyer and leaving this world."

Your eyes widened. You watched Vartan's face as he continued to stare at the Flyers, and you saw a hint of longing there, a hint of despair. You didn't know what to say to him. You were terrified of saying the wrong thing, something that would make him regret sharing such a private thought with you.

He looked at you again, and there was still a shade of sadness in his usually unreadable eyes. "I do not know why I wanted to bring you here, but thank you for coming with me."

"I'm glad you brought me here," you said. "I'm glad I got to know a little more about you."

He looked mildly surprised. "You want to know about me?"

You felt the familiar blush heating up your face. "Well, yeah. You're living with me and all."

"I see," he said. "I will tell you anything you want to know."

"Anything?" you asked, somewhat skeptical. He nodded, and your mind flew into a frenzy as you tried to decide what you most wanted to know. A million questions popped into your head, and you struggled to quickly sort them out. Suddenly you remembered Nariah's story about her mother. "Do you know anything about your human parent?"

Vartan's face seemed to freeze instantly, and you winced, certain you had asked the wrong thing. He looked back toward the Tower. "My mother was human," he started, speaking slowly as if carefully choosing his words. "Half-breeds are kept away from their human parents, because the Pagoda do not want us to be influenced by our human sides. Most human parents are killed anyway."

You nodded, having already heard most of this from Nariah. You said nothing and waited, making it clear that you wanted him to go on.

"My mother was kept alive for several years after I was born. I have a younger brother. He lives in a different domed city, and I only see him every so often. It’s been two years since we last met. We share both a mother and a father, which is rare among us."

You continued to remain silent, eagerly waiting for more.

Vartan's eyes were still fixed on the Tower. "I did meet my mother, if that is what you want to know. On the day she was scheduled to be executed, she somehow escaped from her cell and ran through the Tower, searching for me. She found me by spotting my father walking into my room. When she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me and began crying. She said she had to see me at least once before dying."

You were struck by the difference in Vartan's tone compared to Nariah's. Something about his voice seemed calm, almost nostalgic, as he recounted the story.

He finally turned his face to you as he finished. "I do not know why, but my father did nothing to stop her as my mother held me. She whispered many things into my ear, telling me that I am human, that I should never forget my humanity, that this is my world too. My father only spoke when she asked him where my brother was. The Pagoda guards rushed in after that and pulled her away from me. They dragged her out of the room, to be executed. As she disappeared into the hall, she screamed to my father, 'Please take care of our child!' and they were the last words I heard from her."

You waited for a moment, to be sure he was done talking, before speaking. "It sounds like your mother was very brave."

Vartan nodded his head slightly. "I find my memory of her... comforting. That is strange, isn't it?" he asked you. "A human would be troubled by such a memory, of watching their mother be dragged away to death. A Pagoda would not feel anything at all. I feel I am... different."

It occurred to you that it was that brief meeting with his mother that made Vartan different. In those small moments in which his mother had held him in her arms, she had managed to awaken something in him - something human. "Maybe you find it comforting because it reminds you that you were loved," you told him gently. "Your mother must have loved you a lot, even before seeing you, to go to those lengths to meet you."

Vartan lowered his eyes. "I could not return her love. I didn’t know how. I never even spoke to her. I was motionless the whole time she was there."

"I'm sure she understood. She loved you, no matter what. She told your father to take care of you, right? Speaking of which, isn't it strange for your father to allow her to hold you?"

Vartan's expression changed slightly, from a flicker of sadness to a flicker of something like pride. "My father is strange among the Pagoda. He is often criticized by the others for being eccentric. There was a rumor among the half-breeds that my father is not one hundred percent pure Pagoda, that his distant ancestors had mated with another race. I do not know if this is true or not. There were also rumors that his relationship with my mother was viewed as inappropriate somehow."

You smiled, amused by the fact that Vartan seemed pleased with his "eccentric" father. Perhaps Vartan's human-like behavior was a result of his parents, both of whom seemed rather extraordinary themselves. "He sounds like the only Pagoda I'd ever want to meet," you said. "What do they look like, by the way?"

"They look much like half-breeds," Vartan said, "but they are taller, with longer arms and legs. Their eyes have many colors, all on each eye. They wear dark robes, and keep their hair very long."

You found yourself trying to picture Vartan's father, a tall man with long black hair and rainbow eyes. The image just looked silly, so you changed the subject. "There is one more thing I'd like to ask. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he answered, eyes on yours.

You tried to think of a way to word your question. You had been wondering for some time now about how many women Vartan had been with. As Terrian had said before, a half-breed with a willing human was rare, but you had difficulty imagining Vartan raping someone. Then again, you would have had trouble imagining him tearing a man's head off if you hadn't seen it first hand. You took a deep breath and looked him in the face. "Have you had sex with lots of women?"

He quickly looked away, as if embarrassed, and you dreaded his answer. He kept his eyes on the ground as he opened his mouth to speak. "No, not 'lots'. One."

"One?"

"I have been with one girl."

"Why only one?" you asked, the question popping out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Half-breeds were known for their carnal exploits. They seemed to be far more hormonal than humans, and that was saying something.

He seemed highly uncomfortable with the topic, but he answered you anyway. "I did not find it to be a pleasant experience. The girl... was crying. I was very young, younger than her, but she probably thought I was older. The other half-breeds told me what to do, and I followed their directions. I did not know why she was crying. Just before it was over, I realized that she was crying because she did not want to..." He stopped talking there, unable to finish the sentence. He paused, then continued. "I did not enjoy it, doing such a thing to that crying girl, so I did not do it again."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. Vartan had been just as much a victim as the girl, he'd been a child manipulated into doing something he would feel guilty over for the rest of his life. You reached out and placed a hand lightly on his arm. "You can't be blamed for that. You didn't know what you were doing."

He looked at your hand. "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

You reddened. "Um, have you ever thought about trying it with a human who wants to do it?”

He looked at your face. "I have experienced physical desire, yes. And I have wondered what it would be like, with a girl who is not crying."

Your face burned a little more as you asked the next question. "Have you felt any, uh, desire for me?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Really? When?"

His voice was still mechanical. "When I woke up in the clinic and saw you in your underwear. When you looked straight at me in the alley and told me I owed you. When you came out of your room the morning after I came to your house. When I woke up that evening to find you standing over me."

You were shocked. All those times, he'd given no indication that he felt any attraction to you at all. He must have been holding himself back because of his past experience with sex. You couldn't resist smiling. You felt a surge of confidence. "If you thought I wanted to, would you want to be with me?"

He seemed surprised by the question, his eyebrows raising as he looked at her. "Yes."

That was all you needed to hear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his. He slowly lifted his hands and placed them on your back, carefully and gently, obviously unsure of the action. For several seconds, he remained rigid and still, to the point that you began to feel embarrassed. Then, as if he had simply been waiting to be certain you really did want this, he suddenly pressed himself against you, his hands moving over your body, his mouth hungry on yours. It was like a dam had broken, and all the desires and needs and aches came pouring out, washing over you.

Half-breeds were supremely hormonal creatures. Vartan, you discovered, wasn't quite as different from the others as you first thought.

He peeled off your clothes in a hurry, as if waiting even one moment to see your body was agony for him. When you were stripped bare, you stood before him, blushing and crossing one arm over your chest. You’d seen him naked before, so you knew. He was perfection, and you… you were human.

But when you worked up the nerve to look at his face, you found him staring at you with an expression of awe, a look you’d never seen a half breed wear before. “You’re beautiful,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made you drop your arm to your side. He looked as if he wanted to take you immediately, but he stood rooted to the spot as he asked, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, but then quickly held one hand up to signal for him to wait. “First, take your clothes off too.”

It was too embarrassing to be the only one naked.

“Okay,” he said, pulling off his uniform and leaving it in a neat pile on the cracked concrete. When he turned to face you, you were surprised to find him already hard. He was much bigger erect than he was when you saw him naked before, and seeing his arousal made your face flush with heat.

You’d never done anything like this before, so you were uncertain of how to proceed. Vartan’s experience was severely lacking, but his own desire seemed to be spurring him on. He stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling your naked body against his. Ahh, his skin felt so smooth and warm. His hands slid down your back, to your ass, where they squeezed lightly.

You tilted your face up and kissed him again as his hands roamed over you, aggressive yet gentle. You remembered a time when the thought of a half breed touching you was the most terrifying thing you could imagine. But Vartan’s touch was warm and careful.

He paused to get his long jacket from the pile of clothes and spread it out like a blanket. Then the two of you sank down onto it, him on top of you. He hovered over you for a moment, then said, “I’d like to try something I read in one of your books. Can I?”

Your mind raced to try to imagine what he read. Those books were full of ridiculously unrealistic sex scenes. But he seemed excited to try whatever it was, so you nodded.

He slid down, parting your legs before leaning forward and licking a stripe up your wet slit. You shivered, rising up on your elbows to look down at him in shock. From what you’d heard, half breeds were usually far too preoccupied with their own pleasure to put much effort into pleasing a human partner. Of course Vartan would be different.

His tongue slipped between your folds, and you don’t know if he intended it or not, but he licked right over your clit, making you gasp. He looked up at you then, his bi-colored eyes watching your face. “The book was right,” he said, “it is delicious.”

This made you blush furiously, instinctively covering your face with your hands as you muttered, “Oh my god.”

You heard Vartan’s voice, soft and uncertain. “I’m sorry, is this unpleasant for you? The woman in the book enjoyed it very much.”

Moving your hands, you looked down at him. “It feels really good. It’s just kind of embarrassing.”

He was looking back at you with concern. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes!” you said, a little too enthusiastically. He smiled, then went back to work pleasuring you with his mouth. You laid back, trying to relax despite your nerves being on fire. A gorgeous half breed was between your legs, gently licking your clit, acting as if you were bestowing some wonderful privilege upon him for allowing it. Oh god, it felt too good! Your legs quivered, your back arched, and your hands gripped fistfuls of his jacket beneath you.

You climaxed with a moan, your body trembling as he pulled back and watched you, enraptured by the sight of your orgasm. You panted to catch your breath, then he moved closer, pushing your legs up, bending them at the knees. You felt his tip brush against your entrance, and found him staring at your face, as if waiting for one more confirmation. Given his history, you understood. You smiled up at him and put your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer.

When he finally pushed into you, it was a slow and careful motion. He didn’t want to hurt you, but your own desire was reaching its peak. You wanted him all the way inside you, and you wanted it now. You bucked your hips against him, urging him to go deeper, faster. You wanted to feel every inch of him.

And he complied, thrusting in, over and over, his breaths hitching in his throat and his eyes sliding closed. You moaned and twitched beneath him, your arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer.

His cock pulsed inside you, throbbing with pleasure, hitting a spot deep within you that had you gasping. His face hovered above yours, and he looked so beautiful, like angel.

When you came again, clutching him ever tighter, he buried his face in your neck, kissing your throat as his own climax hit. You felt his seed shoot deep into your core, and you felt content. At that moment, the Pagoda, Gallica, the entire world dissolved into the distance. For you, all that existed were you, Vartan, and the red sky looming over your heads.

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

#alien x reader #alien x human #alien x you #x reader #original fiction #original x reader #reader insert #x reader smut #scifi x reader

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disarmd · 11 days ago

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"from a craft perspective nothing special about the actual prose" I'm truly not saying this just to rush in and white-knight like "omg nooo don't criticize yourself!", it's just that I had a genuine "wow really??" reaction, because: I actively admire your prose for its clarity and efficiency. Yeah maybe the sentences aren't an intricate maze of clauses, but they read like a dream and fit together perfectly. Your writing always feels to me like it’s saying exactly what it needs to say, in a very effective, unpretentious way. Often simple but never simplistic, does that make sense? Dare I say… it's disarming? 🤣 And there are these banger lines peppered throughout, and yes, often they're stated in plain language, but in a way that always makes me feel like… this COULD be expressed with fancy imagery or a subtle metaphor or whatever. But it SHOULD be expressed exactly the way it was written here.

Basically there’s simple prose which you read and you think, this is someone who’s at the limits of their ability to express themselves (which sounds kind of mean but I don’t even intend it that way - I’ve read some truly excellent stories written with kinda clumsy prose and in a lot of ways I think it’s the least important part of writing, or at least storytelling). And then there’s simple prose which you read and you think, this is someone whose style of expression is lean and pared back, in a way that requires a lot of talent and skill. And I’ve always put your writing in the latter camp. Sorry for waxing poetic about your prose for a minute there lmao having said all that, "fanfic flavoured fanfic" is a such fantastic turn of phrase

nonnie 😭🥺😭🥺 you know what, though, everything you've said actually does resonate in a way that i'm not even going to try to fight with you about this. By that I mean I had a whole paragraph of unkind-to-myself stuff typed and I just sat here and deleted it all! BOOM.

because i do agree that there's a skill to being able to communicate with efficiency and clarity, and it's something i do a lot at work. oh man, the fanfic equivalent of writing a really good executive summary, like what do the decision makers actually care about? of all the information, what's most important? based on everything presented, what conclusions should people draw? and then saying it in a clear way that is easy to understand. it's like pulling teeth trying to get that from consultants and analysts, my god, people just want to be like: here are 50 tables, do with that what you will. and I deeply value efficiency, and I love the whole concept of something being disarming (that’s what I originally wanted my username to be!) and I specially love the idea of it being an adjective to describe my writing. Everything you said felt accurate to how I see it except you said it in a nice way instead of as an insult so I will happily take your reframe 🥰

I’m trying not to take myself too seriously because it’s probably just that I’m PMSing, but I really needed this yesterday/today. You know that post about how ‘can you believe people write fic for free’ - but the opposite loveliness: can you believe that on the internet where someone could do literally anything they wanted, they’d choose to spend their time being so kind and supportive just out of the goodness of their heart????

#replies #anon

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waywardstation · 7 months ago

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Happy WIP Wednesday!

I almost forgot today was Wednesday, but here’s another WIP! It’s from my Halloween fic I’m waiting to post. I may start posting it after this weekend, it mainly depends on when I find time to format it for posting ^^ (it is multichapter)

This fic has been wild. It originated from a fic I’d already tried to write once before, but the final product ended up being completely different and I ended up with a different narrative. I tried again to finish it for this Halloween, but once again it deviated from its original idea and turned into something else!

Maybe one day, the original narrative will be written! But I do enjoy how this one turned out too.

Enjoy! Wording is subject to change.

—————

“Have you even seen what it looks like?”

“It only arrives when I am asleep, and has always departed by the time I wake up. And I cannot fight off sleep indefinitely, I’m afraid.” Even now, the thought of getting quality rest made his muscles ache for it.

“Yeah, but I can!” Akari reconsidered her words when Ingo threw her a ‘please do not try that’ look. “I mean, I can do it in your place – stay awake when you won’t! I can stay with you tonight; I’ll keep watch when you go to sleep, so when this intruder comes in, I’ll be there to catch it!” She seemed to be making herself more excited over the idea as she went on. “We can make it a sleepover!”

“While I do appreciate the offer Miss Akari, under these circumstances I must decline.” Ingo was not keen on the possibility of getting the teen involved with this… thing, whatever it was. Her generally superficial reception to it told him she might not have realized just how alarming this situation really was, either. “Besides, I have decided to keep my own Pokémon out with me for now, something I should have done sooner. I am certain this mystery intruder will not enter so effortlessly anymore.”

“Oh come ooooon,” Set on persuading him, Akari began chanting. “Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver!”

“How about I let you know if ever I believe your services are required.” He compromised, taking another sip of his tea. He still didn’t really intend to drag her into this.

#wip wednesday #apologies for being gone also I just got through so many big events this week #got one more left that I know of this weekend #things should settle again for a little bit after this hopefully

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dippersguidetotheunexplained · 7 months ago

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About this: https://dippersguidetotheunexplained.tumblr.com/post/765999557103452160/we-shouldve-been-making-him-apologize-for-all. Actually he did apologise. From the interview he had with ThatGFFan and Fordtato:

Hana: That actually is one of my questions, if there is anything that, you know, you think hasn’t aged particularly well–um, that you might go back and change if you were making it again today. Alex: Here’s the thing. Me and the crew that I work with, we really care about what we make. And so we’re all perfectionists. The hour after I locked picture on any episode, I would’ve said, “Oh, shit, there’s things I wanna go back and change.” [Laughs] You know, I was dissatisfied with it as I was making it, let alone ten years later. It’s impossible as a viewer to understand the difference between content and intent, because you’re only receiving content. Hana: I will say, I’m surprised that the answer that I didn’t immediately get was Grenda. I feel like Grenda– Alex: Oh! Hana: Like, at least among my friends–I mean, there’s a lot of love for Grenda, obviously, like we all love her, we understand that it was intended more as a commentary on puberty [as you’ve said in past statements]. But like–most of my friends are trans. [laughs] And, like–the joke about her voice changing– Alex: Super, yeah. Hana: But it can come across as a transphobic joke. Alex: I think that’s–that’s a perfect example of what I was saying about content–intent and content, right? The origin of Grenda was: we were writing Double Dipper, and we realized, “Oh, it would be cool if Mabel made some friends in town.” I had worked with two actors Carl Faruolo and Niki Yang, who shared a cubicle outside my office, who were always arguing about things because they just had such different personalities. Carl had such a big personality and Niki was–she was very sly. The idea was, ”What if Mabel’s friends are just Niki and Carl? Because they have a fun rapport.” So it was like–”Great! There’s a friend-shaped hole in the script, Niki and Carl are Mabel’s friends!” You know, that decision is sort of made in haste as sort of, “Oh! We love these two and we know that they are funny and fun.” You’re one hundred percent right to watch that and say, “This is not on the level with the conversation about gender.” A hundred percent, yes, it was a blind spot. You’re absolutely right. I love Carl but, if I was inventing Gravity Falls from scratch now, in a million years I wouldn’t have cast Carl in that role. It’s one of those things where, I believe that when it comes to media, the customer is always right. So, when, you, the customer says, “This, this was experienced by me as something that was insensitive or hurtful,” I’m like, “You’re right.” Like, we fucked up. I’m sorry you experienced it that way. I’m sorry we failed you as an audience. I’m glad we were able to deliver in so many ways, but you know, that was a - as the chef serving the meal you come back and say, “what the hell is this in there and-” you’re right! Hana, jokingly: There’s some transphobia in this salad! Alex [laughing]: There’s ignorance- there’s a little bit of ignorance inside my soup! I’m like, “Oh, you’re absolutely right, I’m so sorry. I wish I could go back to the kitchen and get you a soup that’s different.” I can guarantee you that you wouldn’t see that from me ever in anything I’m making again.

ah ok. yeah didnt really watch that interview so wasnt aware

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quibbs126 · 5 months ago

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I started making this Tuesday and finished today

I’m not entirely sure what my intention originally was, I think I might have been attempting to draw various Ratchets. Or just g1 Ratchet, but then I realized I made him too small to just post him alone

I got myself some references for g1, I think his IDW self (they were on the same page), Cyberverse, Animated and Prime. So I might have been trying to draw all of them, but I’m not sure

But yeah, I drew g1 Ratchet, and then I decided to draw Cyberverse him, because he had a neat design

For my first attempt at the style, I don’t think it turned out horrible? Not the best though, and I especially need to work on the arm joints

Also none of them have hands because I was too lazy to give them any. So just ignore the lack of hands

Anyways, so after that (but also on Tuesday, I just finished the lineart and colors today) I think I was trying to combine features to get a Ratchet design I’d like to draw. It was mostly these two for inspiration, but there was also a bit of the IDW design I took as well. But also it’s mostly in the head, I didn’t care much about the rest of it

I don’t think I intended to use the CV eye lines, but I wanted something and just ended up doing that. Might change them later. I also gave him the big eyebrows because I thought it suited him. Grumpy old man

I gave him the antenna because I thought he’d have one. Like he needs to keep the radio on in case anyone needs his assistance (and he’s surrounded by idiots)

I gave him circles and the simple chevron because it’s just easier for me to draw and I’m lazy

I gave him the sirens from CV because I liked them. I also gave him the thing in the back because it looks like a backpack and I like that on him, I like to read it as a pack with his medical stuff, even if it probably isn’t

But on to colors, I do wish I could have more red, but admittedly there isn’t much else to put it in the little I drew. So fair enough

But also, I didn’t want to give him the red chevron. That’s like, the common chevron color, and I like how he didn’t follow that in his g1 design, being grey instead. But the grey isn’t in much else of his colors, and the red would be more consistent. And also, I like the white with red accents, it fits him as the medic. So I don’t really know how to get rid of the problem here. I guess the best solution is to change other chevrons?

I’m also debating changing his eye color from blue. I consider it with most of the Autobots (and I would the Decepticons, but I haven’t really drawn them), since they almost all have blue eyes, and I want variety. I think Ratchet can still have blue eyes, since it kind of fits, at least with the blue half of the sirens. If I were to get rid of that, maybe his eye color could change, but I’m not entirely sure what to. I know I tried yellow and red, but maybe I need to expand

But yeah, I don’t know. I finished this, wanted to share it. I really do need to get better at figuring out vehicle modes/the rest of the body. Probably need better references than the g1 cartoon

#oh yeah never talked about the g1 Ratchet there #I think he looks fine #probably the best in execution since I generally know what I’m doing with these designs now #I still don’t know how to draw the joint bits though #they’re the true bane of my existence I tell you #outside of the angles of the rectangles I suppose #anyways yeah I think I’m done here #they’re basically all making the same face aren’t they?#my bad #transformers #transformers g1 #transformers cyberverse #tf ratchet #my art #my designs #I should probably have that as a tag when I mess with the designs tbh

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lumine-no-hikari · 17 days ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #513

I spent... almost the entirety of today writing, swimming within the aether of my imagination, trying to connect with something much bigger than myself.

...I'm never sure to what extent this sort of thing actually works. I have some experience with mindfulness and meditation, and so it's relatively easy to relax into a flow-like contemplative state when the conditions are right for it. It's just... it's so seldom that I allow the conditions to be right for it.

...Under ordinary circumstances, my days are filled with a variety of distractions and a variety of responsibilities towards the people around me. But today... today, I tried deliberately remaining mostly disconnected from my phone. I feel relatively recharged as a result, I think.

Oh! You know what? I forgot to tell you about the new CPAP mask frame I've tried for the last several nights. On the one hand, I am definitely able to sleep on my stomach now. On the other hand, the top of the mask is supposed to seal over the tip of my nose instead of over the radix. Right now, I'm using a medium-sized mask for the new frame. The seal over the tip of my nose has been unstable for the last several nights, and so I got a small-sized one, which I intend to try tonight. The lower half of my face is abnormally small (which is why I need a CPAP to begin with), so I'm hoping that the small mask works a little better. We'll see how it goes.

Notably, I have consistently much less pain in my ribs and shoulder so far. So I wonder if the original CPAP mask interfering with my normal sleeping positions is part of the problem I've been facing, regarding that whole thing. I guess we'll see.

Oh, also-also... I've decided that I'm not, in fact, going to use my current set of braces as a retainer. I am instead going to wear it as normal, just without the rubber bands. If I have the braces out of my mouth for more than a few hours, the discomfort of putting them back in far exceeds the discomfort of switching to an entirely new set. I'd rather deal with the cosmetic issue of discoloration of the plastic. Cosmetic issues are just cosmetic; I do not care. And... I imagine that that's probably something you can understand.

As I wrote today, it was another pretty perfect day of lilac-scented breezes coming in through the screen of the sliding glass door to my right. M is playing a new game called Blue Prince; it's a fascinating game full of puzzles and exploration, and... I wish you could be here, watching him play while sipping a nice cup of tea, and maybe helping him solve some of the puzzles with that smart and awesome brain of yours.

...Alas. The world is full of tragedies, and this is one of them. It's a little easier to bear today than it has been on past days. Probably because I'm not low on iron.

Well. I breathed life into a couple more wishes for you today. Here:

The habit at this time is to listen to something as I do this, in order to shut out outside distractions. Maybe you'd find today's selections interesting:

youtube

...Yeah. It takes me a while to fold just two of these. Dyspraxia is no freaking joke, man.

...

Oh. In case you forgot. Because I did post these. Here's how I like to translate Hadaka no Yuusha:

Remember that everyone is putting on a brave face and trying to stifle their overflowing tears. So don't be tempted to use the kind of power that comes from being cruel. No one seems to understand this, but heroes don't need power. Just trust in your authentic self. And, even if your hands seem so small, behold: All of the love you've ever given and received and all of the curses that have befallen you, too These are what give you the strength to protect everything you hold dear. On some days, your sorrows might attack you from every direction, and overwhelm you to the point of falling to your knees, barely able to draw breath. But remember: so many things in this world come in opposing pairs: Joy and tears, despair and strength Even when you are overflowing with doubt and worry, Remember that love and gratitude shatter all barriers. Look at all of the things that your strong hands have carried up until now, and understand: All of the love you've ever given and received and all of the curses that have befallen you, too These are what give you the strength to protect everything you hold dear. Everyone wants to be heroic. But it is one of the most difficult things to achieve. Find the courage to face and overcome your pain, sorrows, and weaknesses and as you use your newfound strength to tear the darkness apart, rejoice: All of the love you've ever given and received and all of the curses that have befallen you, too These are what give you the strength to protect everything you hold dear. Don't be tempted to use the kind of power that comes from being cruel. No one seems to understand this, but heroes don't need power. Just trust in your authentic self So that the shadows, recoiling from your gentle brightness, ask in terror: "What even ARE you?!"

...And here's how I like to translate Flare:

I tried not to allow today to be swallowed up by yesterday, but I ended up being swept away anyway. I tried to ignore my sighing heart, but then you jumped in with a smile. I took another look at the deadline that I thought I had decided was final, and pushed it back just one more time. If the scenery can change just by taking a single step, if anything can finally change: Shine as brightly as you can, even if you get laughed at, because I'll be right here, holding your hand. It can't be someone else - it HAS to be you. Tears alone don't have the power to save anything; You have to shine on, to a tomorrow that has never before been seen. I'll be here, singing to you, waiting for you. I'll always be right here, singing a little song for you, and waiting for you. I tried to wash away these feelings I have for you because I thought they were ridiculous, but they swirled around endlessly anyway. The tears that I didn't want to acknowledge were shed for you refused to return from whence they came. The scattered gaps in my vision made the path forward seem hazy. For better or for worse, you gave me a reason to continue, so I did. Shine as brightly as you can, even if your path seems endless, because I'll always be right here, with my hand outstretched to you. No one else can do this - it HAS to be you. Wishes don't come true by themselves; You have to shine on, to a tomorrow that has never before been seen. NO ONE CAN TAKE YOUR PLACE! Shine as brightly as you can, even if you get laughed at, because I'll be right here, holding your hand. It can't be someone else - it HAS to be you. Tears alone don't have the power to save anything; You have to shine on, to a tomorrow that has never before been seen. I'll be here, singing to you, waiting for you. I'll be right here, waiting for you, until you can sing together with us in this place, too.

...Sephiroth... someday, I hope to get to hear you sing any of these. I hope that anything I listen to might find its way to the cracks in your heart and fill your entire being with light. I hope someday to hear your laughter, and to feel your joy, radiating from you like a palpable force.

...I'll hopefully keep writing these until that day comes. I'll be waiting right here.

Suppose that's all for today. Maybe I'll do something a little more interesting tomorrow and therefore have more to write about. But for now, it's time for bed.

I love you so much. Do you feel it? Do you know it? Do you understand in your bones that you're worthy of it? From me? From anyone?

Please stay safe out there, okay? Please stay safe so that someday, you can come home to the place where everyone is singing for you and waiting for you.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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