#I like my ships easy and without complications

[lynnieverse]

like real people do // drew starkey

oneshot

drew stakery x popstar!reader

synopsis: after a little slip up in an interview where you accidentally reveal your celebrity crush, things get a little complicated when someone starts meddling.

4.2k words

highly requested part two here!

You knew doing the interview was going to bite you in the ass. Nothing good ever came from distracting you with puppies and asking personal questions. So, when the interviewer innocently asked your celebrity crush, you didn’t hesitate to say Drew Starkey. It didn’t hit you until afterward, sitting in the back of your car, debriefing with your assistant. 

“I can’t believe you said your celebrity crush though,” she said, eyebrows raised. Your heart stutters a bit and you quickly whip your head towards her. 

“No I didn’t.” 

“Um…yeah, you did.” Panic spiked through your veins, sweat beading on your brow. 

“Oh shit. Oh shit! Amara, tell me I didn’t say who I’m thinking of,” you grip her arm tightly, eyes pleading. Amara winces and looks at you with what could only be pity. “No!” 

Madelyn was going to kill you. 

You met Madelyn Cline a few months ago at the People’s Choice Awards when you were presenting. You’d instantly clicked and made plans to hang out the next week. Everything was going really great, and you were doing a good job at keeping your little crush a secret. Now, it’ll come out, be circulated everywhere online, and Madelyn’s going to think you’re some crazy stalker. How would she react to you having a crush on her co-star? Definitely not well. 

Amara places a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “It’s okay, Y/N, it’s just a silly interview. Nobody will take it seriously.” 

“Everyone will take it seriously! I don’t know why I started fraternizing with actors, I need to stick to my lane.” 

“Hey, why don’t you write a song about it? It might help.” You thought about it for a moment, feeling the familiar bubble of lyrics tickling the back of your mind. Writing always helps you calm down, maybe putting the feelings on paper would make them go away. 

As the car stopped in front of your hotel, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras were bright even through the tinted windows. You sigh and grab a jacket, wrapping it around your head like a shield, and wait for security to open the door. You ignore the loud shouting as you dash inside, closely followed by Amara and the rest of the crew. Inside isn’t much better, but at least the other guests have the decency to leave you alone for now. 

You sometimes feel bad, often making it up later by signing a bunch of autographs outside, but right now you’re exhausted and embarrassed. The interview threw off your whole day, and you just want to lay in bed and watch trashy reality television. 

Your security escorts you to the elevator, and then does a sweep of your room before eventually leaving. Finally alone, you put on your rattiest and comfiest pajamas, take off all your makeup, and throw your hair up before jumping in bed. You reach for the remote to start your aforementioned binge, but hesitate over the little purple notebook you carry everywhere. Sighing, you know you won’t be able to relax without getting it all out. You dig through your bag and find a glittery pink pen, uncapping it with your teeth and getting to work. 

You’ve never met Drew, not once, but something about him just had you giggling like a schoolgirl. Witnessing his kindness through your constant internet stalking quickly proved to be a bad idea, because now you have a big fat crush on the man and he doesn’t even know you exist. 

Well that’s not true. Everyone knows you exist, but he would never think of you that way. Dating as a popular musician was not as easy as one might think, it’s often too much for people. The words start flowing with ease, filling up the cream pages in no time. 

Gleaming

Twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in

His eyes really are beautiful. So blue, so warm. But the feelings you have aren’t logical, and they’re so exhausting. 

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

He’s the internet's boyfriend right now, edits flying around like crazy. You know dozens of people back home who are definitely salivating over this man. Something about him…you can’t put your finger on it. 

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

Every silly thought you’d ever had poured out onto the page. By the time you were finished you knew it was a hit. Grabbing your guitar you make a split second decision to tease your fans a bit. Unlocking your phone, you quickly open Instagram and go live before you can stop yourself. Your face pops up on the screen, thousands of people already in and commenting. 

“Hey guys! I just finished a new song and wanted to play a little for you if that’s alright?” You smirk, knowing the answer already. Of course, everyone starts freaking out and flooding the comments with different affirmations and emojis. You laugh, loving every second of it, before strumming the beginning chords on your guitar. 

As you start singing you let your eyes close, feeling each note in your soul, pressing every callus on your worn fingertips. The pacing is a little rough, still getting the hang of the new melody, but you know as soon as you finish that you killed it. So many fans are expressing their love for the song, already asking for it to be out on streaming platforms. Others are curious as to who your muse is, throwing out the wildest guesses you’d ever seen. 

“Chace Crawford?!” you exclaim, face contorted in surprise. “Y’all have a distorted sense of my ability to pull these men,” you laugh in disbelief. Your heart skips a beat when a couple comments actually guess correctly, but don’t react, knowing every single microexpression is analyzed. 

“Alright guys, I think I’m going to eat myself into a sugar coma while watching Love Island, but thank you for listening! I’m glad you enjoyed the song,” you wink to the camera before waving and closing the app. Covering your face with your hands, you fall backwards on the bed, letting your guitar rest beside you. You don’t even want to check social media, already knowing screen recordings of the live will be everywhere. 

Sometimes it’s crazy to think this many people care about your day to day life. The art you create touches lives across the globe. It’s both amazing and terrifying at the same time. 

Not wanting to start an existential crisis on a random Tuesday night, you quickly turn on your show and cuddle up under the duvet. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

By the weekend the interview was everywhere. You’ve stayed out of it, going pretty much radio silent in response. Many are asking if you’re secretly dating, if you were going to write a song for the new season of Outer Banks, if Drew felt the same way…it’s insane. 

You’d purposely put off talking to Madelyn out of sheer embarrassment. That man was like her brother and you admitted to liking him. Still, it’s time to address the issue head on, so you dial her number shakily. The phone rings three times before she answers, a sweet greeting sounding through the speakers. 

“Y/N?” You clear your throat, reluctant to speak. 

“Hey…” You wince at how rough your voice sounds, facepalming at your own awkwardness. 

“What’s up, girl?” Madelyn sounds normal, but you know she has to be weirded out by you. 

“Um, nothing much, just wanted to talk to you about something I may have said recently.” 

“Is this about the puppy interview?” 

“Yes?” Your voice comes out squeaky, nose scrunched. But Madelyn just starts laughing. You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell?

“I can’t believe you finally admitted it, and during an interview? That was ballsy as hell!” You slowly start to regain your breath, brain processing her words. 

“You’re not mad?” 

“Why would I be mad?” she snorts.

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you to get to him.”

“Are you?” 

“No! Of course not!” 

“Okay then, there’s no problem.” A breath of relief escapes, and you put a hand on your chest. She’s not mad. 

“Thank you so much for understanding, I really love our friendship.” 

“Me too,” Mads says sincerely. “Now we just have to figure out how to get you two together!” 

Your eyes widen. “What? Absolutely not. This was not an invitation for you to play matchmaker, Mads.”

“Aw man, why not? I could literally get you both in the same room tonight.” Your heart starts beating out of your chest, feeling more anxiety talking about this than being on any stage.

“He’s probably seen the interview by now, it’s so embarrassing!” 

“It’s not embarrassing, Y/N. You’re attracted to the man, it’s not that crazy of a concept! Just give me a chance, please?” 

“Nope. I don’t want to bother him or weird him out. Let’s just do something me and you; are you in L.A.?” 

“Ugh, fine. Yes I’m here, just come over whenever.” You can feel her annoyance across the line, but ignore it. You’re not going to let her meddle. 

“See you then!” Mads ends the call, sending you back into your shame spiral. Every little thing you do is always picked apart and ridiculed in the media, and you’re usually a lot more careful with what you say. The interview slip up is going to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. 

Hours pass waiting for the appropriate time to head over to Madelyn’s house. You decide to dress comfortably, but have your makeup done on the off chance pictures are taken. The drive over is quiet, save for the initial crowd outside your house. How it’s legal for celebrities' addresses to be available on the internet, is something you’ll never understand. 

When you pull up you notice a Jeep in her driveway and shake your head. That girl is always spending money. Your phone pings with yet another Twitter update and you roll your eyes. How can this be the most popular thing in the world right now? You glance at the notification and see it’s Drew’s name that’s trending. Huh. Interesting. 

You decide to follow your instincts and ignore it, wanting to focus on girls night with Mads. As you approach the porch you find yourself nervous; even though she wasn’t mad, you still feel bad for causing such an uproar around her co-star. 

Three knocks later you're waiting outside her front door in anticipation. You find yourself shifting from foot to foot, tracing the cracks in the stonework with your eyes. When the door opens you look up with a smile, expecting Madelyn’s smiling face, only to be met with the very man that had haunted you the past week. You gasp, words catching in your throat as you stare. 

Drew was wearing a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair looked freshly cut into a soft mullet, and he looked just as surprised as you do. You can’t seem to close your gaping mouth, a pained sound escaping without realizing. 

“Uh, hi,” Drew says sheepishly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Eyes wide, you turn on your heel and speed walk away, leaving him alone in the doorway. You’re fumbling with your keys, cursing under your breath, when you hear a shout from behind you. 

“Y/N!” 

You almost make it inside your car when an iron grip latches onto your upper arm, yanking you back. 

“Hey!” you protest, almost losing your balance as you’re dragged back to Mads’ house. 

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting away that easily.” 

“Madelyn Renee Cline, let me go!” You struggle against her grip, but only cause her nails to dig in deeper. 

“You’re not leaving, Y/N, I won’t let you.” She finally stops when you’re once again at the door, but she doesn’t let go. Drew must’ve gone back inside, thank God, but Madelyn is glaring at you. 

“Don’t look at me like that! How could you do this to me?” You give her your most withering look. She rolls her eyes at you, only pissing you off more. 

“Just talk to him. I promise he doesn’t think you’re weird, or whatever you’ve concocted.”

“Well he might now!” 

“That’s your own fault, I can’t believe you ran away,” she snickers, pulling you inside and closing the door. When she finally lets go of your arm, you rub the crescent indentions with a wince. The girl has some nails. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” Mads looks taken aback, freezing in place. 

“Really?!” You give her a pointed look. “Right, be cool. Okay come on follow me, he went back to the living room.” Reluctantly, you do just that, trailing closely behind her. You’re a ball of nerves, and can already feel your stomach twisting to knots. 

Madelyn was right, he was lounging on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. When he hears you two approach, his head shoots up and his back immediately straightens.

“Everything okay?” he asks, voice smooth and melodic. Your cheeks warm, and you avoid eye contact as much as possible. 

“Um, yeah. I just–you know.” You jab your thumb back awkwardly, not even you know what you’re trying to say. But Drew cracks a smile, looking at you fondly and nodding along, as if you make perfect sense. 

Madelyn’s eyes flit between you with a wide smile on her face. Not knowing what else to do, you sit down on the couch, as far away from him as possible, and stare straight ahead. Silence ensues, and you have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. Thankfully, Madelyn breaks the silence. 

“So…want to watch a movie?” 

“Yes!” You and Drew speak at the same time, causing you to stare at each other shyly. Madelyn smirks and comes around the couch, forcefully sitting between you and the arm rest. You shoot her a what the fuck look and she simply shrugs. 

“I like the armrest! Scooch.” Begrudgingly, you inch closer to Drew, who pretends not to notice the entire exchange. As soon as you're settled you sit pin straight, not wanting to breach the confines of your cushion. Drew’s left ankle is resting comfortably on his knee, arm thrown over the side of the couch in what seems to be a very relaxing position. Mads rolls her eyes and pulls out an ottoman, giving you something to stretch your feet out on so you can lean back. 

It takes forever to pick a movie, suspiciously so, but it’s Madelyn’s house and you’re not going to say anything. Once she finally picks Avatar, she dims the lights from her phone and the three of you settle in for what’s going to be a weird couple hours. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Everything was going fine, until suddenly Madelyn got tired at nine and decided to go to bed…leaving you and Drew alone. You mentally cursed your friend for putting you in this position, obviously not listening to the blanket “no matchmaking” statement from before. 

You glance at him from the corner of your eye and find him already looking at you. He quickly looked away and started tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. The movie had long since been forgotten and no words had been exchanged. 

“So…” you manage, turning to face him slowly. He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair and making his bicep flex. Your stomach does a little flip flop and your face reddens at where your mind went. Drew smirks like he knows exactly what just happened, but doesn’t comment. 

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice, oh my God. “I’m Drew, it’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand to shake, and you clumsily take it, feeling the warmth envelop your palm immediately. 

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, swallowing the anxiety. 

“I’m a fan of your work, actually, you’re really good.” 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “You listen to my songs?” Drew laughs and shakes his head, shooting you a look you don’t quite understand. 

“Are you being serious?” he leans forward a bit, surprise evident on his face. You scrunch your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re easily the most popular musician of our generation and you don’t think I listen to your music?” You find yourself blushing, and a little flustered. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say the most popular…I have quite a few fans, sure, but not everyone vibes with all types of music. I don’t really know what you listen to, and I didn't want to assume anything.” Drew looks you up and down, seeming to size you up. 

“You’re not at all what I expected, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“And what did you expect, Drew Starkey?” 

“Well, I don’t know to be honest, but you’re surprisingly humble for someone as successful as you.” You had actually gotten that a lot, although you didn’t think it was being humble so much as being a decent person. You’re still just the girl who grew up in a perfectly normal town, with normal loving parents and a wonderful home. Just because you make popular music doesn’t mean you’ve changed at all. Plus, you know it could all go away with the snap of your fingers. 

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just like everyone else,” you shrug. 

“I beg to differ. You’re…extraordinary. You have to know that?” There goes that damn stomach flip again. 

“Thank you,” you look down at your lap. “I could say the same for you. I love your projects.” His eyes light up at the mention of his work, making you smile in turn. 

“Thank you! I love everything I’ve been a part of, especially OBX. I met my second family on that set, you know?” You didn’t know, actually. Being on the road all the time meant limited options for friendships, and no time for the ones you did manage to keep. Mads is the first girlfriend other than Amara–who you employ–you’ve had in years. 

“Yeah, I love Mads already. I can’t imagine how fun it must be getting to work with your best friends every day…” your voice trails off. Drew seems to notice your shift in mood and decides to change the subject. 

“Hey, why don’t you play me something?” 

You immediately freeze. “What?” Drew smiles and stands up, searching for something. He disappears in the hallway before emerging a minute later with a beautiful acoustic guitar in his hands. You immediately feel a pull to grab it and start playing, but are still confused. 

“Here,” he hands it to you. “I want you to play me something…something nobody has heard yet.” You immediately start racking your brain and decide to take a leap and play something that could get you in trouble. 

“Um…okay. This is something I was actually working on today. It’s not finished but I can play a little.” You nervously pick up the guitar, but immediately relax when you feel the rough strings beneath your fingers. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to forget the gorgeous man in front of you. 

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream

It's like a million little stars spelling out your name

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You manage to take a peek at him while you strum, catching him totally entranced by the sound of your voice. A little confidence boost flows through you as you continue the song. 

But you're untouchable, burning brighter than the sun

And now that you're close I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, we can form this dream

I wanna feel you by my side, standing next to me

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You strum a few more chords before stopping, silently waiting for his reaction. He’s staring at you, mouth parted slightly. 

“Another,” he whispers. Surprised, you do what he asks, pulling another unfinished song from the vault in your mind. This one wasn’t about him, not like the last one, but it still applies. 

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

You hum for a little longer, this song actually being one of your favorites. Drew is starstruck, an unknown look on his face the whole time. He seems to snap out of it and clears his throat. 

“Wow, Y/N. You’re amazing…those were amazing. Were they about anyone in particular?” You internally panic, because duh. But you don’t want to weird him out. 

“Um, the first one was,” you whisper, avoiding eye contact. You feel the couch move, and look up to find Drew right beside you. His leg was flush with yours, and he was so close you could see each and every freckle splashed across his cheeks. You also notice his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly when he smiles. 

“Can I confess something?” he says softly. You don’t trust your voice, so you nod once. “I saw your interview.” Immediately, the embarrassment causes your face to turn into a tomato. 

“Uh–about that…I–” You don’t really have an explanation, but you scramble for one anyway. Drew chuckles and grabs your hand, effectively stopping your rambling and making you redder at the same time. 

“Y/N you don’t have to be embarrassed. Did you see my interview?” What interview?

“No? I didn’t know you did one. Should I have?” He squeezes your hand gently and his eyes bore into yours. 

“It would’ve made this a lot easier,” he jokes. “They asked for my response to being your celebrity crush.” Fuck. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause drama for you.” 

“You didn’t, I promise. But do you know what my response was?” You shake your head. He hesitates for a moment before grinning, almost shy. “I said that’s a crazy coincidence because you’re my celebrity crush.” Hold the fucking phone, did he just say what you think he said?

“What?” 

“I think you’re beautiful, talented, kind, and I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t think it was even in my realm of possibilities. Then you befriended Mads, and I thought maybe I had a chance…” Your brain must be short circuiting, because no way in hell Drew Starkey just said the feelings are mutual.

“Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Oh? That’s it?” he smiles, intertwining your fingers. 

“I’m honestly so surprised right now, I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say you don’t think I’m a weirdo.”

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo,” you shake your head. 

“Say you’ll go out with me?” his pitch rises with uncertainty, looking nervous for your response. 

“I will definitely go out with you.” Relief floods his features and he tugs you closer, pulling your legs on top of his. 

“That was terrifying,” he says, massaging your calf. 

“I still cannot believe this is happening right now,” you tell him honestly. 

He smirks, leaning in close. “Believe it, baby.” Your heart skips a beat, mind going blank momentarily. 

“I think I owe Mads a thank you,” you giggle. 

“Fuck that, I’m sending her a damn gift basket.” 

“You’re so right, she’s getting an album dedication from me,” you joke, causing Drew to poke you in the ribs. 

“Hey, no fair. She’s going to like that so much more!” he whines. You can already see yourself falling head over heels in love with this man, and that scares you more than anything. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” you hold your hands up in defense while Drew rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s just watch another movie.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” you hear from behind the couch. The two of you immediately jump, scared out of your minds, until you realize it’s just Madelyn creeping in the hallway. 

“What the fuck?!” Drew yells, clutching his heart dramatically. 

“You were supposed to be asleep!” You cross your arms, glaring at your blonde counterpart. She sucks her teeth and shrugs, walking over and plopping down on the couch.

“What can I say, somebody had to get you two together.” You share a look with Drew, both of you simultaneously not surprised, but exasperated by her little games. 

“You’re insane,” Drew tells her, taking his spot back on the couch and throwing a pillow at her head.

“It worked didn’t it?” 

Yeah. You thought. It really did. 

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

REC LIST NUMBER 7! I’m finally home so I can finally share with you the over three months worth of Buddie fics that I have read to keep me sane while I was traveling around the UK.  As always, please show these authors some love in their comments xx Find my other Buddie Rec Lists HERE

REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

What's Easy is Right by @half_bakedboy | G | 18k

Buck romances Eddie the way that he deserves. It was so refreshing to read a fic like this where everything just goes right for them. They just get to fall in love and be happy without any conflict or "big bad thing" arising. They were allowed to just be in love and happy and I love that so much <3

my man says he loves me (never says he loves me not) by @colonoscopys | G | 1.9k

Buck and Eddie unknowingly commiserate with each other through a website entitled: inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com! This fic is absolutely incredible. I could literally cry, it's so good!!

loves a game, wanna play? by @exhuastedpigeon | M | 57k

Love Island AU. In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together. I have never watched Love Island, or ever wanted to, but if this fic was a real season I would EAT. IT. UP!

Eddie vs Romance by @littlespoonevan | T | 27k

This lovely two-part series in which Eddie does a lot of self-learning and then gets romanced as he deserves. 

Too Often the Power of Touch is Underestimated by @xjustlikeyou | T | 15k

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. I have no words to describe how wholly and profoundly perfect this fic is to me. This is THEE Buddie touch-centric w/ pining Eddie fic of all time!

Until the Dancing Ends by @phoenix-angel-suyari  | G | 4k

Eddie finally sees footage of Buck's reaction to him getting buried in the well and Eddie reacts proportionately by kissing him in front of everyone. So, so good!

i'm here with the door wide open by @eddiebabygirldiaz| T | 24k

Eddie copes with the absence of Chris but also the presence of Buck. I adore this fic, Eddie finally learning to allow himself to feel things and to accept that he deserves to love and be loved in return and that what he feels for Buck doesn't need to be stamped down and hidden. The ending is so beautifully soft too! 

you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in) by @sibylsleaves | E | 24k 

Buck breaks up with Taylor, moves out of the loft and in with Eddie. Let the Buddie Roommates and Pining Era begin! As all of Sibyl’s fics are this is just incredible and I devoured it!

the tortured poets department by @colonoscopys | E | 18k 

The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up AKA Eddie has magic and a lot of complicated feelings about his best friend.

there ain't no turning back by @42hrb | E | 28k

After dropping Chris off at College, Eddie begins his journey home only Buck to fly out to crash his Sad Dad Cross Country Road Trip™. This fic made me feel a hundred billion emotions so strongly. Incredible.

Hot Ghost Problems by @ebjameston | T | 40k 

Not Actually Dead™ Ghost!Buck and Witch!Eddie. This fic is actually incredible! 10/10. Five Stars.

Season of Hope (After the Flood) by @saryasy | T | 58k

Eddie learns a lot about himself while waiting for his son to come home. The pinning and beautiful, KARENEDDIE BESTIE-ISM FOR THE WIN! And a beautiful tender happy ending xx 

the going water and the gone by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 31k

Eddie Diaz presumed dead? Again? More likely than you think. I live for these sorts of fics and this one set Post Cruise Ship is so good!! 

come and be my baby by @colonoscopys | T | 21k

What is Buck and Eddie got together in season 2? This made me laugh and cry and feel all kinds of emotions and it's just so beautiful!!!!!!!

ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies | T | 58k

This fic really doesn’t need any introduction because I think we are all obsessed. GIRL UNCLE!EDDIE + ICE CREAM TUESDAYS ❤️

bottle episode by @transboybuckley | T & E | 14k

The 118 has a 24-hour shift, and zero calls. The softest bottle episode, full of Firefam love, Buddie, and which is somehow also about crying over trees.

when everything's on fire by @glowingyears | T | 15k

Eddie and Chris move into the loft with Buck after a house fire and then they buy a house together. SO COZY SO LOVELY THERE IS JUST SO MUCH LOVE IN THIS FIC.

From the Ground Up by @blueberrytwoberry | M | 17k

Eddie finds a massive dog on his porch and can’t seems to get rid of it. THE DOG IS BUCK! BUCK IS A DOG! DOG BUCK! 

cold rain, warm skin by @gayhoediaz | T | 2.5k

Just the softest coziest morning kisses ever known to man <3

death wish love by @eddiebabygirldiaz | E | 15k

After his break up with Tommy, Buck goes to Eddie's, he wakes up the next morning only to be pummeled by his hangover and his attraction to Eddie. No words can possibly describe the soft comfortable and loving cocoon that this fic creates.

We Both Go Down Together by @xylodemon | T | 4k

A near death/drowning experience, a love confession and hospital pronounced husbands, what's not to love!?!

[ssa-dado]

The Ship of Theseus (prelude)

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (?), pining - I really do suck at tagging Summary: Never fuck your boss. Never fuck your best friend. And definitely never fuck Aaron Hotchner. But you did anyways. And now you’re left with the post-coital edition of Mr. Practical and all the messy aftermath that came with it. And a makeout too. Apparently the big scary man fell asleep right into your arms. Warnings: It's mentioned that they fucked. Whoops. IDK. In doubt - +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. No actual smut, but it's STEAMYYYYY... way too suggestive. Also, some cuss words here and there. Hotch being a softie. Word Count: 4.1k Dado's Corner: It’s a Chekhov’s gun of Ethics but without the actual gun… unless, of course, we’re talking about Aaron’s GUNSHOTS - oh, wait, there it is! The gun! Aaron’s thick, throbbing GUNSHOTS - oh shit, that’s so cool

masterlist

If there was ever an Olympic event for post-coital efficiency, your dearest friend – and funnily enough – your boss Aaron Hotchner would be taking home the gold.

Truly, what a sight to behold.

One moment, he was wrecking you within an inch of your sanity, and the next - barely a minute later - him and his ridiculously long legs were back in your bedroom, carrying a towel in one hand, a damp washcloth in the other, like the world’s most disciplined housekeeper.

So proper, so effortlessly composed, even now.

Because of course Aaron Hotchner - former prosecutor, Unit Chief, insufferable neat freak - would handle post-coital cleanup like it was just another task on meticulously organized, color-coded to-do list.

Sex: Completed (highly successful, performance rating: exemplary)

Orgasm(s): Confirmed (3, official review pending, though “best orgasm of my life” was strongly implied)

Post-coital hydration: Pending (but water bottle is within retrieval distance)

Aftercare protocol: Initiated (warm washcloth acquired, towel deployment imminent)

Debriefing & emotional processing: Ongoing (mission parameters unclear, subject remains evasive yet sarcastic)

Sheets: Ruined (replacement required, but can be postponed in favor of further activity)

Boss/subordinate ethical violation acknowledgment: Not yet addressed, deliberately ignored

Cuddling: Proposal under review (high-risk scenario)

Exit strategy: TBD (complications may include the inability to leave this bed for the foreseeable future)

And, obviously, you could not let him get away with that.

"Look at you, being all domesticated," you teased, propping yourself up slightly as he walked over.

"Someone has to take care of you," he shot back smoothly, dropping the towel onto the bed and kneeling beside you like this was normal.

Like you weren’t both still bare, still caught in the strange, floating space that existed after.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

The teasing - the constant, insufferable push and pull - was easy. That was your rhythm. That was safe. But this was something else entirely.

Something that left you both a little flustered, a little unsteady.

Even you - you, who could talk your way out of anything, who thrived on throwing him off - found yourself at a loss, your mouth opening, reaching for something to say, for anything that would keep this from feeling like more than what it was.

But then he touched you.

Pressed the warm cloth to your skin with so much care, with so much intent, and whatever sarcastic remark had been forming on your tongue just evaporated.

It wasn’t fair how tender he could be, how his hands - capable of so much control, so much discipline - could be this gentle, this careful. On you.

"You don’t have to do that," you murmured, breathless and barely audible.

"I know," he said simply, his gaze flicking up just long enough to see you before returning to his task. "But I want to."

So you let him. Let him take care of you.

Let yourself watch him, tracing the way his thick brows furrowed with concentration because he wanted to get it just right, the way his jaw tensed and relaxed as he worked, annoyingly meticulous, like this was just as important as everything that had come before it.

Gentle. Steady. Intimate. Intentional.

In a way that made your chest ache.

In a way that made you terrified of what it meant - now that the lust had passed, now that you were both just... here, bare, with nothing but each other.

And especially when he started pressing slow, lazy kisses along your knee, your already-marked thigh, your hip - like he needed to, like he couldn’t help himself, like he wanted to remind you that he had been there, that you were safe with him, even now.

Every second was more devastating than the last.

When he finished, he set the towel aside and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a beat, then another, then another, until he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.

"There," he murmured, lips still brushing against your skin. "All set."

You shook your head, forcing a smile, forcing yourself back to safer ground. "So thorough, Hotchner. Truly, I’m impressed."

His mouth quirked, but apparently, he wasn’t done being insufferably tender, kissing your cheek up next. Wasn’t he just adorable?!

"I aim to please," it was so utterly him it made your stomach flip, but not even more Aaron Hotchner than when, suddenly, he was back to bossing you around in your own home.

"Now, we change the bedsheets, take a shower, and then I’ll see you back here so we-"

And then he stopped. Oh no. Cat got your tongue, bossman?

"We what?" you prompted, raising an eyebrow, watching with unholy satisfaction as the tips of his ears turned red.

He cleared his throat, hesitated in a way that was so unlike him it almost hurt to witness."We… could cuddle. If you want. Or talk. Or whatever you want to do, really. No pressure. I can leave, all you have to do is tell me."

The longer he spoke, the redder he got, his words tripping over themselves, and honestly, it was taking everything in you not to burst out laughing right in front of him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" you said instead, leaning in to press a kiss to his flushed cheek, hopefully to calm him down – or at least that was your excuse. "Big, scary Aaron Hotchner, suggesting cuddling in the same breath as ‘no pressure.’"

You mocked him, because humbling him was your second nature, and judging by the glare he was giving you, you were winning yet another round. Still, you didn’t want him to just leave. That much was obvious.

He exhaled slowly, gaze steady. "So… what do you want?"

You pretended to think about it, dragging it out just to see that little furrow in his brow deepen.

"Well, I suppose I could settle for cuddling… " you mused, letting your fingers ghost along his shoulders, "but only if you’re the little spoon."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Little spoon?"

Oh, wasn’t it just glorious. 2-0

"My house, my rules," you said smugly. "If you don’t like it, next time we’ll do it at your place, and you can do whatever you want."

And the second the words left your mouth, you definitely wanted to die.

Next time.

As if this was a thing. As if you had even talked about what it was, what this meant. As if you had acknowledged that what you’d just done was completely, wildly, against every rule in the protocol - and common sense as well.

Especially because he was your boss.

"I’m joking, of course," you backtracked quickly, though you felt the heat creeping up your neck.

"Of course," he echoed, but there was something in his expression, something behind his eyes that said he wasn’t entirely convinced, probably because he caught you with your hands in the cookie jar. "This was…"

Great. The talk.

"An accident," you supplied.

"Against protocol," he continued.

No shit, Sherlock.

"Because you’re my boss-"

"We work together," he chimed in, but his voice was softer now, trailing.

"Could cost us our careers," you pointed out, waiting for him to acknowledge it, to confirm the obvious.

"When there’s a pattern of offending behavior," he murmured, almost to himself, slipping into technicalities - because of course he would.

But then - he smirked. Just the slightest tilt of his lips, still – he smirked.

Oh.

And that could only mean one thing.

"A pattern," you echoed, watching him carefully.

And just like that, because he was only a man - logical, brilliant, but still just a man - he reached the same inevitable conclusion you had, just a breath later.

His fingers found yours, intertwining, and it was stupid how calming that simple gesture was.

Or maybe it wasn’t the touch itself but the truth laced between your hands.

Or maybe both.

Or maybe it was just this - how the whole conversation had shifted without either of you stopping it.

It didn’t mean you wouldn’t push and pull anymore. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t still play cat and mouse. You would. Just differently now. With your lips on the other’s skin instead of just grazing the air.

"We’re very good at patterns," he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, pressing a kiss there.

"At recognizing patterns," you corrected, your breath hitching as you tilted your head, catching the corner of his mouth with yours.

"What is a pattern, after all?" His lips moved along your cheek, his hands sliding up your spine, settling against your back.

"A repetition," you answered, barely above a whisper, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear.

"A repetition," he echoed, voice rasping, pressing one to the curve of your jaw.

"Exactly that." You murmured as your fingers traced patterns over his bare shoulders.

"Depending on a series of factors," he continued, shifting slightly, pressing another kiss to your collarbone.

"Such as…?" You exhaled against the bruise you left on his throat.

"Subjects involved," he murmured.

"Location," you supplied.

"A very important factor," he agreed, flashing his intoxicating dimples, nudging his nose against yours.

"Fundamental in analysis," you teased, smiling against his lips.

"If the location changes," he murmured, pausing just long enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, "the recognition of the pattern could be…"

You barely heard him, too focused on the way his breath ghosted over your skin, but still - hearing him talk like that, with his voice all low and thoughtful and dangerous, made you shiver.

"Devious," you countered, barely referring to legal theory anymore.

No, he was devious - the way his mouth was just barely touching yours, his hands skimming your sides like he wanted to devour you but was forcing himself to behave.

You've had enough. You tilted your head, catching his lips in a kiss, cutting off whatever legal analysis he thought he was about to give.

"Faulted," he corrected, the words slipping straight into your mouth, delivered onto your tongue by his, deepening the kiss without hesitation.

"You can never be sure…" your voice faltered, swallowed by the way he pulled you flush against his bare body, his fingers digging into the skin of your lower back.

"…if it’s the same pattern," he finished for you, just before his teeth caught your bottom lip, just hard enough to make you gasp.

"Or a copycat," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, feeling completely dizzy, straight-up autopilot - you barely even knew what you’d just said.

Judging by the way he chuckled, though, it was probably nonsense.

No, definitely ridiculous, because now he was repeating it back to you, still grinning, "…A copycat? You’re crazy."

Still, he never looked away.

Right… you definitely weren’t exactly talking about unsubs now.

"So one single act can still be admissible?" you asked, fingers idly tracing over his cheek.

"It was just a little lapse in judgment," he chuckled, but you could already feel the gears turning in that brilliant lawyer’s mind, already bending the rules in real time, looking for the inevitable loophole in the very system you both swore by.

"...At your place," he added, like that alone made all the difference. "And that’s just one location."

You smirked. "Not your apartment."

"To be precise," he murmured, his mouth brushing over yours, "it was just your bed… which means that technically-"

"Technically", you could still fuck each other everywhere else.

"Oh, I love the way your brain works…" you hummed, punctuating your words with another kiss, this time against the sharp line of his jaw. "So… not the shower."

And just like that, it became a game.

A list. A reckless, bucket list.

"The desk," he murmured, and fuck, you had to squeeze your thighs together at that one, trying so hard not to let your brain go there - not to picture which specific desk you wanted him to bend you over, not to imagine the feel of his hands gripping your hips, his voice low in your ear, telling you to keep quiet.

Definitely not the one in his office. No. That would be unethical.

"The kitchen counter," you whispered, voice already a little breathless.

"The floor," he added, lips dragging just beneath your ear, voice husky, teasing, unfair.

"Of all the rooms in this apartment…" you trailed off, tilting his chin just slightly so you could press a slow kiss right between his brows, smoothing away the tiny crease there.

"The couch," he murmured. Low blow.

You bit your lip, because that wasn’t fair, because now all you could think about was straddling his lap, sinking down onto him, rolling your hips while his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, holding you in place, watching you come undone.

You had never wanted to ride a man so badly in your life.

"Against the front door," you suggested next

“The armchair” he added, and okay - so he really wanted you to ride him. Noted.

"The stairs," you countered, throwing something ridiculous just to regain some control.

"We don’t have stairs," he said, lips curving against your skin.

"Fine," you huffed. "The car."

"Backseat or front?" he asked, way too inclined to indulge in your proposal.

"Front if I’m driving," you mused.

He groaned at that, and you took the opportunity to press your advantage, brushing your lips over his throat, smirking against his skin as you felt something become quite… hard.

"My bed," he rasped suddenly, and damn, you knew you were done for the second those words left his mouth.

Because that - that was dangerous. The thought of being wrapped in sheets that smelled like him, tangled up in his warmth, surrounded by the scent of sex and sweat and that insufferable, frustratingly attractive man…

You would not survive it.

"The elevator," you rasped before you could stop yourself.

And that was when he froze - for half a second, you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you. And then-

"Jesus Christ."

"I don’t think that one’s possible, Hotchner.."

Still, his mouth parted, his pupils blown so wide there was barely any brown left, and for a second, you genuinely thought he was about to die right then and there. Would’ve been tragic, really - death by horny legal loopholes debate.

Explain that to Erin Strauss...

But then he groaned, deep and wrecked, dropping his face into your neck like he needed a moment to recover. Maybe he wasn’t going to die just yet.

"The elevator?" he muttered against your skin, muffled, bewildered, like he couldn’t quite believe he was having this conversation.

"The elevator," you confirmed, absolutely shameless.

"Jesus."

"I’d prefer it be just the two of us, if that’s not a problem for you," you deadpanned.

He let out a deep, suffering sigh against your neck, like he was physically restraining himself from debating elevator logistics.

"I don’t even know what to do with you," he muttered.

"I have some ideas."

He exhaled, then lifted his head just enough to look you dead in the eye. "We are never having sex in an elevator."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"That sounds like a lawsuit," he corrected, still so visibly distressed that you could not stop laughing.

"Thought you used to be a good lawyer, Hotchner," you teased, your fingers dragging lazily along his spine. "Wouldn't you know your way around a legal loophole?"

"Oh, I do," he sighed. "I also know how to avoid federal charges."

"You’re truly a prude."

"You're truly reckless," he shot back, eyes closed, mentally revisiting every questionable decision he’d made in the last hour… or maybe the last two…

Honestly, who was even keeping track at this point?

You smirked, shifting until you were draped half over his chest, resting your chin on your folded arms as you gazed at him. "Oh, c'mon, Hotchner, live a little."

His eyes opened just enough to give you a look.

You huffed. "Okay, okay, fine. No elevators. If you really wanna be lame about it."

"Thank you," he said flatly.

A pause. Then, you couldn’t help it. "The jet."

His entire body went rigid. You swore you felt his soul attempt to leave his body.

"The jet?" he repeated, voice hoarse.

You nodded sagely. "The jet."

"Oh my God."

You grinned, slow and so wicked. "Can you imagine it?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Small, enclosed space-" you started.

"Oh my God."

"-turbulence, you pinning me against the-"

"No." He cut you off.

You cackled, absolutely delighted by his suffering.

"The team is on that jet," he tried to argue.

"Not always," you countered, “sometimes Strauss is there too.”

His entire face drained of color. For a solid three seconds, he just stared at you, mouth slightly parted, horror creeping into his very being.

"Get out."

You wheezed, collapsing against his chest, “Of my bedroom?! You can’t really dismiss me here unfortunately for you.”

"I don’t ever want to hear the words sex and Strauss in the same sentence again," he grumbled.

"I believe you just said them yourself, Hotchner"

A slow blink. A deep sigh. He was so close to reconsidering every single choice that had led him to this moment.

And yet-

Instead of answering, he just exhaled, letting his weight sink into you, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder like admitting defeat.

Because you both knew exactly what this was.

A game.

A flimsy, shameless, beautiful excuse to keep doing this - to keep falling into each other, to keep breaking rules and bending logic, to keep pretending it wasn’t something more.

But neither of you said that.

Neither of you needed to.

Instead, you simply thrived in the ineffable, in the space where words didn’t need to be spoken. In the way his body melted on top of yours, drawn to you despite himself, despite the attitude, despite everything.

Because with you, he could just be.

Simply, truly, exist in his truth.

Not Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Not the unshakable leader, not the man who carried the weight of everyone else’s burdens on his back, never allowing himself to falter.

Just Aaron.

The six-foot-two little spoon who swore he wouldn’t be, yet here he was, folded into you like he’d never belonged anywhere else, all because you’d jokingly set it as a condition for him to breathe this close to you.

At least, that’s what you told him.

But in reality a part of you wanted this.

A part of you wanted the man who always stayed close – from the victims, to the UnSubs, and everyone he cared about, always making sure he was the one who bore the weight so no one else had to - to have someone stay close for him.

To let him know what it felt like to be held.

Because the thought had been lingering at the edges of your mind for far too long now - unwelcome, unavoidable -

If he was there to protect everyone, who was there to protect him?

Not that you were volunteering. Not like that.

Actually if you said it out loud, he’d probably just laugh at you, and use that damned dry humor of his and tell you “How can you protect me if you can barely shoot?”

And you’d laugh, you’d tease him right back - and nothing would change.

But you knew the truth - you’d been his anchor for the past decade.

And so your fingers traced idle patterns along his back, thoughtlessly, feeling the tension unwind from his muscles, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

"You’re warm," he murmured after a while, rasping at the edges, making your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to think too hard about.

"You’re a bit heavy," you murmured, lips quirking slightly.

"Mhm." But he didn’t move, didn’t even try.

You smiled to yourself, dragging your fingers gently through his short hair, feeling the strands slip between them, coarse and slightly mussed.

"You don’t have to do that," he said softly against your skin.

"I know," you whispered, your hand still smoothing over his back, still holding him close, like you weren’t fooling either of you. "But I want to."

A pause. A deep breath.

Then-

"Thank you," he sighed, pressing a barely-there kiss to your shoulder, too tired to move, too tired to do anything but exist against you.

Just holding each other.

Just existing in the same space, in the same breath, with no expectations, no pressure, no future to consider beyond the feel of his heartbeat against yours.

"You know, there’s a philosophical dilemma called the Ship of Theseus-" you started, your voice a gentle hum in the quiet, earning a small huff from him in response.

"It questions whether an object remains fundamentally the same if all of its components are replaced over time. If every original part is gone, is it still the same thing? Because technically, it’s not… if identity is tied to its physical components and not something more abstract, like function or form."

You felt the slow, subtle curve of his lips against your shoulder.

"Which brings us to," you added, lips curving now too, " is this even the same bed if we just change the sheets? On some criteria, following this logic… it isn’t."

A beat.

No reply.

Just the steady, even sound of his breathing.

And - oh.

Oh.

He’d fallen asleep on you. Mid-philosophy. Unbelievable.

Great. So apparently, you were the boring one now. Perfect.

But before you could dwell too much on your bruised ego, he stirred, mumbling something barely coherent against your skin.

"Mmmh… we change the sheets… shower… come back here and-"

“’And’ what?” You sighed, your fingers still lazily running through his hair.  “Aaron, you sound like a low-battery version of yourself.” You huffed a laugh, shaking your head.

"M'practical," he slurred, as if that was a valid argument.

"You’re half-asleep."

"Still practical," he muttered.

"If you move, I’ll take care of the sheets. You go shower," you offered, voice quiet, fond.

He barely responded, just a low, unintelligible grumble against your collarbone before-

"Mm-mm… we don’t… shower together?”

You sighed. Of course that was where his sleepy brain went.

"Will we just shower?" you asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t have the energy for anything else.

A beat of silence.

Then, his voice barely above a whisper-

"What if we don’t?" he muttered, already half-asleep. "S’not against the rules…"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Aaron-"

"The ship… applies to your shower too…" his words trailed off lazily, completely nonsense, but you could hear the hint of a smile in them. "If you replace the soap… ‘s a different shower…"

Well, at least even in his on-the-brink-of-unconsciousness state, he was committed to following through with your logic...

"I’m saying this for your own good, Hotchner, because you really don’t have the energy for another round."

"I do," he grumbled, shifting, his arms tightening around you like you had to believe him.

"Sure," you murmured, kissing his forehead. "I’ll believe that when you make it to the bathroom without falling asleep in the doorway."

He made a low, unintelligible noise, like he wanted to argue, but his body had already betrayed him, too heavy, too settled against you.

"Go," you whispered, nudging him gently.

A deep sigh. Then-

"Fine."

He peeled himself off you with the effort of a man being dragged out of bed by force, his body moving like it was actively resisting him.

You bit back another laugh as he stumbled toward the bathroom, catching himself on the doorframe for just a second before disappearing inside.

And, of course-

When you finished your own shower and stepped quietly back into the bedroom, he was already collapsed against the bed, completely dead to the world.

Or so you thought.

Because the moment you eased yourself into bed, trying your best to be quiet, he shifted -

One sleepy, instinctive movement.

And suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you without thinking, his body curling into yours, his head tucking against the crook of your neck, snuggling.

Clingy.

"Annoying little spoon," you muttered.

You felt a muffled hum against your skin. "Next time… we switch."

You sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, letting your fingers drift through his hair one more time. "Go to sleep, Aaron."

He sighed against your skin, warm and content, the weight of him only settling deeper into you.

"Mmm. ‘M already sleepin’…" he murmured, words barely holding together.

A beat.

Then, even softer-

"You should too… two hours ‘til work."

Oh, he just could not help himself - spent a full minute reminding you, over and over, that you just fucked your boss.

Damn it, Aaron. At least he could try to pretend...

"Actually, it’s one and a half." you bit back.

A pause.

Then-

"Shit."

Shit indeed.

Phi's Corner: BOTTOM HOTCH RIGHTS!!!!!!!! Also don't worry filthy goyals, you will be fed with some actual smut tomorrow. And probably some context too... maybe?!?! hope you enjoyed this anyways...

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[dustmusings]

hey!! loved reading your fives and rex fics!! could i possibly maybe request a captain rex x reader where the reader is a jedi and she's ina. similar situation to the one ahsoka was in during the final season (order 66 scene)? eek ilysm

where trust falls apart

Rex x F!Reader / Jedi!Reader

word count: 4.6k

description: the end of the war is near, but when the clones turn on you, you come to understand that your hardship has only just begun

warnings/tags: angst! hurt/comfort, order 66, rex under the influence of the inhibitor chip, canon-typical violence, mention of the conspiracy arc, friends to lovers fluff at the end :)

a/n: hi anon ! thank you so much <3 I haven't written anything about order 66 yet so thanks for requesting, I hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for !

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

Looking out on the stars, you couldn’t help but muse on how the past few years, the years of your life that you had given to the war, were coming to a close.

There was something in the air, a feeling of calm, stillness, that felt oddly like being lulled into a false sense of security. The end of the war was nearing, everyone could feel it. Count Dooku had been defeated, General Kenobi had engaged General Grievous on Utapau, and you yourself had just come from Mandalore, having assisted in the capture of Darth Maul. There was a finality about the jump to hyperspace, as if leaving all grievances in the past, finally having prevailed against any and all adversaries.

Despite the relief you thought you might feel, there was something uncomfortable nagging at you from the back of your mind. You had thanked the clones alongside you for their part in the war, and then had retreated to a small room towards the back of the ship, with a window to the galaxy where you could just be alone with the stars.

It was emptiness that you felt, and you couldn’t figure out why. You should be happy, with the war ending, and hopefully being able to step down from your role as a General and become a keeper of the peace once again. However, the loneliness nagged at you nonetheless.

There was a knock at the door, and you pulled your eyes from the swirling blues of hyperspace to call for the person to enter. When the door zipped open, you were pleased to be met by the figure of the Captain of the 501st.

“General” he addressed you with a respectful nod of his head, though his expression betrayed something hesitant.

“Captain” you replied, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, sir” he confirmed, though didn’t elaborate as he stood in the doorway, gripping his helmet at his side.

”Did you need me for anything?” you asked, a little confused by his demeanour.

“No General, I just came to—” he paused, looking to the floor before he found your eyes again, “may I come in?”

You smiled, your questioning gaze softening at the timidity of the otherwise brave soldier, “of course”

Rex was a complication that you never saw coming.

With you not having your own battalion, you were placed wherever most support was needed, and in many of those instances, you had been deployed alongside the 501st. When you first met Rex, you had been struck by how easily confident he was, how collected he seemed in the face of a war that promised no end, and a General that sought to break his composure with every crazy new tactic he could think of.

As time passed, and you got to know Rex better, you became so effortlessly enamoured by him. He was charming and easy to get along with, if a little awkward at times, but that only endeared you to him more. You had spent many a campaign fighting at his side, and the feeling was always exhilarating. Your movements were harmonious with his in a especially instinctual way, working together as one unit without the need to tell him what to do. You understood each other, in a certain way.

Before you could think to pull yourself back, you realised your feelings towards him had reached the depths that no jedi should be indulging in. You tried to act as if it didn’t affect you, as if he didn’t affect you, but with every lingering look, every benevolent smile and awkward wave, you were failing miserably.

It was somewhat clear to you that Rex might feel the same way. He was always given away by the blush that spread across his cheeks whenever you thanked him or complimented his tactical skills, and as much as you felt you shouldn’t, sometimes you did so just to get that adorable reaction.

Rex was a restrained man. You knew that he’d never compromise your position as a jedi and as a General, and part of you was thankful for that, but there was also a part of you that wished upon every star that he would one day lose his composure and take what he so clearly wanted from you.

Now, as he closed the door behind him without taking his eyes from you, you took a moment to make another of those wishes.

“Are you okay General?” he asked, his voice cautious, as if he didn’t want to overstep.

“Yeah” you smiled softly, “just needed to get away for a moment”

Rex hesitated before he replied, “would you like me to leave?”

You chuckled slightly, “no, I’m glad you’re here”

The familiar blush spread across his cheeks as he shifted on his feet, forcing his gaze down to look at the floor.

“What did you come for?” you asked.

“Oh” the word fell from his lips as if he’d been caught, “I was just coming to check on you”

You couldn’t stop the way your heart fluttered, “why?”

Rex faltered, his eyes glued to his boots as he spoke quietly, “you know I care about you General, I—” he gulped, “I could tell that you weren’t feeling great after getting back to the ship, and I don’t want to impose but I couldn’t—”

“Rex” you placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping his rambling and making his head snap up to look at you with wide eyes, “thank you”

Rex didn’t speak, but the way his breath hitched, cheeks darkening further as his eyes dragged across your features, told you it had more of an effect on him than he’d let on. You shouldn’t test his patience, really, but watching him squirm like this was something that you relished in. You took your hand away from him, and he exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, about the war coming to an end” you confessed, turning back around the look out of the window.

Rex came to stand beside you, “what about it?”

You sighed, an action that gave away your fatigue, “I’m just not sure what comes next, it’s… troubling”

Rex nodded, “I understand”

His voice was quiet, and you turned to look at him. His amber eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your insides constrict. You’d seen the look before, but never in such close quarters, and the earnestness of it was startling.

“I’ll miss working with you, General” he said quietly, and the way his eyebrows pinched slightly as he spoke told you that his words meant more than he was saying.

You turned your body, resting the side of your head against the glass as you looked up at him, “so will I”

For a moment, neither one of you moved, too wrapped up in each other’s gazes to find a reason to look away. It was thrilling, holding his attention in this way, and before you could restrain yourself, you were speaking again.

“I’ll miss you a lot, Rex”

Rex sighed slightly, his shoulders sagging as he shifted closer to you. His gaze turned sorrowful, and his nervousness was obvious in the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his helmet.

“General, I need to tell you something” he whispered, and your heart lurched.

You took a step towards him so that your boots nearly touched his, and for once he didn’t look like he was going to move away. You pried his helmet from his twitching fingers and placed it on the windowsill, and his hands fell to his sides.

“What is it, Captain?” you asked in reply.

He looked nervous to speak, his mouth opening and then promptly closing when he couldn’t form the words. You hoped that the way you were looking up at him would give him the confidence to say what was on his mind, but you were pleasantly surprised when instead, he opted to lift a hand and sweep some of your hair behind your ear, then rest his palm against your cheek. His touch was painfully gentle, as if he was still trying to keep you at arm’s length, but it made your breath catch in your throat nonetheless.

”General, I—”

His gentle tone was interrupted by the shrill beeping of a comm device, and for a moment, he let it ring out, swiping his thumb across your cheek.

“Just give me a moment to see what this is about” he murmured, and then moved away to the other side of the room to receive the comm call.

Your blood felt hot, Rex’s touch still searing into your skin and sending tingles all throughout your body. You couldn’t believe that he’d actually crossed the line, and the anticipatory thrill that ran through you made you breathless.

You turned to admire him for a moment, and saw him clip the comm back onto his belt, and then slowly take a blaster from its holster. A cold feeling gripped you, a sharp pain piercing your mind and making your head ache. Rex wasn’t turning around, and you saw the way his hand trembled as he held his blaster tightly.

“Rex? What is it?” you asked worriedly, taking a few steps towards him.

“Get…” his voice was low, dangerous, and you froze, “get out”

You took another step but his voice was insistent.

”Run”

“Rex, what—?” you reached out to him, gently touching his arm, but you realised the error of your ways immediately.

He grabbed your wrist before you had barely touched him, and twisted your arm behind you at a painful angle, drawing a yelp from your throat. Your hand flung to your belt on instinct, calling your lightsaber to you, but Rex got his hand to your other wrist before you could get your fingers around it. The sound of the metal weapon clattering to the floor rang out in the quiet of the small room, and Rex pushed you into the wall, your cheek taking the full force of his strength. You groaned, feeling your face throbbing with pain as you heard Rex kick away your lightsaber.

You had barely had time to process what was happening, and it seemed so preposterous that you weren’t fully convinced that it was. Perhaps this was some sick daydream that you were having. That thought was knocked from you at the feeling of Rex pressing you into the wall, his palm against the back of your head.

“Stay put and be quiet” he spoke, and his voice was cold and harsh, two things you had never associated with him.

“Rex—”

“I said quiet” he growled in your ear, his breath tickling your neck and making you shudder.

You’d never been afraid of Rex, there was no reason to be after all. Though with the feeling of something shifting the tide against you, and knowing exactly the kind of things that Rex was capable of, a visceral fear gripped you body. You couldn't move, and luckily that's all he was asking for right now.

You felt the barrel of a blaster dig into the back of your head, earning another pained noise. You quickly felt hot tears springing from your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Rex what's going on? Why are you doing this?” you voice betrayed every inch of fear that held you captive. You sounded small, a quivering mess that tripped over words.

Before Rex could reply, if he even would have, a voice crackled through his comm, “Captain, sir, we can't find the target, have you got eyes on her?”

It was Jesse’s voice, and an unbidden whimper escaped your lips, earning a knee to the back and another grunt of pain from you. You couldn't understand why your men would turn on you in this way, and especially Rex.

The sensation that invaded your mind in the next moments was the most horrifying feeling that had ever seized you. You heard the cries through the force, their agony creating a wave of pain, a fever that wracked your body, making everything ache. You were brought to your knees by it, your chest constricting and feeling like you couldn't get enough air into your lungs.

“I'm dealing with it” Rex said simply, and pushed his blaster into your head once more, bringing you back to the present moment.

You could feel the way his hand shook, and you couldn't help but think that he should have shot you by now. You tilted your head back slowly, looking up at him as he towered above you with a steely expression that didn't suit him one bit.

“Rex, please” you whispered the desperate plea, and you could see the way his eyes shone, a watery layer of tears covering their surface despite the otherwise fierce look.

Without making any sudden movements, you gradually turned around and stood up. His blaster was now pressing into your forehead, but upon closer inspection you realised that he didn't even have his finger on the trigger. You slowly lifted your hands up, placing them over his, and trying to inject some calm into him, a soothing gesture through the force. All you could feel bouncing back at you was something cold and unfeeling, something bleak that didn't feel anything like he usually did.

Beneath it all there was a small flicker of light, which felt like it was trying to escape with every last bit of energy it had. It felt like Rex was being held captive in his own body, and the notion shook you to your core.

“Rex, it's okay” you tried to soothe, but he just pressed you back more, your head hitting into the wall and bringing a new discomfort.

He was close, watching tears slip out of your eyes from mere inches away, but the only thing he did was finally put his finger to the trigger. You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing what you had to do to get out of this situation.

“I'm so sorry Rex” you whispered, before mustering all the strength within you to push him back and send him careening into the wall opposite.

His head hit the durasteel with a sickening thud, carving a dent where it found its mark, and you cringed, hoping it hadn't done any serious damage to him. He was still conscious, barely, groaning at the injury and holding the back of his head in his hand. You took your chance and summoned your lightsaber, scurrying from the room and heading straight to the hangar with haste.

It had been months, or you thought so at least. You stopped counting the days when you realised that it didn't really matter. It was in the past, that was all that was important.

You were a different person now, at least in the mind of those around you. You went by a different name, and it seemed fitting for how you felt like a shell of the person you used to be. You'd found work on some outer rim planet that you'd never knew existed until you almost crashed into its surface. It was far enough away from the core worlds that it was doubtful that anyone would recognise you, but you still tried not to make a show of yourself. It was easy work, fixing up speeders and other hunks of junk that people brought in. It was pretty mindless work, but you had always been good with your hands, and the pay wasn't awful.

Unfortunately, the mindlessness of it gave you plenty of time to think. It had been months, but you were still confused.

Rex was probably your closest friend, someone you had trusted with your life, but that trust had been proven futile the moment he put a blaster to your head. You knew that something had to have been seriously wrong to do such a thing. Even if he suddenly decided your friendship was worthless, he was a good man. He couldn't do such a thing in his right mind. The cold sensation that gripped you when you touched his hand still haunted your dreams, but you were not closer to figuring it out.

It was late, rain was pouring down outside the garage and providing a calming backdrop to your tinkering, and you were slid underneath a speeder, humming something to keep your mind focused with your hands buried in tangled wires. You felt someone approaching before their footsteps reached your ears, and an irritated sigh left your lips. You remembered turning the sign on the door to show you were finished for the day. Apparently this person had taken it upon themself to investigate anyway.

“We’re closed” you said in a flat voice, not enough energy to inject any warmth into your voice.

The person didn't reply, and you could feel them standing there still, unmoving. With another ennervated noise leaving your lips, you slid out from underneath the speeder to give them a piece of your mind, but your words died on your lips when you saw the person looking down at you.

You instantly pulled the blaster from the holster at your hip, and his hands shot up in surrender.

“Please don't shoot, I'm not going to hurt you”

You didn't know what to, or say. You had imagined what you might say if you came upon Rex again, you couldn't help it, but all of your previous thoughts were spilling from your head at the sight of him actually standing there. You stood up, keeping your blaster pointed at him, ready to run if need be. Of course you'd never shoot him, and he probably knew that, but it was still a protective measure you weren't going to neglect.

“How did you find me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice strong.

“Please put the blaster d—” Rex's please was cut off by you doubling down, stepping forwards with your finger on the trigger.

“I asked you a question” you remarked.

“I— Senator Organa told me where I could find you” he said carefully.

Your frown was deep and betrayed your mistrust before you spoke, “you're lying”

“I'm no—”

“Why would he tell you?” you pushed your blaster into his forehead, trying your best to be intimidating, but he just looked calm, his eyes piercing you as they had before he turned on you, a reverence in his gaze that gave you pause.

It made your heart stutter, but you couldn't give in so easily. He didn't pull away, he didn't do anything but watch you for a moment, and you could feel yourself giving in.

“Because I asked” he replied softly, bringing his hands up and placing them over yours.

You only realised then that you were shaking, with the steadiness and warmth of Rex engulfing your hands. You could feel none of the cold and harsh feeling that reached for your mind the last time you had touched him, only the warmth of his usual presence through the force. Strong and glowing, unyieldingly positive and steadfast, just comforting.

You felt Rex take the blaster from you and throw it away, holding your trembling hands in his and enrapturing you with his steady gaze.

“You don't need to be afraid of me” his voice was soothing and gentle.

“I don't understand” you whispered, your voice trembling, though no longer in fear.

Rex tentatively pulled you forward and wrapped his arms around you, and you took the bait instantly. You buried your face in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, enveloping yourself in his warmth, his comfort.

“I'm so sorry General” he said softly, sounding utterly apologetic, “you're safe, I can explain everything”

It did feel safe, being in his arms, but you still couldn't so easily shake what had happened the last time you saw him.

“Why did you—” it was hard to say, hard to admit, “you were going to kill me”

His arms tightened around you, “I couldn't control it General, I—” he sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head, “I have a lot of explaining to do”

A small laugh escaped you even though you knew it wasn't a joke. Perhaps it was just that the situation seemed so ridiculous.

“You think?” you pulled back to look up at him, a small smile pulling at your lips.

Rex's hand found its place on your cheek as he smiled back, and you leaned into it, about to close your eyes until you noticed a thin scar on the side of his head.

“What's this?” you reached up and traced your finger along it.

Rex huffed a little, “the explanation”

You frowned up at him, not taking his meaning at all.

“I— it’s a lot, it's hard to—”

You stepped out of his embrace to gesture behind you, “why don't you come and sit down in my room”

Rex looked to the door you were pointing to across the room, hesitant for a moment before he met your gaze again with a small smile, “yeah, that sounds good”

After showing him into the small room, Rex took a seat on the old sofa that clung to the wall, while you went about making a batch of caf. You were suddenly struck by how different things were. You weren't entirely sure what was going on in the larger galaxy, having run away from it all, but what you knew was that whoever Rex was to you now, was something completely different. He was no longer a soldier under your command, you no longer his General. Something about it sent a thrill through you, but you tried to supress thinking about that until he'd explained himself.

You offered him the cup of caf, and grabbed your own, taking a seat beside him and bringing your knees to your chest. Rex looked despondently down onto his cup, swirling it gently before taking a sip. You saw his shoulders relax as he breathed out, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. You realised then just how tired and run down he looked, and you became more nervous for him to disclose what had happened to him.

He began by telling you about what happened to Fives, what he uncovered and what went down in the warehouse where he died. He told you how he held him in his arms when he took his last breath, how nobody believed him and he had to go on knowing about the chip in his head without the knowledge of what it really meant.

You remembered seeing Rex soon after it had all gone down, and thinking that he seemed changed, as if he was trying to hold it together for the sake of his men. You knew it had affected him more than he was letting on, you just hadn't known why.

He told you that after you'd run away from him when his chip activated, he'd gone looking for you and instead ran into Ahsoka, and how she had helped him remove it before their hard-won escape.

“I'm so sorry General” He looked over to you for the first time since he began speaking, and you could see the tears in the corners of his eyes, “I tried to control it, but…”

He stopped speaking, his face contorting in a frown as he tried to quell his emotions.

“I would never have— you know that I'd never—”

“Rex” you stopped him with hand over his when you could see his emotions getting the better of him, “I know. I knew something was wrong, that it wasn't you. I could feel it”

His brows pinched slightly as he let out a deep breath, relief flooding his expression. He sat back, slumping against the back of the sofa and resting his head on the wall as he closed his eyes. He looked so tired and overwhelmed, and your heart ached for him.

“So… all of the jedi, they're—” you stopped short of the painful word, but Rex understood.

He opened his eyes and nodded, “aside from Ahsoka... yes. as far as I know”

You tightened your arms around your shins and let out a long breath, resting your head on your knees and looking down. You had expected as much. The loss you felt though the force was crippling, there could be no other explanation for such an agonizing feeling.

“I'm so sorry” Rex said quietly and your eyes flicked back to him. He looked so remorseful, as if he was carrying to whole weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

“It's not your fault, Rex” you shook your head, “you're a victim of this as much as I am”

“I know, but—” his eyes softened, “I know how much being a jedi meant to you, I'm just sorry that things turned out this way”

You nodded, a sad smile lifting your lips, “me too”

A silence stretched out between you, neither one of you deigning to speak again for a moment as the gravity of the situation overtook you. Though, there was something still playing on your mind, something you needed to know.

“Rex… when you—” you chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, wondering if you should bring it up, “before everything happened, you said you had something to tell me”

“Oh” his eyes widened for a moment, and you could see a blush grow on his cheeks, “I did say that, yeah”

You waited a moment, but when he didn't say anything else you raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“Ah, it's nothing” he spoke with a nervous chuckle, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“Nothing?” you asked, tipping your head to the side, an almost teasing look in your eyes and a smirk crossing your lips.

He huffed slightly, his cheeks darkening further, “you shouldn't look at me like that, General”

Your heart pounded in your chest at his low and somewhat sultry tone, but it only spurred you on, “why not?”

“Because… you're my superior”

“No I'm not” you challenged.

You were no longer bound by the titles that once held you from each other, and you watched with a somewhat triumphant expression as you saw that realisation set into his face.

“No… you're not” he said slowly, quietly, as if testing the words to see how true they felt.

With an unhurried pace, but not hesitation, Rex reached out took your ankles, drawing your legs away from your chest and draping one one of them over his lap as he shifted towards you. He placed himself between your legs, taking your face in his hand and taking a moment to cast his gaze across your features.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, your voice breathless.

Rex's lips quirked up slightly, in a coy manner that you'd never seen from him.

“My orders” he whispered, his breath fanning over your lips.

You bit into your lip as a surprised chuckle left you. You'd never known Rex act like this, but you weren't going to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of it.

“Kiss me, Captain”

“Of course, General”

His lips captured yours with a celerity, much less reserved an action that you’d come to expect from him. His hands snaked around your waist, his grip on you tightening as your met the intensity of his kiss with ardour, pulling him in by his neck.

His lips started exploring past the bounds of your lips, trailing kisses along the underside of your jaw and throat, his teeth dragging along your collarbone. You could scarcely believe it was happening, and your fingers pinched the skin of your wrist to make sure. You felt Rex huff a laugh against your skin before he pulled back from you, which only made you shudder.

“Did you just pinch yourself?” he asked in a breathy chuckle.

“Shut up” you laughed in reply, an embarrassed blush scorching your ears as you pulled his lips back onto yours.

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak

[vixen-tech]

HIII :333 first requester here....I should get an emoji can i be 🫧 anon :ooo anway here's my req!! the ais with a reader who is just SO DOWN BAD. WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEM. RUSHES FOR HELP if they crash or something. Just PATHETIC reader.

Stupidly Smitten

Hello you two!! This is one of those requests that I think work well enough to be combined into one post. You are just so extremely, pathetically in love with your Ai <3

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Auto (Wall-E), Wheatley (Portal 2)

Hal 9000

Hal was unaware that a person could have so much love in them, let alone for him specifically. It was overwhelming at first, baffling when he realized it was only for him and not for any other crew members.

However he handles it in stride, able to calmly respond to your paragraphs of praise with the gentlest "Thank you, I deeply appreciate your companionship as well." Expertly concealing any signs of fluster as you giggle and kiss his camera lens.

Of your long list of cheesy nicknames, prince or prince charming tends to be a go to. A good match for his ever polite, gentlemanly nature. He reminds you that he was simply designed like that, but grows fond of the name anyway.

He very much appreciates the amount you volunteer around the ship. There is a lot that he can't do without a human crew and he adores the diligence you show in your work and the care with which you handle his ship.

Edgar

You and Edgar make the sappiest little feedback loop. It's an endless cycle of "I love you more." "No, I love you more!". To any outsider it would be exhausting to witness, but it's just how you two get out all your feelings.

He goes crazy for all your terms of endearment. 'Songbird' is a pretty easy match for him, but he loves literally every word that comes out of your mouth. Flipping each and every one back at you.

It's not unusual for you to do the same song and dance around the chores. Generally, he'll already have them done by the time you get home, but when you get the day off you always offer to do them yourself. He rarely lets you.

You've told him the time you often have your lunch break so you can chat over the phone while you eat. You're sure your coworkers are sick of you being such a cartoonishly in love couple, but you don't care. He makes you too happy for that.

Auto

Auto has absolutely no idea how to deal with you. He was not made to interact with many people and certainly not someone so affectionate. He may as well have bluescreened the first time you clumsily tried to hug him.

At first he resigns himself to just... sit still whenever you got in a lovey-dovey mood, letting you gush over him. Definitely not spending the rest of the day thinking about the way you said "See you later starlight!" when you finally let him get back to his job.

Over time he recognizes that he began to anticipate your visits, it's so different to how he's usually treated. He knew you had gotten to him when he went out if his to check up on you the day you missed one of your usual visits.

He usually rejects any help you attempt to offer him, his purpose is to handle the ship just fine all by himself. But after that episode he stops trying to push you away. If you're so happy tagging along, he might as well graciously allow you to do so, ignoring his complicated mess of feelings about you.

Wheatley

Oh the ego boost you give him is downright dangerous. If Wheatley was annoying before, now he is absolutely insufferable. Perfectly matches your energy though, you two cannot shut up about each other.

He makes your boundless affection everyone else's problem. "See, I reckon you're just jealous that you're not in a loving, committed relationship with such a lovely person like I am." He boasts. "My amazing romantic partner even calls me their sunshine. Cause I 'light up their life' as they say. Bet you wish you had someone like that."

He is always fishing for compliments, trying to show off for you in any way he psychically can to get some of those sweet sweet words of affirmation. To his delight you always do, grabbing him for some well placed kisses.

He'll even go so far as to reject any assistance you offer him so he can prove he's all cool and competent by doing it himself. Although it's never too long before he gives up and sheepishly asks for your help.

[theunsinkableship1]

Friends the one with the mirrors

⚠️#lukolaship skip if you don't believe.

This week has been a heavy and painful one on the Lukolaship. Nicola Coughlan a person whose kindness, talent, and heart have touched so many is facing a wave of hate and hostility simply because she stood in solidarity with trans rights which is admirable

It’s easy, in hard moments, to feel overwhelmed by the ugliness out there. But the truth is: love is louder. Solidarity is stronger. Kindness will always outlast cruelty.

It is important to emphasize that hate should not be directed towards anyone, sending love to Nicola, her friends and everyone standing for dignity and inclusion. Hate has no place here.

Yesterday’s news felt like a small fracture, one we’ve sensed coming for a while, yet hoped might shift course. Nicola appears to have re-launched a relationship on the red carpet with someone who is not Luke. For many of us who’ve followed the story of Lukola with curiosity and admiration, those of us who have quietly hoped, believed, and felt something rare in the space between her and Luke, it stung, not out of resentment, but out of reverence. It marked a shift. The soft fading of a path we imagined brightly lit.

It’s not surprising, though. This has been the trajectory implied since summer 2024. The media breadcrumbs, the distancing, the new alignments, they've all pointed to this narrative. And still, here we are. Still believing. Still showing up with open eyes and hearts.

This isn’t delusion. It’s not denial. It’s about honoring something we’ve seen with our own eyes an extraordinary connection between two people that sparked not only on-screen, but in rare, unguarded moments off it. It's about intuition, patterns, silences, and symbolism. And yes, it’s about love, however complicated, quiet, or off-limits it may be. But because some connections don’t just disappear when the headlines change.

“I will go down with this ship And I won’t put my hands up and surrender.”

Because this never felt ordinary.

And even if we can even begin to comprehend,

We understand this is their life, not ours. They don’t owe us answers. If Nicola is happy, that matters. If Luke is at peace, we’re grateful. But belief, when grounded in truth and tempered with grace, isn’t something you simply abandon because circumstances shift. We don’t stop believing in the sun just because it's cloudy. The truth, as always, reveals itself in time.

For many of us, Lukola was never just about shipping two actors. It was about the rare kind of chemistry that transcends performance. It was the softness between takes, the quiet care, the electric stillness in their shared glances. It was how safe they seemed around each other, how joy radiated in their presence. It felt real, like something not manufactured, not scripted. Like magic, yes, but the kind of magic that only exists when something true is underneath it.

And you don’t just unsee that. You don’t forget how it made you feel. You don’t owe detachment just because the story didn’t go the way you hoped.

None of this is about hating anyone, certainly not their supposed current partners. Most of us are not interested in interfering, or in stirring anything up. We just… care. And we’re trying to process it kindly. Respectfully. Quietly holding space for something that feels luminous.

So, no, we won’t be waving white flags. Because we’re not fighting anyone. We’re simply choosing to wait with love. To hope without pressure. To imagine without expectation.

Because here’s the thing: something’s still mirroring.

"It’s like you’re my mirror, my mirror staring back at me."

One of the more curious patterns that’s emerged over time is how much Luke and Nicola seem to one another. Even now, as they appear on separate tracks, there are synchronizations, emotional, visual, tonal. It’s like a dance of shadows. Like the same song heard in two different rooms. They seem to respond to each other instinctively not as scripted characters, but as two real people who have grown deeply connected, whether they can show it openly or not.

The mirroring between Luke and Nicola has become one of the most fascinating, emotionally loaded aspects of this journey, something subtle, yet too consistent to ignore. Whether it’s in interviews, social media timing, fashion, or even the emotional tone of their public appearances, it feels as though they’re unconsciously (or very consciously) moving in tandem. We’ve seen the pattern enough times now that it can’t be purely coincidence: when one of them steps forward, the other retreats. When one posts something emotional, the other echoes it days later with a similar mood. Their energy shifts seem to occur in tandem even when they’re physically apart or not interacting publicly.

And it brings to mind Justin Timberlake’s “Mirrors,” a song often used for Polin edits, but hauntingly fitting for Lukola, too. “It’s like you’re my mirror, my mirror staring back at me.” That lyric carries the weight of connection of unfinishedness, of two people bound beyond words.

So, what could this mirroring mean? What is happening? Here are a few theories:

This mirroring goes beyond surface-level synchronicities. It feels emotional. Symbolic. Like two people tethered, whether consciously or not.

The Soulbond Theory

The most intuitive theory of all: they’re soul connected. Not necessarily in a romantic fairytale way but in the sense of two people who recognize each other on a deeper frequency. Some bonds are simply there, whether or not they’re acted on. The mirroring, in this case, would be the quiet truth of souls still aware of each other. It will explain why they ignite so much fire and passion on so many levels.

The Parallel Journey Theory

“And now it’s clear as this promise, that we’re making two reflections into one…”

They’re on parallel paths that haven’t crossed back yet but still might. They’ve been growing, evolving, healing, learning, becoming separately. But the mirroring suggests a spiritual alignment. They’re becoming the versions of themselves that could finally meet at the right time.

Perhaps their journeys are still aligned, but not yet converged. Sometimes people walk separate roads only to meet again when the time is right.

We see both of them stepping into new chapters Nicola with more vulnerability and boldness, Luke with introspection and quiet growth. They seem to glow up in rhythm. It feels like they’re building the versions of themselves that could, one day, reunite.

The mirrors aren’t just reflecting now they’re preparing for later. They’re growing in ways that may allow them to reunite from a place of deeper readiness.

The Hidden Communication Theory

“Show me how to fight for now, and I’ll tell you, baby, it was easy…”

Another possibility? They’re responding to each other in code. Not necessarily literally but emotionally, symbolically. When public closeness is restricted, mirroring becomes a subtle way of communicating. We’ve noticed it: Songs and words posted on one side, echoed emotions on the other. Softness on red carpets. Thoughtful timing. The silence speaks. Perhaps the mirroring isn’t just unconscious, they’re aware of what they’re doing. They’re offering a kind of silent reassurance. It’s not for the world. It’s for each other. Like sending smoke signals across the hills.

The Emotional Residue Theory

“Aren’t you something to admire, cause your shine is something like a mirror…”

This theory suggests they were once romantically, spiritually emotionally involved maybe deeply and that connection left a lasting imprint. Even if they’ve moved into new relationships or directions, the energetic blueprint remains. Like twin stars that once orbited the same system, their movements still reflect each other. That could explain why their energy still shifts in sync, even when they aren’t seen together.

We see it in matching moods, parallel themes in interviews, or social posts that seem emotionally in conversation with each other. It’s not staged. It’s not necessarily conscious. It’s just... resonance. Still flickering under the surface.

The Timing Mismatch Theory

They did feel something real during filming. Maybe it was love, or the seed of it. But the timing wasn't right. One or both of them were emotionally unavailable or focused on their careers. So, they made a choice: to preserve the friendship or leave the connection undefined for now. But real feelings like that don’t vanish, they pause. Maybe what we witnessed was a beginning that hasn't found its middle yet.

The Private Pact Theory

They are or were together but chose early on to keep it under wraps due to personal values, family privacy, or career strategy. They may have separated quietly or are still quietly present in each other’s lives. A “soft pause” rather than a breakup. In this theory, the heart of their bond is intact, but they're not making it public and perhaps never will.

The Image Management Theory

There may have been (or still are) real contractual or PR-related factors shaping how Luke and Nicola appear to the public. Whether it’s brand deals, Netflix strategy, or other alignments, what we see might be curated. In this reading, current public appearances don’t necessarily reflect emotional truth. And in time, the curtain may drop.

The Emotional Delay Theory

They’ve both felt the pull but haven’t acted on it romantically yet. Maybe they're still figuring it out. Maybe the weight of fan attention actually made them more cautious. The myth of Lukola grew so big, so fast it’s possible they needed to step back and ask themselves what’s real and what’s projection. And they might still be doing that, privately, in their own way.

The Red Herring Theory

The current relationships are real, but they might not be permanent. Like many in adulthood, these could be stepping-stone relationships. Good people, good timing, but not the person. This theory doesn’t deny Nicola’s or Luke’s perceived happiness now it just holds space for change. Not everything we see today is forever.

What can we make of this? I don’t know why things turned out this way, but it's clear they want us to perceive their relationships as they show now, and they choose to identify as friends. While I trust what I saw, which seemed more than friendship, and I’m pretty sure that it clearly went beyond that at one point. Their chemistry was unique and their comfort with each other exceeded professional norms. Their emotional mirroring suggests a deep personal bond. There is logic in seeing something special and reason behind our intuition. We recognized something genuine, even if the full truth isn’t public. Because we heard the truth even when it wore a costume. The connection between Luke and Nicola was real enough, consistent enough, and alive enough that it didn’t need "proof." It was evident in their eyes, their body language, their protective instincts toward one another, the ways they looked for each other, comforted each other, shielded each other especially during the most intense times and in spring and early summer 2024. After that, it’s unclear and very much complicated, because life happens, perhaps they couldn’t say it clearly or weren’t ready. Timing and life might have played a role, circumstances shift, private decisions are made, and public appearances aren't always faithful reflections of private truths, still the authenticity of what existed between them does not vanish

I know what I saw. I know what it meant. I honor it, I cherish it, but I also release it into the hands of time. Whatever is real will remain real. I trust that truth does not need my control to survive.

Some truths belong to the people living them, and it is enough for me to know that, once, something extraordinary touched the world and I was lucky enough to recognize it.

We are not lost. We are not adrift. We are simply moving with the quiet rhythm of time, believing that what was true once, still hums beneath the surface. No matter how silent the water grows, we remain aboard, steadfast, at peace. Sailing not with noise or force, but with the quiet, elegant grace of knowing: the heart remembers. And that is enough.

I will not abandon this ship. I will step back a little for now, not out of disbelief, but out of love and to show some respect and put less pressure on them. Out of trust in time, in life, and in the freedom of hearts to follow their true paths.

Whatever was real will always be real. We’ve seen their true colors. And they’re beautiful.

If all things in time, time will reveal. And we’ll be back on.

Remember this⚓

[trainer-from-unova]

spider under the moon

english ao3 🕸️ spanish ao3 🕸️

SHIP: moon knight x spiderwoman!reader SUMMARY: after the incursion you ended up in another dimension without being able to go back to your dimension or your ex's, but there's a man (or rather three) who look like his twin, so you can't help want to be close to him AU: post-incursion (post-Doomsday and Secret Wars) C/W: light angst, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, stalking, crush confession, bittersweet ambiguous open ending A/N: english isn't my first language, sorry if something's weird expressed WORD COUNT: 1138

The first time she saw him she didn't pay attention to him, she couldn't imagine how important he would be in her life, or rather, how important he wouldn't be — besides, she was busier fighting on the battlefield of the new world that had emerged from the incursion. Part of her wanted to believe that everything would work out, that he would find a way to fix everything since he was an expert in the multiverse and that one day she would see one of those orange, hexagonal portals appear in front of her again, but the more realistic part of her conscience told her to forget about those fantasies and accept her new life once and for all.

Moon Knight was identical to him in physique and even, dare she say it, in (a) personality (and even one of them speaks Spanish). He was so close and yet so far away... Even though she knew he wasn't really him she wanted to get closer and hopefully have the same relationship she had with Miguel, but she didn't know how. With Miguel everything was more natural and easy, maybe because they had more things in common, but with Moon Knight everything was more complicated: he had several personalities, he wasn't a Spider and he was a lone wolf. She was only lucky to meet him a couple of times, guarding the streets of New York at night. She thought about offering to team up with him, but she suspected there was little chance of them agreeing, and deep down she knew it was better to stake out separately, to cover more ground and protect more people.

Still, even though she knew it was wrong deep down, she sometimes stalked him. It was the closest she could get to him, and she also knew it was pointless, but she couldn't help it. She followed him at a safe distance, swinging between the buildings from web to web. But that night, for a moment, she lost sight of him. She landed on the roof of the building where she last saw him, glancing in all directions over the edge of the cliff. When she gave up she raised her hand to throw another web and leave, but it was cut off by a sharp object thrown behind her before she could jump.

Surprised by the attack from behind and the fact that her spider-sense hadn't warned her, she turned quickly to throw another web, not to swing away but to catch and immobilise the attacker, but he dodged it.

"Moon Knight!?" she asked completely surprised and confused to see that the attacker was him, changing her pose from an attacker to a defensive one. He was a superhero but there was always the possibility that he was controlled by a villain or something like that. "Why did you attack me?" she asked concerned and even a little hurt.

"Why are you stalking me?" he asked seriously, pointing at her with a nod of his head. She felt less terrified now that she knew he wasn't being controlled by any villain and didn't really intend to fight her, so she relaxed her pose. But the terror was still there, mixed with embarrassment that she had been discovered. She wanted the earth to swallow her up.

"I wasn't-" she said nervously, feeling her eyes watering. "I just-"

"Don't play dumb with me," he said seriously and now also annoyed as he magically removed his mask, showing that familiar face and facial expression. Instead she had to reach up to remove hers. On the one hand she didn't want to be seen by him like that, but on the other hand she thought that hopefully he would take pity on her when he saw her embarrassed face, apart from the fact that if she was going to cry and she couldn't help crying under it, it was uncomfortable as she couldn't wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she hastened to say, and thought it best in that situation to be honest. "I like you," confessing that once and for all felt like pulling off a band-aid — painful but by doing it quickly the pain was short-lived.

"...What?" he asked still (and even more) surprised and confused, but also calmer and making the decision to slowly approach her. As she watched him approach, she felt her cheeks grow redder with each step he took.

"I know it's hard to believe," she said overwhelmed, "but-"

"No, I believe you," he said. "I've noticed the way you look at me when we meet, when you're not wearing a mask," he reported matter-of-factly (though thankfully without a mocking tone), and she grimaced in annoyance at the information and blushed even more when she realised how poorly disguised she was with her eyes and expressions.

If it wasn't for the incursion she would be patrolling the streets of her universe's New York or be in 928, in the Spider Society with Miguel and many others who understood her perfectly, and not living this embarrassing moment with him. She couldn't help but shed a few silent tears from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.

"It won't happen again, I promise," she nodded apologetically, looking in another direction, not daring to look him directly in the eye, especially at that moment when he was so close. "Now, if you excuse me..." she said as she quickly wiped her eyes and cheeks, pretending to put her mask back on and run off with the web between her legs.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just... I don't know," he asked with a shrug, genuinely curious as to why she liked him and why she thought it was a good idea to stalk him, and also wanting to stop her and even comfort her after seeing how concerned she had been by this encounter and conversation, "to ask me out?"

"Mmm... I suppose," she said sighing apologetically, "but I didn't dare. Watching you from a distance seemed like a better option," she confessed as she shrugged, still not daring to look him in the eye, let alone dare to say the word "stalking" aloud.

"There's no need to cry or to be afraid of me, I don't bite, you know?" he asked, or rather, he reminded in an attempt to make her feel better, trying his best to sound as kind as possible and not too tired, but such an emotional situation was beyond his abilities. He wasn't very good with feelings (specially romantic ones), that was Steven's thing, and he didn't want to give him control of the body because it was his turn and he also didn't want her to think he was uncomfortable enough to run away and change personality.

"Yeah, that's the problem," she thought, remembering Miguel once again.

[quinny19]

Rivals part 1

Hawks x Reader Rival-to-Lovers

Chapter 1: The Six Winged Hero ( hate at first sight)

Hawks knew the moment he saw you that he didn't like you.

Scratch that—he hated you.

Because there you were, standing in the middle of the Hero Public Safety Commission’s grand office, six enormous, pristine, feathery wings spread out behind you like some kind of celestial being. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the smug look on your face told him that you knew exactly how much this bothered him.

"Why the hell does she get six?" was Hawks' first thought.

The second thought? "I bet I can still fly faster."

The officials introduced you as the newest rising pro hero, a powerhouse with unmatched aerial speed, strength, and battle precision. A Seraphim-like quirk, they called it. "Seraph"—even your hero name was flashy.

Hawks plastered on his usual lazy grin, hands in his pockets. "Six wings, huh? Bit excessive, don’t you think?"

You blinked at him before tilting your head. "Oh, sorry—were you feeling insecure?"

His eye twitched.

And thus, the rivalry was born.

Scenario 1: The Speed Challenge (Because Everything’s a Competition)

It started with a simple mission—a joint patrol of the city. Should’ve been easy. Should’ve been peaceful.

But the moment you both took off, Hawks smirked. "Bet I can finish my patrol before you."

You, mid-yawn, stretched your arms. "Bet I can do it while half-asleep."

And you did.

Not only did you clear your patrol in record time, but you also managed to rescue a stranded cat, stop a runaway truck, and still arrive back at the agency before Hawks—while barely awake.

"Unbelievable," Hawks grumbled as he landed, wings twitching. "You weren’t even trying."

You gave him a lazy smile. "Maybe I’m just that good."

Mirko, who had been watching from the sidelines, burst out laughing. "Oh man, Bird Boy, I think she just flexed on you without even trying!"

Hawks scowled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, rabbit."

Scenario 2: The Media Fiasco

The problem started when some tabloid snapped a photo of you and Hawks during a mission—standing a little too close, wings slightly overlapping.

"New Pro Hero Power Couple? Wings and Love in the Air!" the headline read.

Cue immediate denial from both of you.

"Absolutely not," you said, crossing your arms.

"In your dreams," Hawks scoffed.

But the internet? Oh, it thrived on the rumors. Fan edits, shipping hashtags, conspiracy theories about "secret dates"—it was a mess.

Endeavor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just ignore it."

Easy to say. Harder when the next press conference had a reporter boldly asking, "So, when’s the wedding?"

Hawks nearly choked on his coffee. You? You just blinked.

"Ah, well," you said smoothly, "Hawks would have to admit I’m better than him first. And we all know that’ll never happen."

The entire room exploded in laughter.

Hawks shot you a glare. "Oh, you are so dead."

Scenario 3: The Last Piece of Food War

It was supposed to be a normal lunch at the agency breakroom. Then came the last piece of takoyaki.

You and Hawks both reached for it.

A stare-down commenced.

"You take it, and you admit I’m the better flyer," you said.

Hawks smirked. "You take it, and you admit you like me."

Your eye twitched. "Nice try, Pigeon Boy."

"You blinked. That means I win."

You lunged for the takoyaki.

Hawks dodged.

Best Jeanist, watching from the corner, hummed. "Ah, the delicate threads of fate weave a complicated romance…"

Both you and Hawks turned to glare at him.

"Shut up, Jeanist!"

Scenario 4: Forced Partner Mission (AKA Hell)

When the Commission paired you and Hawks for an undercover mission, the entire hero community knew it was going to be chaos.

Disguised as a couple infiltrating a high-class villain gathering, you had to act the part.

"You two need to look natural," the handler warned.

"Define ‘natural,’" Hawks said, arms crossed.

"Like you actually tolerate each other."

Silence.

Then Hawks sighed, dramatically draping an arm around your shoulder. "What’s up, honey~?" he said in the most obnoxious voice possible.

You elbowed him. Hard.

"Ow—damn, woman!"

"Call me ‘honey’ again, and I’ll make you a flightless bird."

The handler groaned. "This is a disaster."

Scenario 5: The Almost Confession (But Not Really, Because Denial is Key)

It happened after a rough mission. You were both exhausted, sitting on the rooftop overlooking the city, wings slightly battered.

Hawks nudged your arm. "You good?"

You exhaled. "I’ve had worse."

A comfortable silence.

Then, quietly, Hawks muttered, "If you were my type—which you aren’t—you’d be almost tolerable."

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "If you weren’t so annoying, I might almost respect you."

Another pause.

Then—

"Nah," you both said at the same time.

A smirk tugged at Hawks' lips. "Bet I can heal faster than you."

You rolled your eyes. "Bet I can ignore you longer."

The rivalry continued.

But the unspoken warmth between you?

That was another battle entirely.

part 2

Part 3 : rivals

[sunstung]

Opinions on LiuQiJiu or any of the ship dynamics between those three?

ok firstly I ship sj with everyone he's my fandom bicycle seat.

AND OK. the difficult thing to work around here is yue qingyuan. I could see him as being either jealous or more likely upset that he feels he's not enough for sj alone but also not willing to voice his discomfort. Sj would pick up on this discomfort easily but also misconstrue what causes it and blame it on himself im sure.

I find it hard to ship him with others simply because I feel like he wouldn't be who he is in any way without sj- everything is for him. Liu qingge is the easy one here because I could see him easily with either or both at the same time no problem! His chivalry would have him trying his best to make them both happy in his misguided silly ways. I adore him- he's good for both of them and I think if yqy can open up to lqg then lqg can bridge the communication gap between qijiu.

Sj is also easy here.. obviously lots of communication would be needed to get him into a relationship with EITHER but I think his appreciation and hoarding of creature comforts (bringing everything with him everywhere in the carriage like in the book) could make him someone who takes exactly what he needs once it's offered - no matter what anyone thinks of him for it

Tldr it's complicated and yqy needs a lot of guidance but I think they could work out and also it's hot MDNBDMDNDBDJE

[princess-self-shipping]

bababa. lets take the easy one. milkshake. explode 💥

/pos I PROMMY

Ship It (This got long for the second question so cut lol)

1. What made you ship it?

Deadass I entirely blame the same person who got me into lilypad (@amerricanartwork ) for me getting into Milkshake early on. I stayed with it cause that first introduction put me on a very fun path towards a more nuanced take on Innocence that I probably wouldn't have had without it to be honest! They're cute! They're fun! They're complicated as shit and have hurdles and miscommunications to work through! It's great!

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

A personal favorite of mine is something I adore doing on my own, and it's Innocence being the first one to extend a PROPER hand out towards Pebbles to help him get back on his own two feet when everything is said and done. Innocence's stake in everything was shockingly little in terms of personal, she had no stake in Moon's collapse, they had NO idea the drama going on behind the scenes, they just. Simply dropped the news about Pebbles's rot (out of concern in my interpretation, which unfortunately turned into a full out gossip tornado as a result of a ill thought action).

And they give him that chance to be a normal fucking person again. They make him a new robe cause his were torn apart from the wind and snow and time, they give him a chance to talk and figure out how to be a person again with someone outside of Moon. And he, in turn, while upset with her for leaking his rot, appreciates her company. He talks to her on equal standing, discusses things they used to talk about all the time even if he doesn't remember where they left off, Innocence (in my AU) left her can because the isolation was KILLING her. Getting to talk to Pebbles again does both of them some major good the two of them were missing for decades

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

It's. A lot to do with Innocence's characterization that I see happen a lot- look. I get that making her a bastard is fun- I do it too! The bastard behavior is contagious and silly! I just wish more depth and nuance outside of villanizing them tended to happen (Especially since Winds is. RIGHT. THERE. GOSSIPY LIL SHIT-)

I get WHY, we have nothing from Innocence themselves in the game to have an idea what they're like, just that one admittedly REALLY bad decision. I just feel like it gets boring after a while and can hamper some shipping potential, ya know?

[queenjunothegreat]

HELLO EVERYONE GUESS WHO'S BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (•̤̀ᗜ•̤́๑) I've got another @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange fic for you, this time for the darling @lavndvrr who asked for Valgrace, so OBVIOUSLY that's what I went with. We also got a wee lil bit of hurt/comfort in there for some spice. I hope you like it!

The title comes from Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem "Good-Night" because I am clinging to my title of Most Pretentious Bitch In This City with pride.

And with that, here is And ease thy soul with slumber bright.

Piper chewed her bottom lip while she studied him. Eventually, she spoke. “Leo… doesn’t like sleeping.” “I’ve gathered that much,” Jason confessed. “Is there any reason for that? Any way I can help?” “I dunno.” Piper’s gaze drifted over to where Leo was still sitting, enjoying the breeze Jason had called for him. “He doesn’t like being exposed. There’s not really anything you can do, other than wait for him to feel okay around you.” She hiked a challenging eyebrow at him. “You willing to do that? You ready to wait?” For Leo? Anything. Jason shrugged. “Yeah, of course.” *-*-* Leo's not sleeping, and Jason is concerned. Unfortunately, there's only one thing Jason can do to help, and that's to simply love him.

Jason would freely admit that he was more than a little concerned about Leo. Beyond the usual levels of “mother henning” that Leo and Piper liked to accuse him of, that is. And it was all because he’d been in the middle of a really boring meeting, eyelids heavy, when he realized something unsettling.

Leo didn’t sleep. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He did sleep. Obviously he slept, even if he made it abundantly clear that he would give just about anything to avoid it. But he didn’t do it often, always the first one on the ship awake in the morning and the last one up at night, and Jason could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Leo asleep, and they were all during the quest to save Juno when they’d been stuck together on the back of a giant metal dragon together with nowhere to hide. Since that realization, Jason hadn’t been able to focus on anything but that, and now he was just sitting there staring at Leo with a crease across the middle of his forehead while Leo sat with his legs dangling over the side of the boat, tinkering with some complicated bits of bronze and wires. 

“Are you, like, actually gonna talk to me, or should I go hang out with Hazel instead? She said she could teach me how to paint my nails without making a massive mess. Because as much as I hate painting my nails, it would be better than this.”

Jason blinked in shock and turned to see Piper looking at him with her eyebrows up near her hairline and a half-smirk on her lips. He chuckled softly and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was, uh, distracted.”

“You don’t say.” She cocked her head to the side. “What are you thinking about?”

“Leo.”

“Well, you are breathing, so I had assumed that much.”

Jason felt his cheeks flame and he scowled at her. “Shut up.”

Piper didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. “So, what, specifically, are you thinking about Leo?”

Jason sighed and let his eyes trail back over to Leo, who had put away his little project, and was now just staring out over the sea, the sun beaming down on his cheeks. Without thinking about it too hard, Jason called a tiny little breeze to blow over Leo, the wind gently tugging at his curls and making him smile in easy contentment. Jason shook his head and turned back to Piper. “You roomed with Leo at Wilderness, right?”

Piper’s brow puckered, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh, yeah. For, like, three months. Why?”

“Did you ever see him sleep?”

Immediately, Piper stiffened, and she bristled up defensively. It was a stance Jason was more than familiar with, seeing as both Piper and Leo fell into it the instant someone asked a question that touched a little too close to those sensitive parts of their pasts. Jason had learned by now that the best way to handle these moments was to just sit back and let them scowl at him suspiciously. He couldn’t get his feelings hurt and push at them or try to desperately backtrack what he said, he just had to sit there and wait until their hackles went down and they approached him like a hesitant alley cat of their own volition.

As expected, Piper’s shoulders relaxed and her brow smoothed out and she instead went to chewing her bottom lip while she studied him. Eventually, she spoke. “Leo… doesn’t like sleeping.”

“I’ve gathered that much,” Jason confessed. “Is there any reason for that? Any way I can help?”

“I dunno.” Piper’s gaze drifted over to where Leo was still sitting, enjoying the breeze Jason had called for him. “He doesn’t like being exposed. There’s not really anything you can do, other than wait for him to feel okay around you.” She hiked a challenging eyebrow at him. “You willing to do that? You ready to wait?”

For Leo? Anything. Jason shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure?” Piper asked. “It took, like, two months for him to get comfortable with me and we literally lived together.”

That was a startling revelation. The idea that there had ever been a point in history when Leo didn’t implicitly trust Piper was almost ridiculous. Still, he just shrugged in easy acceptance again. “Yeah, sure. He can take however long he needs. I’m not going anywhere.”

Piper gave him a beaming smile, and Jason knew he’d said the right thing. “You really aren’t, are you?”

Jason quirked his mouth up in a smile, and let his gaze settle comfortably on Leo again. This time, though, Leo glanced over, his eyes bright and his lips curled up lazily. Jason gave a little tiny wave and Leo tipped his head back with a laugh that Jason couldn’t hear, but still made his heart thump heavily in his chest. 

Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.

*-*-*

After that conversation, Jason had somewhat forgotten his observation. Piper had told him to wait for Leo to come to him, and he was more than willing to do just that. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Leo would eventually turn around and see Jason standing there with arms outstretched and allow himself to be wrapped up and squeezed tight. Metaphorically, that is. Literally, Leo was already more than comfortable with Jason’s proclivity for physical contact and his love of proximity, which Jason was glad for. If he hadn’t been allowed to fold his favorite people tight to his chest and give them gentle headbuts and rub their cheeks together, he’s pretty sure he would have started ripping his hair out. 

Piper didn’t exactly love all of Jason’s physical affection. She was happy to receive hugs and she’d hold his hand or press kisses to his cheeks, but she liked to keep it brief. She didn’t like being tangled up and held in place so Jason could show her just how much he appreciated her existence, and that was just fine with him. She still gave him those blinding smiles and spoke to him in that kind tone and would sit in silence at his side for hours at a time. Jason knew Piper loved him, she just needed room to breathe while she loved him.

Leo was an entirely different story, though. For as much as Jason wanted to tuck Leo into that little spot behind his ribs and beside his heart where he knew Leo would be safe forever, Leo seemed just as eager to crawl right under Jason’s skin and live there. There wasn’t a moment where Jason and Leo were relaxing together when Leo wasn’t all but plastering himself to Jason’s side. Not that Jason made it all that easy for him to do anything else, seeing as he was immediately reaching for Leo with grabby hands the moment he’d made himself comfortable on the couch. Piper liked to laugh at them, but Leo would always scoff and accuse her of jealousy from the comfort of his and Jason’s cuddle pile.

They were in the middle of one of those cuddle sessions when Jason was forcibly reminded of his conversation with Piper. The whole crew was piled up in the living room, having a Percy-mandated movie night. Annabeth had pulled the short straw (Jason wasn’t about to accuse anyone of cheating, but he highly suspected it) and she’d chosen Wizard of Oz of all things. Percy had gone completely red and bashful at her choice, which Jason didn’t understand until Piper leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper and told him and Leo that Wizard of Oz was the first movie Annabeth had ever seen, and it was a movie Percy had watched with her. Leo had snickered, but Jason confessed he found the gesture very sweet and more than a little romantic. Leo accused him of being a sap, his gaze soft and his smile fond.

Unfortunately, for as romantic a gesture as the choice was, the movie itself wasn’t exactly entertaining. Percy and Annabeth were obviously enthralled, and Hazel was still fascinated with any and all color film, but Frank was zoned out and playing with a Chinese finger trap, and Piper was actively snoring from her place on the floor in front of Jason and Leo. 

Beside him, Jason heard Leo huff and felt him burrow even closer to Jason’s side. He smiled softly and tugged Leo impossibly closer. “Tired?”

“Bored,” Leo corrected. He shifted around until he could grumpily squish his cheek up against Jason’s chest. “This movie is a snooze fest. Can’t believe this is how Percy introduced Annabeth to cinema. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Jason chuckled and rested his chin in Leo’s dark curls. “Don’t worry about it. If you do fall asleep, I’ll wake you up, if you want.”

Leo went stiff as a board, and Jason cursed himself, furious that he’d gone and drawn attention to the matter. Still, he deliberately kept his breathing slow and even, like he hadn’t said anything at all. Leo didn’t speak, but his fingers were tapping out Morse code messages on Jason’s chest so fast a professional decoder would have trouble keeping up, and Jason was half-certain Leo was going to hop to his feet and flee. 

Yet he remained still. 

“You’ll wake me up?” Leo asked softly. 

“Of course,” Jason promised without a second’s hesitation. “I’ll keep an eye out, make sure nothing interesting happens.”

Leo chuckled and settled back against Jason’s chest. “I’ll hold you to that, Superman.”

Leo never did fall asleep for the rest of the movie, or even the one they put on after. But he remained at Jason’s side, and his breathing was slow and even and his eyes drooped heavily. A sharp tension that Jason had never noticed before was suddenly absent from Leo’s shoulders, and Jason realized that for the first time ever, Leo was completely and totally relaxed. Leo wasn’t asleep, they hadn’t gotten there yet, but this felt important. 

Jason couldn’t help but press his giddy smile into Leo’s curls. Take as long as you need. I’ll be here. 

*-*-*

Jason was on night watch the next time he thought about Leo’s sleep issues. In all honesty, he liked the night watch, especially when the Argo II  was in the air, rather than the water. He liked prowling around the deck, empty other than himself, and getting lost in tracking the way the air flowed around the ship, keeping it aloft with a breathtaking combination of engineering and magic. Leo’s work in bringing the ship to life from nothing but a twelve-year-old crayon drawing had always impressed Jason, but there was something about getting to actually feel the way Leo’s work cut through his element that left him near breathless in wonder. 

Plus, if he was on the night watch, that meant none of his crew members were, and there was a little part of his brain that insisted he take care of them that he couldn’t ignore. If he was on night watch, that meant that all of his friends were safe and asleep in their beds, resting easy with the knowledge that Jason was awake to protect them.

Well, most of his friends were asleep.

“Leo?” Jason called softly. “What are you doing up here?”

Leo jerked upright with a sharp gasp, and he whipped his head around, eyes wide. When he saw that it was Jason looking at him, he sagged in relief and let his eyes slide back shut. “Hey, Jason.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Jason accused, keeping his tone gentle. He lightly stepped into the crow’s nest from where he’d been flying moments before, and took a seat at Leo’s side. He snaked his arm around Leo’s waist and tried not to feel too pleased when Leo slumped into his side and thunked his head down on Jason’s shoulder. “What are you doing up here?”

Instead of answering, Leo fiddled with the hem of Jason’s shirt for a moment. “What are you doing up here?”

“Feeling the air flow,” Jason answered easily. “I can sense it when I’m grounded, but it’s easier up here. If I focus, I can almost see the air currents and the wind moving around the ship.”

“Huh,” Leo said softly. “That’s neat.”

“It is,” Jason confirmed. He smiled over at Leo then. “I know I’ve said it before, but you really did a good job making this thing, Leo.”

Leo shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s not that great. Besides, it’s not like I built it by myself.”

Jason was shaking his head before Leo could even finish speaking. “No, it’s more than that. This ship is yours. Even if other people helped build it, you’re the one who made it, and everyone except you would agree. And it really is that great. I told you I was feeling the air, right? Do you know why I like doing that?”

“I figured it was some Sky Boy thing.”

“It’s not.” Jason closed his eyes and smiled softly, losing himself in the airflow again. “I like it because it lets me feel the ship in a way no one else can. I can feel the way you made it all work. I can feel the way the engine manipulates the air, I can feel the magic that it uses.” He chuckled quietly. “It’s all very Leo.”

“That’s, um–” Jason heard Leo swallow heavily. “That’s neat.”

“It’s amazing,” Jason corrected. “The work you did is amazing, Leo. You’re amazing.” He opened his eyes to see that Leo was already staring at him, cheeks vermilion, and he smiled. “This ship? It’s beautiful, Leo.”

“I-” Leo cut himself off with a choked noise and tucked his face into Jason’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Jason huffed out a quiet laugh and pinched out a few of the tiny flames that had sparked to life in Leo’s curls. “You’re welcome. I mean every word.”

Leo swallowed heavily enough for Jason to hear again. “I know you do.”

Jason hummed, content with Leo’s response and started combing his fingers through Leo’s hair. He curled each lock around his finger before pulling it taught and releasing it to watch it bounce back in place. Every now and then another little fire would spark to life, but he’d smother it just as quickly as it formed, delighting in the way the flame would dance over his fingers for just a moment.

Then, Leo broke the silence. “Do you still wanna know why I’m up here?”

Jason hummed softly, considering. “If you wanna tell me, yeah. If not, I’ll live with not knowing.”

“Okay.” Leo was back to tugging on Jason’s shirt hem, picking at the loose threads with his bitten-off fingernails. Jason said nothing, and just waited until Leo cleared his throat. “I, um, had a nightmare.”

Jason’s attention immediately piqued and he frowned. He wanted to ask so many questions. Was it a nightmare about the quest? Was it a message from a god? Or was it a nightmare not related to any demigod stuff at all? Was he dreaming about his past, or was it a classic teenage nightmare like showing up to school in his underwear? Did he want to talk about it? Was there anything Jason could do to help? Would he be content to sit back and let Jason fix everything that was wrong in his life or would that be too much to ask? 

Instead of any of that, he just nodded in sympathy. “So you come up to the crow’s nest after nightmares? Can’t sleep?”

“Don’t want to, more like,” Leo muttered. “I just– I hate that moment when you wake up, you know? That moment when you’re not in the dream any more, but you realize that you’re still in danger because you were just asleep. Makes me sick. So I come up here to get as far away from everyone as possible.”

Jason didn’t understand that feeling. Not fully, at least, but he doubted Leo expected him to. So, he just hummed softly. “I get it, man. You want some company, or do you wanna be alone?”

Leo’s fingers fisted in Jason’s shirt like he was worried Jason would leave, but his tone was light and teasing when he said, “You know I’ll never say no to your company, Superman.”

“Alright then,” Jason agreed easily, feeling like his chest was going to burst from pride. “You’ve got it for as long as you want it.”

They fell into silence after that, neither of them speaking a word until the sun rose up over the horizon and Piper called them down for breakfast. Leo just stayed curled up next to Jason, playing with his shirt hem and tracing patterns on his chest and tapping out messages Jason had no hope of deciphering. He didn’t sleep, but he did rest, and Jason was more than content to keep watch over him as he did so. 

*-*-*

Jason hadn’t been sleeping well. Not since Percy and Annabeth– Not since Rome. Every night he laid in bed, perfectly still like he’d been called to attention, and with a few practiced deep breaths, he was asleep, just like he’d been trained. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how many hours of sleep he got, he woke up the next morning just as exhausted as he had when he’d gone to bed. Every day he woke up and gritted his teeth through whatever the gods threw their way, before collapsing into bed and falling asleep so he could do it all again the next day.

But that wasn’t happening tonight. For some reason, Jason couldn’t sleep. He’d done everything he knew how to do, but there was something keeping him awake. Something gnawing at his consciousness that told him he couldn’t sleep. Something that said he had to stay awake. That there was something he needed to do. 

He growled softly and threw himself out of bed, storming (almost literally) down the silent halls. Coach hadn’t been enforcing the curfew recently, and even if he tried, Jason wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was at the end of his rope. He needed to get rid of this energy. He needed to find one of the training dummies and slash and hack at the thing until it was nothing but a sad pile of straw and Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. He needed to–

He froze suddenly, all the tension and aggression draining from his body in an instant. 

He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten there, but he realized he was outside of the engine room door, and he heard something that he couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t the sound of tears, but it was careful, even breathing, each inhale and exhale counted and measured out. It wasn’t the sound of tears, but instead the sound of fragile refusal of them. Considering where he was, there was only one person who could be on the other side of that door. 

Jason crept into the engine room, and as expected, Leo was there. He had his back to the door, his forehead pressed to the superheated metal of the main boiler, and he was breathing deeply, counting softly in Spanish with every breath. His hands were clenched in tight fists on either side of his face, and Jason could see the way he was visibly trembling from head to toe. Jason bit his lower lip for a moment before he called out in a hushed whisper, “Leo?”

Leo gave a full-body flinch and spun on his heel, eyes bright with fury. “What the heck, Jason?” he snapped. He roughly scrubbed one of his hands over his face to get rid of his scowl. “Don’t you know not to scare stressed-out demigods? Very good way to get skewered.”

“You don’t carry a weapon.”

“Charbroiled, then.”

Jason didn’t respond, he just furrowed his brow in concern. “Are you okay?”

Leo gave him a look. “Just peachy, dude.”

Jason sucked his teeth for a moment before he spoke. “I know Nico’s been spending a lot of time in the crow’s nest. Is this where you’ve started going after nightmares?”

Leo snorted derisively. “No nightmares here. In fact, I’m the least likely person on this ship to get nightmares.” When Jason made a questioning noise, he got a rueful grin in response. “You gotta sleep to have nightmares.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, and he swallowed around a lump in his throat. He looked at Leo a little closer and realized that the ever-present bags under his eyes were even darker and puffier than usual. “I’m a little scared to ask, but when was the last time you slept?”

Leo shrugged casually. “Rome.”

“Leo,” Jason breathed. He felt sick. “Leo, that was almost two weeks ago. How are you even still alive?”

“So long as I have a project to work on, I physically don’t need sleep,” Leo explained like he was walking Jason through another simple math problem. “It’s a gift from dear old dad.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut and took in a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout or cry, but he knew both would only make things worse. “Why?”

“Hm? Oh, I dunno. I guess since he’s the god of making stuff we get, like, super hyperfocus. I bet you the Athena kids can–”

“No. I mean, why are you doing this?”

Leo’s teeth clicked shut and he looked away from Jason. “Someone’s gotta keep this ship running.”

“You didn’t have to do this before.”

“Things are different now.”

Jason clenched his fists at his sides. “Leo, you need sleep.”

“Don’t you get it? I can’t,” Leo snapped, his fury from before returning. “I can’t sleep, Jason! I can try all I want and I’m never going to! It’s just never going to happen! At least this way I’m not being useless! I told you, I don’t need sleep.”

“You said you don’t physically need sleep,” Jason corrected. “Sleep is more than just physical. Everybody needs sleep to function. Good sleep.”

“I bet Percy and Annabeth are getting some really good sleep down in Tartarus.”

The air went tense between them and Jason couldn’t breathe. “Is that what this is about?”

Leo jerked his head away again. “No.”

“Liar,” Jason accused immediately. He stepped forward and gently took one of Leo’s hands in both his own. “Do you… Do you think you don’t deserve sleep? Because of that?”

Leo still wouldn’t meet his eye, but his hand twitched in Jason’s hold until he had his fingers wrapped around Jason’s pinky and he squeezed. “I– No, that’s ridiculous. I just wanna make sure the ship stays in one piece so we can rescue them. That’s all.”

Jason ignored him and stepped closer, staring at Leo’s face as hard as he could to make his point clear. “It wasn’t your fault, Leo.”

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes, it was.”

“It wasn’t,” Jason insisted. “I don’t care what you say. You’ve told me about the cookie already. You did that to save Frank and Hazel. Percy and Annabeth wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine or Piper’s or Nico’s or anyone’s. If it had anything to do with that fortune cookie, then it would be Nemesis's fault. Not yours, Leo. Never yours.”

Leo was shaking like a leaf in winter now, and when he looked up at Jason his eyes were wet with tears. “Jace?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired.”

Jason felt his heart shatter right into a million pieces. He dropped Leo’s hand, but only so he could hold open his arms in invitation. “Then sleep, Leo.” Leo stumbled forward the few steps between them before he crumpled into Jason’s chest with a sob. Jason squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped Leo up in a hug so tight it made his shoulders ache. He slowly lowered them both to the ground until he was leaning against a wall, and Leo was curled up against his chest in his lap. He pressed his trembling lips to Leo’s forehead. “Just sleep, Leo. I’ll take care of you.”

It took a long time for Leo’s tears to run dry, but eventually they did and his gut-wrenching sobs trailed off into the softest, gentlest snores Jason had ever heard in his life. Jason didn’t sleep at all that night. He stayed awake, arms wrapped securely around Leo and eyes boring holes in the door, daring anyone to come in and disturb the fragile peace that had fallen between them. Jason didn’t sleep that night, but Leo did, and that was all that mattered. 

*-*-*

Jason groaned as he shuffled down the hall, trying desperately to stretch out the ache in his back. He’d slept a little funny the night before, which meant, of course, that his whole body was going to be in pain all day. He once again found himself cursing sixteen-year-old Jason for doing, well, everything that he’d done, leaving thirty-year-old Jason to deal with the mess. Sixteen-year-old Jason may have been the one getting attacked by monsters and nearly dying on a bi-weekly basis, but thirty-year-old Jason was the one with a job, a caffeine addiction, and semi-chronic back pain, so who really had it worse, hmm? 

But for as much as some parts of getting older sucked, Jason couldn’t, and more importantly wouldn’t, say he hated it. He loved getting older, and he was keenly looking forward to every ache and pain and discomfort that came with getting to live the years ahead of him. Getting older meant sorting through junk mail and paying bills and long, frustrating phone calls with his internet service provider, but it also meant home. It meant deep breaths, knowing he was allowed to just be. It meant a house he’d helped pick out and a mattress that needed to be replaced after years of use and a coffee pot given to him for his birthday that was too fancy for him to properly use but still made a fantastic pot every morning. It meant knowing he was safe and happy and loved and that nothing was going to change that. 

It also meant a much more rigorous shaving routine, he thought to himself, scratching at the prickly fuzz on his cheek. He’d have to go to the bathroom and shave as soon as his coffee got started, otherwise he wasn’t going to get kissed.

He was suddenly interrupted by a very sharp nose being pressed hard in between his shoulder blades and thin arms being wrapped around his waist. He chuckled softly and squeezed the hands laced in front of him. “Good morning, Leo.”

“I was sleeping,” Leo complained in his sleep-thick slur, pressing even closer to Jason’s back like he was trying to fuse with his spine. “Woke me up.”

“I did not,” Jason protested. “I was very careful. You stayed asleep the whole time I was getting out of bed. How is this my fault?”

“You left,” Leo said simply. Jason turned around in Leo’s arms and Leo thumped his cheek down on Jason’s chest to scowl up at him. His hair was a mussed up mess, and his eyes were puffy and a little crusty with sleep, and his face was all smooshed up and covered in crease marks from their sheets, and his brow was furrowed in a furious pout. 

He was the single most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I left you,” Jason teased, stooping over to press their foreheads together. “I promise I was planning on coming back.”

“You better,” Leo mumbled. Jason leaned forward just a bit more to press their lips together and Leo let out a soft sigh of contentment. Then he lifted his hands to cup Jason’s cheeks like he always did, and he suddenly recoiled, flapping his hands around like he’d stuck them in something disgusting. “Bleh! Gross! Go shave your face!”

Jason laughed before he used his hold on Leo’s waist to drag him closer, and he started rubbing his hairy jaw all over Leo’s neck, just to hear him squeal. Once Leo resorted to smacking, Jason relented and just pressed their foreheads together again with a grin, delighting in the blotchy red beard-burn that was already starting to form. “I love you.”

 “Yeah, well, I actually hate you,” Leo informed him with a huff. To prove his point, he pressed a kiss to the tip of Jason’s nose. “Now, come on. I wanna go back to sleep.”

“Oh?” Jason’s eyebrows flew up near his hairline. “Am I allowed back in your bed? I thought you hated me.”

“I’ve decided that I love sleep more than I hate you,” Leo informed him. 

“And you can’t sleep without me?”

“Duh. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Jason chuckled softly, love blooming bright and warm in his chest. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s forehead, ignoring Leo’s gagging at the feel of his stubble. “Okay, I’ll be there. For as long as you want me, yeah?”

Leo grinned then and hugged Jason, eyes shining as he looked up at him. “Get ready for a very long day in bed then, Mr. Valdez.”

“I think I can live with that,” Jason smiled back, running his fingers through Leo’s curls. “You go back to bed and I’ll be there as soon as I get my coffee.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Leo groaned like the most put-upon man on Earth as he slumped out of the kitchen. When he was out of sight, he shouted down the hall, “And get that gross stuff off your face before you come back!”

Jason laughed then, loud and bright and filling the home he’d made with Leo. Still, he dutifully made his way to the bathroom to shave, though he did deliberately miss a tiny little patch under his jaw for Leo to pet and complain about later. Then he filled up his biggest coffee thermos, knowing he wouldn’t be given permission to leave the bed for several hours, and made his way to the bedroom, where he was welcomed in with lazy smiles and jaw-cracking yawns and luxurious, cat-like stretches. 

As always, Leo curled right up against Jason’s chest with a contented sigh. He didn’t fall asleep immediately, but he did completely melt, fiddling with the buttons on Jason’s shirt and tapping out I love you on Jason’s chest, which he returned each time with a kiss to Leo’s hair. But then he did fall asleep, right there in Jason’s arms, pressed right to Jason’s heart. In his sleep, he snored, the sound loud and grating like a chainsaw in need of a tune-up, and he drooled, and his face twisted up in weird expressions, and he managed to pin Jason’s arm in a way that kept him from drinking his coffee and almost immediately made it go numb. 

And he was beautiful. 

[watcheraurora]

The Ballroom

Ficlet that I wrote in like an hour instead of getting ready for bed. I watched the episode when it came out but the vibes just hit me now 1.2k words

For the record: this one is not shipping. Platonic only.

—

Etho stepped into the ballroom and tugged to make sure his mask was secure over his face. He was aware that masquerade balls usually involved full-face masks or one that covered the area around the eyes. Not so much a simple cloth covering the lower half of his face. But he preferred keeping his nose and mouth covered. Kept his peripheral vision free.

He wandered aimlessly through the crowd. If he was honest, he wasn't entirely sure why he was here. He wasn't really a high-society sort of person. Sure, he was friends with the princess, but he would never have imagined that she'd bother to reach out to him for such an occasion. They weren't that good of friends.

In the center of the dance floor, couples were spinning around. Almost dizzying just to watch. Most everyone was in much looser, flowing clothing compared to Etho's close-cropped formalwear. He also noticed his black color scheme and white hair was quite stark against the lighter, desaturated neutrals. Creams, beiges, tans, a bit of a sage green splash here or there. The colors and the loose clothing were all typical of this country and their solar-powered technology.

Etho lived in the jungle—though he didn't consider himself one with it, the way this princess' people considered themselves. He knew he was separate from it.

And he'd never felt the difference more starkly than being surrounded by hundreds of people in masks all in airy, light clothes while his were exactly opposite.

Eventually—thank the gods—he found his way to a punch table. Though he didn't really know how he was going to drink it without removing his face mask. He saw some people pushing their masks out of the way to drink theirs, but he wondered if that didn't defeat the whole purpose of throwing a masquerade.

"Had a feeling I'd find you lurking in a corner, sir," a playful voice remarked.

Etho twisted to see a familiar figure—almost as tall as himself—emerging from the crowd. Slipping between two people with an easy grace.

The princess wore a light, flowing green dress. Accented with gold jewelry. She wore no tiara. Instead a ring of sunflowers was woven into her long brown hair and a mask of gold vines covered her eyes. Though it couldn't hide how bright blue they were. The dress was shorter at the front—not quite reaching her knees—and longer at the back. Revealing the knee-high strappy sandals.

Etho was pretty sure he was the only one in the room who'd noticed that despite the rather flimsy appearance of the dress, she was armed.

"Well, this isn't really my usual gig, now is it, Your Highness?" he asked.

"Stop with the formality. Pearl is fine. You know that." She waved dismissively. "We don't really bother with such things here." She held a hand out for him. "Walk with me."

He crooked his elbow and offered it to her. She rested her hand on the bend to allow him to escort her properly.

"I wanted to invite you," Pearl began casually as they walked around the edge of the ballroom, where the crowd was thinner, "because I appreciate all the work you put into building the infrastructure around here. Just because I have the idea for putting together a postal system doesn't mean I have the technical knowledge of how to create one."

"I guessed as much," Etho replied casually. "That's why I accepted the invitation."

Pearl grinned. "I do appreciate all the effort it took. I mean, you practically built every mailbox by yourself."

He shrugged. "Happy to help my friends," he said. "And Tango helped. Especially with the most complicated work that I didn't want to do myself."

"Yes, well. He declined my invitation."

"Oh, if you think I don't like fancy balls, he detests them. I don't think you could pay him to wear formalwear." Etho snickered behind his mask. "I don't think he owns anything more dressy than cargo pants, come to think of it."

Pearl chuckled.

They reached the platform where the musicians were playing. "Just a moment," she said to Etho. She released his elbow and started moving the flowing folds of her skirt. "Do you dance, Etho?" She glanced up at him.

He snorted, his mask muting the noise a bit. "Not as much," he replied. "The 'dancing' I learned involves a lot of sharp and pointy things."

Pearl grinned. There was something trickster-ish about the glint in her eyes. "Well, allow me to teach you, then," she said.

She finally located whatever she'd been searching for in the folds of her gown—a music box made of red mangrove wood dangling from a gold chain off the leather belt worn over her corset. She twisted the key beneath it a few times and tapped the conductor of the musicians on the arm. He turned expectantly. She passed the music box over. He accepted it with a nod.

Pearl turned back to Etho. "Shall we?" she asked.

Etho offered his elbow again. "I can try. No guarantees I'll be any good."

Pearl smiled. "I have faith in you," she remarked, taking his arm.

She led him out onto the dance floor and showed him where to place his hands. One on her shoulder blade, the other holding her other hand.

They slowly made their way through the slow, simple, but airy waltz the musicians were playing. Etho was coordinated. He wasn't hopeless. He just wasn't used to such things. He got the basic steps quickly. He could follow the line of dance. He just wasn't going to be pulling off any complex tricks any time soon.

The musicians faded out their song.

"And now," the conductor said, "a special request from Her Highness, Princess Pearl."

The conductor held the music box up to a microphone.

It began plunking out a gentle melody.

Etho tilted his head to turn his ear to hear better. "I know this tune," he said softly.

"Hmm," Pearl hummed mischievously. They began dancing again. Carrying on the waltz as the music box carried on.

Something seemed to click. The tune sped up and the musicians started to play along with the box.

The other dancers slowed to a stop. The whole ballroom went silent apart from the music.

Etho and Pearl were the only ones still moving.

Etho looked around. "What is this? How did you do that?" he asked.

Pearl lifted his arm to twirl herself under it.

As she did, her beautiful dress turned into body armor. Her hair braided back.

A weapon appeared in her hand. "Well," she said with a grin, "I thought we should have an opportunity to dance in a way you're more familiar with as well." Her tone was light. Playful.

Etho couldn't help but smile behind his mask. "Let's dance, then."

Pearl tossed him the mace in her hand. He caught it easily. Another appeared in her other hand. "I do so love this song," she remarked as she swung.

[bloomeng]

Maybe I’m in the minority but I feel like there’s a way to have both have Clark/Bruce and Tim/Kon in a fic without making it weird. It’s totally a pet peeve but it’s been irking me because like it’s so easy to interpret Kon and Clark’s relationship as the complicated mess it is or acknowledge the nuance of Tim’s adoption into the Wayne family, that would automatically make the dual ships running in parallel less weird. But people flatten both relationships into father and son, which I don’t mind on its own, because there is a lot of interesting things to dig into there— especially with Clark and Bruce being in the unique position to understand each other’s version of parenthood. Again maybe it’s just my experience but I feel like I keep running into instances where both couples will be dating and then their parental relationships will also be emphasized and suddenly it’s weird.

[paceywittters]

ok so i know we probably don't need another ✨ chenford hot take ✨, but alas, i am going to share my thoughts because why not. i've seen a lot of people say that chenford feels weird post-breakup because they're so friendly with one another - and it's true, i agree, they're being incredibly relaxed with one another in a way that doesn't feel earned at all...but my issue for quite some time is that they didn't just not earn this phase of their relationship, this is a trend. chenford has consistently had drama/resolutions that feel unearned within the narrative since their relationship veered overtly romantic.

chenford went from the slow build of seasons 1-4 to the fast-paced version of the ship we met in season 5, which has always bothered me. i loved the slow burn of chenford, but something about the way they went from facing some genuinely difficult complications to their relationship in mid season 5 to just...skirting around them with ease (at least, for a while) was off-putting. lucy solving tim's work issue in one fell swoop with the 5 player trade was too simple (despite personal ramifications - i mean in a relationship/interpersonal sense). the fact that they were just...allowed to be together while working together was so easily resolved and deeply uncomplicated, despite us consistently being told how complicated it was going to be. from 5x01 to 5x09, it seemed like chenford were going to dive into something that wasn't easy, but was worth the risk.

...but then it was...stupidly easy.

the relationship moving so quickly and having a smattering of incredibly simple complications that were resolved almost immediately made the post 5x09 era of chenford feel so unearned to me - not to mention that, yes, they knew each other and they'd fallen for each other...but before they were dating, chenford weren't really friends. they went from tim being her TO to lucy being his aide to them being friendly at work...and sure, it built into personal moments here and there, but not enough for me to feel like they'd genuinely gotten to a point where they were ready to jump into a relationship. it didn't feel earned, to me - and i was okay with that as long as it was eventually addressed that they jumped in fast and didn't much care about the consequences.

regardless, i was hype to see chenford actually get together. i figured the way they rolled them out in the end of season 5 would surely lead to some addressing of their issues throughout season 6 - because, of course we could all see the glaring problems in their relationship, right? tim's penchant for closing off/shutting down in difficult moments mixed with lucy's lack of awareness of her overstepping tendencies and general over-inflated/displaced sense of ambition surely had to be addressed, right?

6x01 and 6x02 made it clear trouble was coming, and while i was excited to see them split up so they'd actually have to face their issues, the way the breakup was executed was...an unnecessary misstep. creating new drama with tim to make him seem like the only one who had any issues was weird. chenford already had some fairly major problems they could've mined for the breakup, but creating new drama made it much bigger, craggier, and entirely unmanageable. chenford, who had only dealt with minor issues that were resolved quickly and efficiently up to that point, didn't even have the capacity to address their initial issues, so they weren't at all equipped to deal with something so complicated.

now, we're at a point where chenford seems to have moved past their relationship-ending struggle without us seeing any real work from either of them (and, yes, i do think lucy has fault in their relationship breakdown - happy to talk about that elsewhere if you want). as viewers, we're expected to just follow along with the trajectory of their relationship and feel satisfied with the idea that lucy's taken tim's elevator declaration and moved into a place where she can make coded jokes about their sex life, or the notion that tim's "done work" on himself without knowing anything about it.

it's not earned. we haven't seen any of it - and the story just telling us these things have happened isn't enough...we need to see more of the build up, which the rookie has always been so good at. that's what i think is the most disappointing to me: that the first seasons of the rookie were so incredible for the ability to build, but they've dropped the ball now that an actual romantic relationship is playing out.

at this point, i would've preferred a near-miss in season 5 rather than them getting together at all. i would've preferred more build to a point where by the time chenford got together, their issues within themselves and each other had been resolved. i've been willing to follow along with what they're doing, but the way they've gone about it has me so much less invested than i've ever been in the rookie. it sucks, because i still enjoy the show - but i don't recognize this iteration of chenford at all.

anyway, tl;dr: that thing you feel like you're missing is the build up to this drama, to this resolution, to this odd version of friendship, to any reconciliation. the building blocks are not there, and that's why it feels empty and off-putting, at least in the way i see it.

[alwayssassydreamer]

I Hate Myself For Loving You

Day 15 of Kikitober (sorry i wrote a wrong prompt down for day 15 so this doesn't quite fit but I'm still posting it hope it's ok)

A/N: someone (I forgot who - sorry) gave me this idea and it turned out kinda weird as i was trying to think of an interrogation tactic that would not involve physical and not too much emotional pain. But in the end Kid is just a big softie. As always not proofread

Plot: you're after a treasure but got caught by pirates who try to make you give up the location of it, things get even more complicated when Kid arrives and demands answers but not about the treasure

Warnings: mention of torture, maybe hurt?, reader is a captive, i seriously have no idea what to put here,

Characters: Kid x F!Reader

You thought it would be easy here, meeting this man who could help you with the map that was leading to a hidden treasure, talk to him, thank him for taking his time and then get the fuck out without anybody noticing that you were even there.

But you were not expecting this pirate crew.

Bound to a chair in a dimly lit room on an enemies ship. That's not quite how you pictured this to turn out.

"Tell me dear, someone told me that you might know where the treasure is, is that true?" a rather old man with a brown beard you guessed to be the captain, asked you.

"Treasure? What kind of treasure? Never heard of a treasure here. but If you find it I'd like to have a share of it." you said looking him dead in the eye.

He stroked his beard a crooked grin on his face before he moved closer grabbing your face squeezing your cheeks.

"You think I'm an idiot?" Well yeah, that's what you were thinking.

"Someone told me that you were asking questions about a specific map and I come to think that this map might be the one leading to the gold" he hissed squeezing even harder. Damn that was getting really uncomfortable.

"Come on sweetheart tell us about the map" a tall and bulky man shouted.

"Why should I tell a pathetic pirate crew like yours anything" you snapped trying to get his hand off your face.

The crew erupted in laughter, confusing you.

"Well I guess we'll have to show you what this pathetic pirate crew is capable of. Maybe then you will talk to us" he threatened a mischievous grin on his face.

You had to admit you were a little scared now. Pissing them off was a rather stupid idea after all.

"Get me my interrogation box" the captain ordered and you swallowed hard.

Having something that's called an interrogation box did not sound good - not at all.

The captain took a chair and sat down in front of you placing the box on his lap. In it a lot of different knives, some sharp some seemed kinda blunt, varying in size and something that looked like a hammer.

The little scared feeling turned now into a big scared feeling not going unnoticed by the captain.

"What's wrong dear, fear sinking in. Not so tough anymore aren't you" he taunted as his fingers gliding over his tools.

"That should do for the warm up" he said picking a smaller knife with a clean and sharp looking blade.

Wavering it in front of you he moved closer to your arm. Just as he was about to cut you with it a man of his crew rushed towards him whispering in his ear.

The captain looked well different. Whatever the man told him it made the him get up. His face a mix of fear and frustration.

"I'll be right back. In the meantime how about you entertain our little prisoner" he said in a threatening way.

His men nodded and smiled a devilish smile at you.

Ok maybe the captain wasn't that bad after all. The fact that you were being held in this room tied to a chair surrounded by men who already undressed you with their eyes made your stomach twist.

The first one approached you moving a finger from your arm up to your neck.

"Fuck off" you yelled trying to wiggle away.

"There's no going anywhere darling, you're stuck with us, the pathetic pirate crew." a man with a scar running down his chest taunted.

"If you touch me I'm going to cut your fucking hands off" you said desperately but this only made the men laugh at you.

"Such a feisty one. I think we're gonna have a lot of fun with you" the tall man with the beard growled as his thumb brushed over your lips.

You had to think - fast if you wanted to get out of here in one piece.

"Let's see what you're hiding underneath" a third man with sleek dark hair laughed as he grabbed your shirt ripping it open leaving you in your bra as the shirt hung loosely over your shoulders.

"What a nice view" he mocked liking his lips as the other two took a step back to let the sight sink in. His hands were moving closer trying to touch your skin when the door to the room suddenly swung open.

"What's going on here" a deep voice shouted behind you.

The men were startled, fear across their faces.

"I'm sorry sir we were just havin some fun" the dark haired man apologized with a shaky voice.

You heard heavy footsteps moving closer.

"Look who we have here" the strangly familiar sounding voice said as the footsteps stopped in front of you.

"Oh fucking hell, no" you said as you looked right into Kid's eyes.

"Oh yes." he mocked with a smugly grin. He looked you up and down smiling at your demise.

"I've been told that you were messing with my subordinate crew about some treasure and I've gotta admit I love the sight of you bound to a chair unable to get away" he continued making fun of you as his huge frame hovered above you.

"Fuck off, asshole"

Kid's eyes wandered to the interrogation box.

"What's with that. Were you about to torture her" he asked pointing at the box.

"She wouldn't tell where we can find it, so we decided to help her talk" the captain said as his crew chuckled.

"You think you could get her to talk with that. She's tougher than that and too stubborn to give in believe me" Kid stated looking at you.

"But sir I'm-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kid yelled as he leaned forward his face close to yours.

"Funny how things worked out, huh? Here we are again. You, me, and some unfinished business" he almost whispered. You tensed not knowing where this was going.

"Get the fuck out of here" he suddenly shouted not removing his eyes from you.

You heard some shifting around you and then the pirates leaving while you were unable to avoid Kid's gaze.

"What's with this treasure" he asked his voice low and dangerous.

"I have no idea why everyone believes I know something about it" you said trying to be convincing.

Kid placed his flesh hand on your thigh and his metal hand on the chairs armrest as he leaned even closer trapping you beneath him and whispering in your ear. "I know you're lying. I know you better than anyone else" His lips brush against your ear his hot breath tickling you.

He moved a little to look you in the eyes before flashing a small smile.

The moment the pirates left was the moment the tension shifted. You weren't scared of getting physically hurt you knew Kid would never do that to you. Though you were still a little anxious. Kid had other ways to get what he wanted.

"What now" you asked nervously.

"Now I'm going to continue the interrogation my way, unless you want to talk to me" he growled evilly.

"Wait what-" Panic was rising inside you.

"Yeah I will have you answer every question I ask" he taunted as he dragged a finger from your collarbone between your boobs and down to your belly button, sending shivers down your spine, knowing exactly what he's doing.

He kept staring at his finger which still rested on your skin before he lifted his head.

"Now let the fun begin. The first question is easy. What's with this whole treasure thing?"

You sighed as he leaned back on the chair arms crossed.

"I might have found a map to a hidden treasure and a man on this island helped me reading it as I tried to leave your friends caught me" you explained.

"Where is the map"

"Like hell I tell you that's my treasure" you complained.

"That's not the correct answer" he smirked as he got off the chair to crouch down right before you. He grabbed one of your legs lifted it up and attacked your inner thigh with his mouth.

You gasped out of surprise cursing the shorts you wore. A small moan escaping your lips as you could feel him smile into your skin.

"Fuck stop that" you whined. He stopped but didn't let go of your leg.

"Then answer my question" he demanded

"It's in my boot. The one on the leg you're holding"

Gentle fingertips moved along your leg to your boot before pulling the map out.

"Good girl" he teased as he put your leg down and took his seat again.

"That was the easy part, now it will get tough"

"Great" you said as you tried to think of a way out.

He hesitated and suddenly something in his demenour changed.

"Why did you leave" he asked catching you off guard.

Suddenly the tension in the room became unbearable. You wanted out right now. The memory of the day you left him was too painful and you didn't want to think about it. Seeing him there right in front of you was already hard enough.

You lowered your head and he knew you wouldn't say a word. He got angry. He wanted, no he nedded to know why.

"You don’t want to talk about it?" Kid tilted his head, eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "Fine. I’ll just have to get my answers" he snapped before attacking you again this time his mouth made contact with the tender flesh of your belly. He started biting, sucking and pulling on it - probably leaving marks.

"Kid" you stuttered voice shaky.

"Don't 'Kid' me now. What was it? Was I not enough? Did you find someone better?" he asked angrily as his mouth kept roughly devouring you. Knowing that this would get to you, it always did.

How you had missed this. How you were craving for his lips all over your body. But you couldn't let this happen. No. You left him almost a year ago, determined to never meet him again - the memories of your time together too painful.

He stopped his assault and instead placed small kisses from your waistline up to your chest before moving to your neck.

"You changed" you hitched as the sensation of him sucking on your neck became too much. He stopped, letting go of you.

You took a deep breath. "You changed - not for the good."

"What do you mean?" he asked and you were sure you could hear anger in his voice.

"You've become ruthless, and you pushed me away because you became obssessed with power and revenge and I couldn't take it anymore" you continued biting back a tear .

For a moment he stood there saying nothing but you could see his jaw clenching.

"You couldn't take it! Did you ever wonder what it was like for me when you just left" he shouted, now making you angry too.

"For fuck's sake I was constantly worried about you" you almost screamed. Kid blinked, taken aback by what you just said, though he tried not to show it outright. "You started to throw yourself into danger almost like you were on a suicide mission, like your life doesn't matter" you continued as the anger slowly subdued.

Kid stared at you for a long moment clenching his fist. "And all this time, you never thought to tell me this"

"What should I have said. Oh love please stop being a fucking menace because I'm terrified that you could die. Would you have listened to me?" and there was the anger again.

He said nothing knowing that you made a point. He would have listened to you but he probably would have brushed your concerns off.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you simmered, heavy with unresolved feelings.

"Do you still love me?" he asked looking at you intensely as you couldn't stop a tear from rolling down your face.

"You know the answer" you mumbled.

This moment, this vulnerability in your gaze reminded him of the times you've spent together. He started to realize that he missed you more than he wanted to admit.

"Last question before the games' over" he said his voice a mixture of anger, frustration and fear.

"Would you give me a second chance"

"I...." you paused not knowing what to say. Part of you wanted to scream yes but another part reminded you of why you left him.

"Forget it this whole thing was stupid from the start" he got up angrily and frustrated knocking the chair down in the process before aggressivly freeing you from your restraints.

"You're free to go better take the opportunity" he growled as you rubbed your wrists. You got up and moved towards the door hand already on the handle when you stopped and turned to look at him.

"What were you doing on this ship?" you asked eyes narrowing.

"None of your business" he snapped avoiding your gaze, muscles tensing.

You stepped closer stopping in front of him. "Funny that a treasure map that so many would like to have in their hands ends up in mine." you started observing him closely. "Now that I think about it what's even funnier is that on this whole treasure hunt I not once had to fight off someone or even got in trouble"

He tensed his jaw clenching, eyes focused on the ground.

"Why" you asked softly.

Your words hit a nerve, and Kid finally looked at you, his expression torn between anger and frustration.

"You think I let you run around chasing this treasure knowing how many other pirates are after it without keeping an eye on you."

You looked at him confused

"I had someone slip you the map, I remembered how your eyes gleamed everytime we went on a treasure hunt. So I made sure you got it, but then I found out that this was a map a lot of people wanted and i got worried." he continued his explanation

"You should never find out but who would have guessed that I had to jump in against my own subordinates." He mutters almost ashamed.

"You protected me the whole time?" you hadn’t expected this, heart racing as you tried to process the revelation.

Kid scoffed trying to hide his emotions. Secretly hoping that this might bring you back to him. Even though he knew better.

"Softie" you teased with a small laugh.

He stepped closer to you. "If you keep mocking me I'll tie you back down" he growled making you raise your hands in defense.

"And now go, before I change my mind and drag you back into this mess." he muttered. You could almost see his heart ache, no matter how hard he tried to hide it he didn't want you to go.

Once again you hesitated it was as if your head was already out the door but your heart couldn't move.

"Why are you doing this to me? To you? You should have let me go." You said close to tears.

"You think I can just turn it off? That I can forget everything we had? I may not be good at this 'feelings' crap, but even I know when I’m not ready to let go" he scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"There was not a day I wasn't thinking about you" you almost whispered as you closed your eyes the truth weighing heavily on your chest

Kid froze not quite believing what he just heard. He swallowed hard running his hand through his hair. You had meant to keep your feelings buried, to shield you from the pain.

"Even after everything?" He asked his voice unusally calm.

"I did, even when I shouldn’t have. I thought about all the things we shared, the way it ended… everything"

Kid’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

"I thought about you too, every damn day. But it was easier to pretend I didn’t." He replied.

KId's vulnerability was raw and that's why you appreciated this so much. The fact that he let you see this side of him meant more than anything to you.

But it also made everything so much more complicated.

"What now?" You asked fumbling nervously with your fingers.

"You leave but the map remains with me" he said coldly, trying to convince himself that this was the best for both of you.

"Seriously! That's my map and my treasure. And i won't let you take it from me" you shouted a mix of anger and boldness in your voice.

He looked at you and laughed devilish.

"Keep on dreaming mouse, the map is mine and now you better leave" he said dangerously as he waved the map before you.

You tried to grab for it but he just lifted it over your head . You lunged forward trying to reach for it until he wrapped his metallic arm around your waist.

The heat of his body causing your cheeks to flush. A shiver running down your spine as his muscular body was pressed against yours.

This was wrong you shouldn't enjoy it yet you did.

You looked at him leaning closer your lips mere inches from his. Both of your hearts were racing. You wanted to kiss him so badly but then you snatched the map out of his hand, wirggled out of his grasp and made for the door.

"Better hurry big boy otherwise you might lose sight of me" you teased as your ran out of the door smiling.

He stood there for a moment dumbstruck before an evilly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The thrill of the chase stirred something primal in him, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

"You can run all you want, but you know I love a good chase" he shouted after you.

[dolihannah]

I mean we have a lot of Odysseus what ifs but what about some telemachus what ifs? Do you have anything in mind?

Some of them are reserved later for my fic.

With others it's complicated because Tele's life will obviously be affected by the life of his parents so it's hard to write just an au for him.

Not a lot would change in his routine if it happened that he had something unnatural since he would still want to protect his mother and I don't like shipping his with suitors.

Another thing is that I am personally more attached to Telemachus from the Odyssey instead of the one from Epic.

An aus/headcanons I can possibly share now are that:

- Telemachus has feathers in his hair. They are short and easy to miss at first but any time he is very happy or embarrassed they puff up so his hair looks fluffier.

- Neo (Achilles' son) declared himself Tele's rival without Tele knowing about it. Neo is partly jealous of the fact that Odysseus refused his offer in joining him and with how now Ody was a father of someone else than him. Neo challenges Tele for various things to prove that he's a better son than Tele meanwhile Telemachus just thinks he got himself a weird friend who enjoys competitions.