#maybe if i stop tagging every ship name and make a decision something will end up sticking

[between-two-fandoms]

Does anyone else think Hen's finally and the I've-always-known sparkle in her eye could also be about Tommy? She's proud of Buck, there's no doubt about that. But what if she's also proud Tommy is allowing himself to be his authentic self now? She watched him during everything at the 118 and knows how far he's come to get to this point. I'm sure someone else has posted this by now, but I thought of it and wanted to see if anyone else had similar thoughts about this. I really need to see an on-screen conversation between Tommy and Hen please.

[scarasimping]

love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her. 

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age. 

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him. 

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath  "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target. 

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area. 

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention. 

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?"  You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle. 

"Speak." 

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt. 

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade,  and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless. 

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat." 

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent. 

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew. 

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away. 

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

taglist: @danfelions @bleachisfood @klanxii @nillajhayne @call-me-nayo @pinkiepiescanonn @etherisy @kazuuhhaaaa @featuredtofu @ulquiorraswife @skyoverkill1 @wandererskitten   @lxkeeeee

[fangirl-writes]

Kiss and Tell

5sos x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing probably

Notes: the quarantine chats are dangerous. I could have made this fic so much longer than I did and I really wasn’t sure how to end it tbh 😅

Summary: You've kissed all the boys at some point or another so they call upon you to settle an argument.

“What.” You deadpanned when your face popped up on the screen.

“Y/N!”

You narrowed your eyes. They were all smiling at you a little too sweetly.

“What.”

“Why do you assume we want something from you?” Calum asked.

“Because you never fucking let me into these things unless you want me to do something,” You replied and they laughed. “So what do you want?”

“We need you to settle an argument,” Ashton said.

“About what?” You asked, taking a drink from your water bottle.

“Well, you know how you’ve kissed all of us at one point or another?”

You choked on your water and they burst into laughter again.

“Great, yeah, I could be dying over here and you fuckers are laughing. I feel the love.” You said, face heating up.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Luke said through his laughter.

“Who’s the better kisser, Y/N?” Michael asked, swaying back and forth in his seat.

“I’m not answering that!”

“Come on, Y/N!” Ashton encouraged. “The fans want to know!”

You groaned, burying your face into your sweater covered hands. “Couldn’t you have asked someone else?”

“All the other girls we know are biased! Plus you’re the only one who has kissed us all.”

“Oh,” Michael interjected, looking at the chat. “Speaking of, the fans would like to know the story for each of these kisses.”

You let out another loud groan that set them into another fit of laughter. “None of you fuckers told me this was live.”

“I can vouch for some scenarios,” Ashton said. “One of us was obviously present for each kiss, um” - he cleared his throat - “she kissed me...actually, some of you probably saw when she kissed me during a- aaah, what’re they called?”

“Keeks,” you said, coming out of your hiding.

“Shit, yeah, that’s right. It was a joke to a one direction song or something.” he replied. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, chat’s right. It was in a car and ‘kiss you’ by 1D was playing. So I puckered my lips towards her, as you do,”

The other boys and you laughed.

“And, uh, she let me kiss her. Like the song says.”

“And I regret that decision every day.” You said.

“Oh!”

“Ooh.”

“Harsh.”

“Ouch,” Ashton said, smiling. “That- that was only a peck though, you didn’t even get the full Ashton experience.”

You wrinkled your nose and stuck your tongue out at him. He stuck out his right back.

“She kissed me in a game of spin the bottle,” Michael piped up.

“When we were fifteen,” You said. “And I remember you used way too much tongue.”

Michael blushed a little bit. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining,”

“You were fifteen, bro, she was just happy to be kissed,” Calum said, making the group laugh.

“Yeah, imagine having to watch that,” Luke said. “It was pretty gross but Y/N seemed to enjoy it at the time.”

You laughed. “Like Cal said, I was just happy to be kissed,” you said, winking at Michael.

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Ouch,”

“I think you kissed me during one of the old music videos, right Y/N?” Luke asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, but I think it got cut from the final thing. I don’t remember which one it was.”

“Was it She Looks So Perfect?” Calum asked.

“No, I don’t think so,”

“Oh my gosh!” Michael exclaimed. “Remember when we tried to get Y/N to run into the shot in her bra and a pair of American Apparel underwear?”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Oh my god, yeah!”

“And she would jump into Luke’s arms at the end?”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“I couldn’t believe you guys even had the guts to ask me that.” You said. “I told them no, of course, but they didn’t drop the subject the entire time they were filming.” 

“So it definitely wasn’t She Looks So Perfect.”

“No,”

“Was it Don’t Stop?”

"Nah, she kissed Calum on the cheek in that one,”

Calum giggled, a small blush spreading across his face.

“Wasn’t one of the recent ones was it? Not No Shame or Easier?”

“No, definitely not, we’d have remembered that.”

“Fuck was it something from Youngblood?”

“Not Girls Talk Boys was it?”

“No, no, no,”

“Jesus, how many music videos am I in?” 

“I think you’re in them all.”

“I’m in all of them?” You said, shocked.

“You didn’t know that?” Ashton replied.

“No, I didn’t know that. I mean I knew I was in a lot but I didn’t think it was them all.”

“Yeah, you always have some sort of cameo,” Luke said. “Even in Try Hard though you refused to ride the Rollercoaster.”

“Fuckin’ hate those things,”

“Oh, found it!” Michael exclaimed, a video playing in the reflection of his glasses. “It was in Good Girls, but it was cut.”

“Thought so,” You replied.

“It was during that slowed down, echo-y part.” Michael continued, dragging the video back a little bit.

“Oh, yeah, they had you jump up on stage and just, like, aggressively kiss Luke,” Ashton said.

You all laughed.

“Yeah. I remember that now. They wanted me to be one of the bad girls which I am absolutely not-”

“What do you mean? That song was about you.”

“I think the fuck not Mr. Irwin.”

That brought on more laughing.

“Yeah, don’t go looking that up,” You said. “Let’s just say there’s a reason it was cut.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Michael defended.

“I disagree, I’ve seen it.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about your strong emotions about this, Y/N,” Luke said with a laugh.

You laughed in return. “Trust me, Luke-ster, you were not the problem.”

“We’re getting off topic here,” Ashton interrupted. “How was the kiss, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, a small blush creeping across your cheeks. “It...wasn’t that bad... Better than Michael’s anyway.”

“Hey!”

You laughed and Luke shot you a wink through the camera.

“From the video it looks like you were enjoying it, Y/N,” Michael said with a smirk, getting you back for the comment.

“Fuck off Michael it was acting,”

"Mm hm, whatever you say,”

Your face was hot as you remembered it. The director had wanted it to be hot and intense. Wanted you to act like the girl from the song, which was hard for you on its own but you also had to full on kiss Luke in front of a whole bunch of people.

You were glad it got cut.

“The chat says it was hot,” Ashton read with a laugh.

You groaned. “After that behind the scenes video was released fucking (You + Luke’s Ship Name) was all over the place.”

Luke laughed. “I got tagged in a shit ton of Tweets, too.”

You nodded in agreement. “Not that I haven’t been shipped with all of you at one point or another,”

“I bet there’s still some fanfiction out there,” Michael said.

You laughed. “You would know,”

“When’d you kiss Calum?” Ashton asked.

“Drunk at a party,” Calum answered for you, sheepishly.

You gave him a lopsided grin. “That’s super dumb, Cal, I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “It’s okay,”

“You’re apologizing for kissing him?” Luke asked, grinning.

You blushed, laughing. “I guess?”

“That doesn’t totally count, you were drunk!” Ashton said.

“What you want me to kiss him again?”

“Maybe!”

You were all sent into a fit of laughter.

“See? Why do you guys even need me here? You know the stories.” You said, wiping your eyes from laughing so much.

“Because we can’t say who the best kisser is! And neither can any of our girlfriends. You are our unbiased party.”

“How do you know I’m unbiased?” You teased, putting them into a talking-over-each-other frenzy. You laughed. “Seriously, guys, all of those kisses were so long ago. I can’t give a good answer.”

“We just all need to kiss you again,” Luke joked.

“No way!” You protested.

“Why not?” Ashton asked.

“Because you have girlfriends! And that’d be weird...”

“I gotta agree with her,” Michael said. “She’s our sister from another mister, it’d be weird.”

“Sister from another mister?”

“Shut up, Luke,”

“Okay, well, now that I’ve slacked off you with guys for a while I should get back to work,” You said.

“You work for us, what could you possibly have to be doing right now?”

“Unlike you boys, I actually do work.”

They laughed.

“This is our work! We’re catering to our audience.” Michael said.

“Whatever you say,” You replied with a smile. “See you, guys.”

“Bye Y/N!”

You left the meeting and opened your twitter.

‘I’m not kissing them so don’t ask’

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 11: A Squeeze

Warnings: mentions of violence and anxiety, people getting shot, reader gets tense, Mando is extremely touch starved, and softness.

Author’s Note: Chapter 11! This one is one of my personal favs, so I hope you enjoy!

Gif by bestintheparsec

As you traveled with the crew near the outskirts of town, you couldn’t stop thinking about what the child had done the night before.

Your entire life, death has plagued you. Everywhere you went you carried the guilt of death and knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had heard legends of a Sith named Darth Plagueis who had the power to stop death, but he was deep in the dark side.

You were never going to go down that road.

All you knew was this little kid was powerful. More powerful than you realized, and definitely more powerful than Mando realized. He had been so concerned about keeping this child safe for so long, when in reality, the kid had the ability to keep Mando safe the whole time.

But at the end of the day, the Empire was still around. They would figure out the child’s powers eventually if they kept coming after him, and you were not going to let what happened to you happen to him.

You had been in deep thought for so long, you barely noticed Mando giving a little tap on your elbow. You were a little startled, but relaxed at Mando’s voice.

“You ok?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah… I’m ok,” you respond. “I just… never knew that was possible,” you say, referring back to the child.

You looked down at his sleeping form in the pram next to you, and you smiled at his vulnerable state. What could such a little brain like that dream about?

Mando went quiet after you responded to his concern, and you knew it was because there really isn’t a good way to respond. He obviously didn’t know the kid’s potential either, and he was probably in even more shock than you were.

“Thank you, for checking in on me,” you say, finally turning around to meet his gaze. You had been riding on the same blurrg for a while, but you were trapped in your own head. His closeness to you was starting to make a blush crawl up your neck.

He nodded in an understanding way, and you headed on.

~~*~~

After some time, you noticed that Karga and his two bounty hunters were talking in whispers as they walked in front of you, and that obviously rubbed Cara the wrong way.

“You guys think they’re having second thoughts?” she asked in a teasing tone, and you returned a breathy laugh.

You tried to hide your smile, but that had been the first time she acknowledged you in days, and she was even joking with you? You didn’t want to get her hopes up, but maybe Cara was having second thoughts as well.

“Could be,” Mando replied. “I need you two to help me keep an eye on them.”

You and Cara nodded your heads, and scanned the hunters’ bodies with your eyes for a few minutes. The three of you had switched to being on foot while Kuiil took the only remaining blurrg.

All of a sudden, a bluff overlooking the town appeared, and Karga was gazing down at the city below.

“I guess this is it,” he said, but he was still facing the view.

The other two bounty hunters had stated to make their way behind you, and the alarms in your head were blaring.

You heard every step, every ruffle, and every breath they made. And it was driving you crazy.

They were at your backs, but you had your longspear in hand. You had better skills than these two by a long shot.

Suddenly, Karga spins around, and fires at the two bounty hunters who instantly hit the ground.

You drew your own weapon, while Mando and Cara approached Karga from either side with their weapons drawn as well.

You knew it. This man was not to be trusted. He could have shot the kid!

“There’s something you should know,” Karga says, and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Please. Enlighten us,” you say sarcastically, but you have venom in your voice. Karga can feel it, so he immediately transitions into his explanation.

“The plan was to kill you and take the kid,” Karga says, and your blood boils.

“But after what happened last night… I couldn’t go through with it. Go on, you can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn’t violate the code. But if you do, this child will never be safe.”

Your weapon was still at the ready, and Cara and Mando didn’t seem convinced either.

“We will take our chances,” Cara says.

“Perhaps you should let him speak,” Kuiil says, and you glance over your shoulder to look at him. This poor man had been though a lot, yet his voice exuded such gentleness. It reminded you of Mando’s voice when he talked to you.

“We both need the client eliminated,” Karga said, “let me take the child to him, and then you three…”

“No,” Mando interupts. He lowers his blaster, and glances at you to lower your weapon.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Cara seems to have the same reaction.

“What are you doing,” she asks, and you are wondering the same thing.

“As long as the Imp lives, he will send hunters after the Child,” Mando says, and you are starting to understand what he’s getting at.

“Bring me. Tell him you captured me. Get me close, and I’ll kill him,” Mando says to Karga, and you hate the gleam of excitement that flashed in Karga’s eyes.

“That’s a good idea,” Karga responded. “Give me your blaster.”

“This is insane,” Cara said, turning to look at you. You see Mando giving his blaster to Karga, and you honestly don’t even know what to think.

Karga just openly admitted to betraying you and trying to kill Mando, so there was no way you would trust him in the slightest. But at the same time, what other choice did you have? The child had to be safe, and Mando was right. The hunters won’t ever stop.

You give Cara a look of pity, but you lower your longspear. Your shoulders slightly relax, and you feel your grip loosening.

“What else can we do?” you ask her, and she looked away in disgust.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Cara said. “I’ll tell them I caught you.”

“Then she can bring the child,” Karga said, and Cara started to relax a little.

“No,” Mando said firmly. “The kid goes with y/n back to the ship.”

You and Mando were normally on the same page, but you had to admit, that didn’t really make any sense.

“But without the child none of this works,” Karga said, and you hated that you agreed with him.

“I have a plan,” he says to the two of them, and then he strides over to you.

“I need you to ride to the ship with Kuiil and the kid and seal yourselves in. Engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors,” Mando says to you as he guides the Child in his pram over to your arms.

You look into Mando’s visor, trying to find his eyes, but an evil, anxious part of you starts to awaken.

This could be the last time you stare into that helmet.

If this goes wrong, Mando and Cara would be almost laughably outnumbered by the Imps.

You continue to search for his eyes, and you sigh quietly. You have to keep yourself together for him.

Mando breaks the eye contact to rub the child’s ears, and you long for him to look back at you. The trance you guys enter when you look at each other is so cheesy, but it feels real. You wanted to stare at him forever.

“Be careful,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear.

He looks back at you and nods, but you notice he is squeezing his fists at his sides again.

He keeps trying to stop himself from something, and you are too impatient to figure out what it is, so you take his hands in yours and give them a gentle squeeze.

He looked down at your hands in his. You didn’t know it, but Mando was soaking in the fact that you were showing him more kindness in your touch than he had experienced in decades. Mando struggled, he managed to meet your eyes again.

“You too,” he says, rubbing your knuckles, and you smile at him.

He lets go of your hands gently, and you pray to whatever God was out there that he would not leave them permanently empty.

~~*~~

After Mando gave you your assignment, you and Kuiil immediately got a move on back to the Razor Crest with the child in your arms.

You hold the child close to your chest as Kuiil drives the blurrg behind you, and you give the child a little squeeze. Your nerves are starting to get the better of you.

Before, you could have worked with a crew like this and never felt a thing. They were going in outnumbered, so what? You were in the safe position and you had the prize in your arms? What did you care?

But now, your very hope at being happy again was walking into an imperial guarded death trap, pretending to be taken prisoner.

You hated this plan. Mando and Cara were smart, so you decided not to question their decision, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still have your doubts.

The only thing keeping you sane was the cooling air hitting your face as you rode, and the little gurgles from the child in your arms.

This is all you could control at this moment. You could control his safety, and you were not going to fail.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @farfromjustordinary @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @440mxs-wife

[tomatograter]

New to the fandom, Could you explain June? 💯 Love and support her. But homestuck 2 doesn't have her and I'm just confused?

June Egbert precedes the concept of homestuck^2! I’ve seen a lot of people be confused about this because they weren’t active on the fandom at the time the epilogues dropped, when reading her as a trans woman got a lot of discussion going and eventually lead to multiple confirmations.

So here’s an attempt at contextualization:

Throughout Homestuck, a few key ideas about Egbert’s identity and motivation to push forward with her hero’s journey are dropped like breadcrumbs. She’s meant to play the default straight-man protagonist. Her defining traits are ridiculously… generic, when compared to how all the other kids present themselves and stick to exaggerated bits. She’s a perfectly normal, regular suburban kid with normal, suburban issues. 

She may not leave her room a whole lot. She may not have a lot of real life friends in the neighborhood. She holds a comical irritation for the concept of birthdays, even though her father is extremely supportive, and is delighted to see his son grow up nice and healthy. There’s no reason for her to be so irrationally upset at cakes and gifts, and that’s what makes the setup funny! June doesn’t even know why she’s annoyed with half of the things that annoy her, what the heck.

But under all that playing around there is a sense that her life is so normal, so blasé, so unexciting and limiting and hollow and fake that she’d give anything to not be herself, even if only for ten minutes. This goes way, way back. It’s why June needs SBURB to happen.

June lives as though her life hasn’t started yet. She’s stuck in the Tutorial stage. I would argue while most kids (and trolls) play SBURB to escape a shitty environment or the end of the world as they know it, June plays for a simpler reason: She needs to escape herself, and she needs to do it before it is too late. 

Being thirteen means crossing the homeric abyss between being a child with no care for the world sporting a generic hand-me-down identity and becoming a Teen (capital T) who needs to figure out how to cope with atrocious bodily changes while building the adult they’re meant to be AND deciding what the fuck they want out of life, and how they’re going to work to get it, forever and ever.

When you’re trans, and you don’t yet know you’re trans (or that this is a thing you’re even ALLOWED to be) the above feels a lot like serving a life sentence for an intangible crime.

You know what you’re supposed to do. You’ve seen it on tv, you’ve heard it from your dad, you know what are the normal trials and tribulations. You know you'll grow a few pimples and stubble and you'll need to learn how to shave, obviously, because it's basically a tradition in your family, and no one is really happy to be a teen. You know at some point you'll find a nice girl and you'll grow a hat out of your skull and then you will have to pay taxes and maybe you will have a baby daughter? You'd like it to be a daughter for no particular reason. And when you get a daughter you're going to name her Casey and she's going to be adorable and this is something you've dedicated a lot of thought to. Maybe its because you thought Nic Cage looked really cool with those long flowing locks in con air, the movie who featured a trans woman as a minor character for a few minutes (and she gets quite a bit of compliments, regardless of how the movie has aged), and he had a really exciting life, but goddamn did he love his daughter. There is no purer love than the bond between a father and his daughter. 

This absolutely has nothing to do with your father and you, or how you hold no excitement for becoming an adult man, or how your father's excitement for you becoming an adult man in your stead feels a little stifling.

But i digress.

June spends her time on SBURB mostly hassling karkat, and readily following the instructions of zany, dangerous, COOL girls that seem to know what they're doing. June lets Terezi lead her to certain death without blinking. June lets Vriska dress her up as soon as opportunity presents itself. June thinks its really funny to trick this troll Who Types Really Oddly into believing she's Rose, and also into believing that she's a very silly girl. You may even say Homestuck employs a few of jokes pertaining to how her name looks like EGG !

June has a ball playing this game until it starts to get shitty. She's never able to mend her relationship with her dad, as he's one of the first causalities. She has to spend a lot of time waiting around with jade on a ship until things get cool and exciting again, but she never stops growing during those three years. Its fine, though, because there's always more things to be done and more people to fight.

Until there aren't, and they make a new earth, and while everyone cheers and claps for the birth of a new planet June realizes all her excuses are over. Her friends begin to grow up. Rose gets married. Jade is living her best life. Dave has a not-boyfriend glued to his hip. Jane has a job. Jake is on TV for some reason. June doesn't want to leave home. June's birthday is around the corner again. Here come all the congratulations for becoming a strong lad for yet another year! Vriska is gone. Terezi is gone. SBURB is over. Wacky hijinks have been swapped for real-ass, boring-ass Regular life. We watch her unsuccessfully chase after the glory of days gone by when Rose presents her the possibility of going back into the game, when things were cool and mattered, or her flimsy decision to settle down with a nice girl she hasn’t really made an effort to know and become a father and be absolutely miserable for four decades as she asserts nothing is real, not anymore, and this is just how it is.

Depersonalization, depression and general apathy towards the world are all pronounced aspects of dysphoria that seem like unrelated incidents for someone who hasn't came out yet. June's trainwreck of a life post-game, specially her feeling of hollowness and chasing after anything that could fill it struck a chord with trans readers who left the epilogues to read HS again and discovered this has always sort of been here. June being a trans woman who doesn't have the proper vocabulary to express she is a trans woman makes a lot of earlier bits from the comic click into place, now in a broader context. We settled in the name "June" because it's what she imagines Vriska is calling her at some point, amid laughs, but even that was discussed for a lengthy period last year. What would she want to be called, what are possible tags for this, etc. But it was mostly for fun and games, because the prospect of the protagonist of a 10 year old beloved cult series being ACTUALLY confirmed as a trans woman just wasn't something that was done.

Until word got around to Andrew Hussie and he was reportedly so pleased with this interpretation of events he’d be making references to it, and some time later, a box of toblerones was left in a cave as a gift for fans to find. The first person to find a toblerone thought it would be funny to dedicate it to June, because now she was an ongoing reference that was fun to make. Instead of it ending there, Hussie logs on twitter for the first time in a long while to say 'Oh yeah, i'll make it happen' and that's when the whole thing exploded. I have a post detailing this made a year ago (with pictures!) so i won't keep you here.

In the year since, June has been vaguely alluded to in Pesterquest (in jade's end card, she's having her nails painted by rose.) Has been widely adopted by the community, those making their own fanventures and continuations, and the team behind Homestuck^2. In every way that matters, she's already thriving within the community that brought her to light a year ago. But her coming out in canon is something that will take time and a proper narrative arc to happen, one that is still being set up. We know it'll come eventually, the only question is “how”.

Not that the wind waits for anyone.

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 3/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  you’ve successfully escaped the ball room, but you run into someone you had been trying to avoid when you’re in the gardens Warnings: lil angst, mentions of gunshots and blood Word count:  2K A/N: hehe he is here !! finally lol enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling  @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn’t tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here 

You can faintly hear the music in the ball room. But the closer you get to the gardens, the more you have to concentrate to be able to hear the music. You can’t help but to smile to yourself. You made it out of the ball room. 

All you had to do was wait until the ball was over and you would be on your way back to Ketterdam. Your father would probably be furious at you. But it was about time he learned he couldn’t continue to control your life.

As you’re walking through the gardens, the many different flowers take your breath away. You didn’t have a ball room like the one you just left in Ketterdam. You also certainly didn’t have a garden like this. 

You walk the paths, amazed by the plants around you. You had never seen something like this before. If King Nikolai would have invited you to this garden instead of a ball, you might have seriously considered accepting his invitation.

Time passes as you admire the extraordinary flowers surrounding you. The palace has long since vanished from your eyesight, and the sun is almost gone. You can see some stars in the sky already. 

Even though you didn’t want to come here, even though you spent the entire journey getting here wishing for Ketterdam, you couldn’t deny you’d be upset if you had missed out on the beautiful gardens. 

You wonder if the ball has already ended, and want to make your way back to the palace, when you see a silhouette in the distance. Did someone else escape the ball to go to the gardens? Or worse; did someone follow you when you leapt from the balcony?

Though you’re in the gardens near a palace and not in the streets of Ketterdam, you’re still on edge by a stranger’s presence. You stop walking and listen closely to their movements, ready to strike should they attack you. 

You watch from a distance as they walk closer. Hands behind their back, slowly walking through the garden. You notice the way their shoulders slump a little. Tired of the dancing maybe? Or trying to deceive you?

When they walk closer, and the last bit of sunshine falls on their face, you see blonde hair and a pair of hazel eyes.

A look of surprise finds its way onto his face when he spots you. 

‘Well, hello.’ he says, sounding genuinely surprised to see another person in the gardens. ‘I believe we haven’t met?’ 

You shake your head. ‘No, we haven’t.’ you say.

He looks up and down your dress, sending goosebumps along your bare arms. You couldn’t deny he was indeed as handsome as described in the stories. 

‘I’d say you fled the ball.’ he says. ‘I’m Nikolai, I don’t think you were introduced before the ball started.’

You notice how he introduces himself as Nikolai, and not as the king. 

‘I didn’t flee.’ you say. ‘And no, I wasn’t introduced.’ 

‘Oh, that wasn’t a question.’ says Nikolai. ‘Merely a statement. I’d remember a dress and a face like that.’ 

Your lips slightly part in surprise. ‘Do you flirt with every woman you meet tonight?’ you ask.

‘Do you flee from every ball you attend?’ he says without missing a beat, making you chuckle.

‘This is the first ball I’ve ever been to.’ you admit. 

‘Apparently it’s not a very good one, given that you left before it even started.’ he says.

‘It’s not about wether or not it’s a good ball.’ you say. ‘I just didn’t want to be in Ravka.’

‘But you are here.’ he points out.

‘Because my father basically dragged me here.’ you say, crossing your arms. 

‘Your father, is he a Kerch merchant? There was one who didn’t introduce his daughter because she wasn’t there. So, that would mean you’re Y/F/N /Y/L/N, right?’ says Nikolai.

‘You’re good.’ you say.

‘I’m good at a number of things.’ he says with a wink. 

‘Clearly.’ you say. 

Nikolai smiles and holds out his arm to you. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ he says.

You look at him extending his arm to you, smile on his lips and a twinkling in his eyes. You were dying to know why he had left the ball as well, and you actually didn’t mind the company. It made you curious and eager to find out if the stories you had heard about him are true.

So you nod with a smile, and lay a hand on his arm.

‘I’ll take you to my favorite spot in the gardens.’ he says, steering the two of you onto one of the paths.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ you say.

‘Of course.’ says Nikolai.

‘Why did you leave the ball?’ you say.

Nikolai looks at you and smiles. ‘Because even though I’m an excellent dancer, I also need breaks.’ he says. ‘I needed some fresh air.’

‘Are you really good at dancing or are you trying to impress me?’ you say.

‘Take your pick.’ he says.

For someone who didn’t want to be here and who had no intention of meeting the king, you found yourself starting to like him. He’s easy to talk to, and seems genuinely interested in you. And he’s not offended to find you in the gardens instead of the ball room.

‘Was it your idea to throw this ball to pick a bride?’ you say as you walk past a plant with particularly large orange flowers.

Nikolai sighs softly. ‘No.’ he says. ‘It was a decision made by Zoya and Genya, two of my triumvirate.’ 

‘Because they wanted you to marry?’ you say.

‘Because they wanted me to form an alliance and because I couldn’t establish one through politics, they thought I should try getting one through marriage.’ he says. 

You look at him, trying to read his face. ‘But you don’t want that.’ you say.

Nikolai looks at you and raises an eyebrow. ‘I personally don’t want to marry someone I don’t know for the sake of an alliance. But it’s what’s best for Ravka. And I like to put Ravka’s needs first.’ he says.

‘Spoken like a true king.’ you say. 

‘Well, I try to be a good one.’ he says as the two of you sit down on a bench.

‘From the stories I heard, you are.’ you say.

‘Really?’ says Nikolai. ‘Fancy telling me one of them?’

You laugh and shake your head. ‘I’m sure you’ve already heard them.’ you say.

‘What would it take for you to tell me one of those stories?’ says Nikolai.

You shrug. ‘A ticket to Ketterdam?’ you say.

He frowns. ‘You really want to go back that badly?’ he says.

‘No offence, but yes. I’ve been wanting to go back ever since the ship sailed away. Don’t take it personal, but I never had any intention of going to Os Alta in the first place.’ you say.

‘I understand.’ he says.

You look at him, confused. ‘You do?’

‘What, you think people haven’t made decisions for me my entire life?’ he says. ‘I know what it’s like not being able to make your own choices. I do appreciate you actually coming, though. You’re the first person I've talked to tonight who doesn’t throw themselves at me before I can even say hello.’ 

You laugh at his words. ‘Sorry for not throwing myself at you. Though I’m sure you’re used to it by now.’ you say.

Nikolai laughs as well. ‘Don’t apologise, it’s refreshing.’ he says.  

The two of you are silent as you look at the plants that surround you. It’s rather peaceful, being away from the buzzing ball room and just sitting on a bench to have a conversation.

‘Why is this your favourite part or the gardens?’ you ask him after a while.

In response, Nikolai points to a bush of bright yellow flowers. ‘Those are my favourites.’ he says. ‘Native to Novyi Zem, but Grisha can make sure they can grow here as well. They bloom for very short periods of time, mostly it’s just one week during summer. That’s why the Zemeni call them Summer’s Week. They’ve always been my favourite flowers. I always visit this spot during each summer, to see them bloom.’ he explains.

‘They’re beautiful.’ you say. ‘Such a shame we don’t have gardens like this in Ketterdam. I would have loved to spend more time here.’

‘I’d invite you to stay, but that would mean I'd have to propose and you made it very clear you want to go back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai. 

He gets up and walks over to the bush with the yellow flowers. You watch as he carefully picks one and walks back to you. He smiles as he hands it to you.

‘You can have one.’ he says. ‘If it still looks good when you get to Ketterdam, you can dry it, keep it between the pages of a book or something.’ he says.

You smile as you take the flower from him. ‘Thank you.’ you say. 

Nikolai looks back in the direction of the palace, though you can’t see it from here. 

‘I should go back.’ he says. ‘They’re probably wondering where I am, and I’d rather not have Zoya organise a search party.’

‘She’d do that?’ you say.

‘You have no idea what she’s capable of.’ says Nikolai, offering you his arm once more. You accept it and rise to your feet. 

As you start to walk back to the palace, Nikolai looks at you and smiles when he catches your eye.

‘This has been nice.’ he says.

‘The gardens?’ you say.

‘I can visit the gardens any time I like. No, talking with you. You allow me to be Nikolai. Everyone in that ball room only thinks of me as a king. They only think of themselves as future queens.’ he says.

‘But they are potential queens.’ you say. Nikolai looks at you and you remember his words. ‘Right.’ you say. ‘For Ravka.’

You see the palace appear in the distance, and by the looks of it the ball is still in full swing. You sigh softly, not looking forward to reuniting with your father and having him yell at you.

‘Well, here we are.’ says Nikolai, stopping in front of the palace. He motions to your left. ‘The doors are that way.’ he says. ‘And even though there are no gardens over there, we do have a lake which is also very nice.’ he says while motioning to your right.

You let go of his arm and frown. ‘You don’t want me to return to the ball?’ you say.

Nikolai merely shrugs. ‘Why would I? You don’t want to go there, and I’m not your king so technically, you don’t have to do anything I say.’ he says.

‘You really are an extraordinary king.’ you say, making him smile. ‘I see why your people love you so much.’ 

‘Hearing anyone say that means a lot to me.’ says Nikolai. He moves to stand in front of you. ‘Are you sure I can’t convince you to come and have one dance with me?’ he says.

You smile. ‘I think I’ll check out the lake.’ you say.

‘Alright then.’ says Nikolai, walking away toward the doors. ‘But watch out for the sea monster, though.’ he adds.

Your eyes widen. ‘You have a sea monster in your lake?’ you say.

But you never found out the answer. Before Nikolai can say anything, you hear a sound you know all tho well. How could you not recognise it after living in Ketterdam for years? 

Gunshots. Two of them. 

You watch as Nikolai falls to the floor, blood soaking his shoulder and stomach.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[iam93percentstardust]

A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

[electronictimetravelmoose]

Being Thor and Loki’s younger sister (HCs) pt. 1

you were a total surprise baby

Frigga and Odin were fine with only having the two boys but things happen and here you were

your brothers loved you from the moment you were born and for the first few months the would always switch who would carry you around for the day

Frigga was hesitant at first but both Loki and Thor took extra care to make sure you were alright while showing you around that she allowed it and observed with a smile

being a few years younger than them has its perks but also its downsides

you were the angel that could never do wrong and was loved by everyone around you but every time you wanted to play and train with your brothers they told you you were to young for it

seeing you sad because of not being able to spend so much time with them Loki showed you the fun in reading and oh boy he was going to regret that soon

you basically devoured every book you could find and soon enough you found a book about Valkyries

and you wanted to become one, being an amazing warrior who fights and kills monsters besides other cool warriors sounded like a dream

talking with you parents went actually quite well, Odin was hesitant at first but Frigga always stood behind you and your decisions no matter how young you were so ultimately Odin caved in

telling Thor and Loki ended in absolute chaos

both wanted to protect you no matter what and seeing you becoming a warrior which could kill you in the future was something they didn’t want to see

after the fight that ensued you didn’t talk with them for over two weeks, focusing on your studies and now training as well, both Loki and Thor realized that they couldn’t change your decision and apologize

be ready for supportive brother now

Thor who was always a fan of valkyries become your number one cheerleader and fanboy who always hyped you up

Loki kept his support more subtle, helping you out when you needed it and comforting you when training didn’t go well

years passed and you all grew up but you never quite grew out of your old habits

starting prank wars with your brothers which were mostly won by Loki

sneaking around so they wouldn’t find out about the people you dated or to be more specific you were trying to date

you really thought that your two older brothers would approve of just anyone? hell no

they scared most of the people who showed interest in you off the moment they saw them look at you for a second to long

boys…

when the events of the first Thor movie happen and Loki falls off the bridge you were devastated and decided you couldn’t stay on Asgard anymore

you travelled from planet to planet and helped where you could

it took your mind off of things and helped you discover who you really wanted to be and what was worth fighting for

when you came back to Asgard to visit your family you found out that Loki was in prison for killing hundreds of humans and trying to take over Midgard

it was a shock, thinking your beloved brother was dead but finding out he was actually alive and become a monster in the process

it took you a while before you were able to go down and face him and seeing him locked up in his cell broke your heart

“Ahh my dear sister, finally came to visit your brother and tell him how badly disappointed in him you are?”

you felt a pang in your chest upon hearing the tone in his voice and what he said, he was never like that before and you felt a tear running down your cheek

you may have become a hardened warrior by now through your travels and many battles but you haven’t mastered your emotions yet, especially when it comes to your brother

“No, just here because I missed and thought he was dead for the past few years, you know…”

his features immediately softened when he saw your tears and he felt the same hit in the chest as you did

“I only have one question for you… Why?”

you saw when your father treated him differently than Thor and you, you listened to him rant about all this stuff for years, you were there when he found out that he was adopted and actually a frost giant and you comforted him through everything so why was it suddenly so hard for him to tell you the truth

“I had to do it, there was no other choice. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe back then I wouldn’t but now I do, you are not the only one who has changed, brother.”

but he couldn’t and later on he would fake his death once again

this time instead of leaving on your own you left with Thor and went back to Midgard where you met the Avengers who you would become part of very soon

throughout the next few years you fought alongside them and befriended them

your relationship with Thor grew stronger than before and you became inseparable, supporting each other and being there when things get rough

everything started to get normal...

until Loki happened again

honestly you should have seen it coming but rather than being sad you were angry

he deserved the punching he got from you

and what followed when Doctor Strange made him fall for 30 minutes straight

you liked the man immediately and quietly thanked him for making Loki suffer a bit more

seeing your siblings suffer without any harm being done to them is just something that siblings enjoy, and hey Thor laughed as well so it was fine

when you three met your older sister Hela tho it became very clear that you were in more trouble than you thought

to sum it up you end up on Sakaar first where you had to fight some of the guys who were trying to kidnap you for some money, while trying to find a place you stumbled upon a woman which you immediately recognized upon her tattoos as one of the valkyries

she tried to fight you but you showed her yours as well and explained who you are

she told you her real name and let you stay with her for a while until you find some place of your own but that didn’t quite turn out

you also met the Hulk again who recognized you and immediately hugged you, at least you weren’t so alone on this planet after all

a few weeks later Loki and after that Thor end up on the planet as well and things start to turn upside down once again

throughout the rest of the events leading up to the evacuation and destruction of Asgard it was a bit tense between the three of you but it turned out alright and you were on your way to finding a new place for your people

but happy things don’t always last, it seems

Thanos attacked, killing most people under them being Loki and Heimdal, and getting the infinity stone before leaving you and Thor in the exploding ship

after being found by the guardians you didn’t have much time to mourn them because you needed to stop Thanos under all costs so you left with Thor, Rocket and Groot to Nidavellir in hopes of being able to forge a weapon that could kill Thanos

and you did so, but Stormbreaker wasn’t the only weapon you forged that day in hopes of defeating Thanos with it

-------------------------------------------

Tagging: @satans-bae-and-queen, @hippogreif-joana

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Thirty One

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Warnings: Cursing and some angst my bad Summary: Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one.

“I’ve seen you pull some reckless shit, but launching yourself into the middle of an active and radioactive debris field with a ship on the verge of breakdown under you, that’s… That’s gotta be top five,” Eli commented as Pollard scanned me. I shot him a tired look. “I didn’t have any other options.” “I know,” He shook his head, “But...Damn, kid.” “I’m back, I’m one piece, so maybe save the lecture for some occasion where I wind up in a biobed.”

“Heart rate is still a little high,” Pollard commented, stepping around in front of me and shining a light in my eyes. I startled a bit at the sudden flash before I settled. 

“And when was the last time you slept?” She added, brow furrowing. “I feel like if you really wanted to know, you would’ve asked before I piloted.” Pollard gave me a stern look that probably should’ve made me wilt, but adrenaline was still coursing through my body. “How do you feel?” She asked, a little imperious. “Like I’ll be happy if I never get behind the controls of an attack fighter again.” That made her smile a bit, at least. She nodded. “I want to check on you again before you leave the ship, make sure that heart rate is back down where it’s supposed to be.” “Yes ma’am.” “And get some sleep. I am not above sedating you.” “...I believe that.” “You might wanna get that hypo ready now, doc—” “Can it, Durling,” I cut him off, reaching for my jacket. He gave me a disapproving look as I stood. Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one. If I lay in the dark, my mind would just run through what I had done, all of the ways that it could’ve gone wrong. I was sure that this experience was going to be no different; if anything, the possibilities for a different outcome were increased. “You heading for the gym?” Durling asked as we walked out of the medbay. It was a fair question, but as comfortable as my civvies were, I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sparring in them. “Nah, not this time. You got a report to file?” I asked. “Yeah— Hey,” Eli reached out, taking light hold of my shoulder, “I need to talk to you.” “Look, I will get some sleep—” “No, not about that,” He shook his head. He glanced around the hall, quiet as someone passed us before he turned back to me, “It’s about my assignment after this.” “...Okay,” I frowned. “They’re giving me the Pinnacle.” Confusion melted from my face and I grinned, socking him in the shoulder, unable to contain my excitement. “Eli! That’s amazing— Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh, congratulations!” I squealed, drawing him in for a hug. He chuckled, patting my shoulder before leaning away. “We had a job to do first,” He shook his head. “That’s why you weren’t putting the tag down yourself, huh?” I asked. “There’s something else.” “What else could there possibly be?” “I need a first officer.” “Oh. So who are your candidates?” Eli’s brows rose, and he tipped his head forward a bit. Realization washed over me slowly, and I found myself fighting the urge to shake my head and ask him what the hell he was thinking. “What?… Eli—” “Hear me out,” He pleaded softly, “You know my every move, you get how I operate, you don’t let me get away with shit, you know when to push and when to pull… And I swear I did not mean that the way it sounded.” “Bullshit.” “See?” He pointed out before tacking on, “Look, don’t answer me right now. I know it’s a big decision, just… Just think about it.” I gave him a small nod in concession, a murmur of promise that I would. But as I watched his retreating back, I already knew what my answer was. --

The canteen was basically deserted. I walked over to the replicators, leaning heavily against the wall beside it and scrubbing my hand over my face. “Black coffee, four shots of espresso— splash of caramel creamer.”

“Are you planning on having a heartbeat after that?” I did, but mine skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “The caramel is just to sweeten it a bit,” I justified, “Doesn’t taste the same as the Una Matrix, so I’ve gotta make do.” I glanced back to find him leaning against a table nearby. “Everything alright on the Bridge?” I asked, turning back to the replicator. “Fine,” He conceded, “And the shuttle bay?” “Uh…” I straightened, taking hold of the mug, “Well, Jett is cursing my name. Apparently Eli’s messed up a number of phaser cannons but having a damaged warp nacelle and a punctured cabin really takes the cake.” “Is that much coffee advisable after what you’ve just done? I’d think some rest would be in order.” “And Dr. Pollard would agree with you, but I can never sleep after tags,” I admitted. I cleared my throat, “So, how... “ It had been way too long to ask about how he was, hadn't it? We’d been on the same ship for hours now— “How’s um— Spock?” Christopher’s brows rose a little. “He’s...Taking leave.” I frowned. “That’s unlike him.” “Well, the war took its toll on the crew, such as it was.” I nodded a little, leaning back against the wall again, “I can understand that.” Christopher’s head tipped to the side, brow furrowing. “How so? I mean no disrespect, Commander, but you were very much in the thick of it.” “Yeah, but,” I lowered my eyes to my drink, “You all...Had to wait, I guess. You got your news about people that you were concerned about in a delayed fashion, and from a distance— all secondhand, second rate. Maybe some of the crew held themselves back from reaching out to people, not sure how they’d take it, not wanting to distract them... That time, that distance, it can wear someone down.” It was a moment before I heard Chris take in a deep breath. “We should talk,” he said softly. “We are talking,” I pointed out. When I glanced up to look at him, I found an unimpressed little frown affixed to his lips. I rolled my eyes a little, pushing away from the wall and nodding for him to follow me: “C’mon.” I was relieved to hear his footfalls behind mine without a moment’s hesitation. “I know where the quiet spots are and I’m willing to bet you haven’t found them yet.” “By Ensign Tilly’s account, you were only on this ship for a couple of days,” Pike commented. “Yes,” I nodded, “And in that time, she told me where all the cool kids hang out. From there, I used those tips, the ship’s directory, and the process of elimination to find a few quiet spots.” I peered into a small suite and found it empty. The outer wall was wrapped with a window. There was a desk with a reading lamp on one end of the room and a loveseat and side table on the other end. “This alright?” I asked, nodding inside. Pike peered around before stepping in fully. I took that as a yes and followed him in, the door sliding shut behind us.  “What’d you come in here for?” He asked, looking around. “Studying, once. I had to brush up on my Klingon while I was aboard,” I told him, sitting down on the loveseat. I set my coffee aside for a moment, shrugging my jacket off and draping it over the arm of the seat before picking my cup up again. I watched Christopher drift around the room, taking it in, his fingers trailing the wood of the desk. I leaned back against the cushions, taking a long pull from the coffee and wincing from the taste. “Too much coffee?” “Just not as good as the Una Matrix,” I justified. I glanced up at him to find him leaning back against the desk, arms folded across his chest. For a moment the both of us just… looked. It reminded me of the moments in his Ready Room before we beamed down to Sandblossom— but we were so different now. “So who told you?” I asked. “Una.” “How’d that go?” Christopher averted his eyes, tipping his head forward a bit, “Well, she… Sat me down, laid out Spock’s timeline, let me know that you were on the Pinnacle.” “Can I ask when that was?” “You’d been aboard for about a month.” That couldn’t have been very long after Una had called me, then. I could only imagine her demeanor when she’d told him. I nodded a bit. “I don’t… I do not know how much Admiral Cornwell told you, but she—” “Kat mentioned before she left that she had you give your word not to contact the Enterprise.”  “Okay.” “Though I am a little surprised you kept to it,” Christopher admitted. I considered that for a moment, fingers tapping along the side of my mug. “Sometimes I couldn’t believe it either. I hated it. But...Cornwell told me that you were determined to come back to Somonia for me, when you heard about the negotiations—” I watched as Chris pushed himself away from the desk, drifting over to look out of the window. I saw the tight pull of his shoulders, the wringing of his hands where he had them clasped behind his back. “Besides that,” I added quietly, “I was sure that being so removed from the war was weighing on you all in some estimation. And after Una contacted me…” I shook my head, “I'm not sure how I would've handled speaking with anyone else from the Enterprise.” Christopher frowned, and I could see the question forming as he turned to look at me. I raised a hand to halt it: “We’re fine. We spoke when the ship was docked on Earth recently.” “How long were you two out of contact?” “A while,” I answered flatly. Christopher shook his head a little bit. I slouched down against the cushions. “Why didn’t—...” I started before I stopped myself, cringing. “What would you have wanted me to say?” He asked knowingly.  “Anything, Christopher! I didn’t even know that you knew.” I set my coffee aside and rested my elbows against my knees, running my hands over my face. “I didn’t think you would want to hear from us after we left you there.” He said it so softly, with such abject confidence; it nearly split me in two. I lifted my head, brow drawn, disbelieving of what I’d heard, only to find that Christopher had turned back to the window, chin tipped toward his chest. “...After you—… No,” I sighed, pushing myself off of the loveseat, “No, you didn’t.” “We should’ve turned around,” The assertion followed fast, his voice tight, “We would’ve found you— We would’ve been in range for the war, none of this would’ve happened.” I stopped a couple of steps from him. There was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching out to touch him, to draw him in, but I wasn’t sure anymore. “I saw the pictures that you got from Starbase 329,” I said softly, “It was a crater, Christopher, there was no way you could’ve known. And Choholl and I were so far underground for stretches at a time, you may not have been able to find us, even if you had turned around.” He turned his head toward me a little, but did not meet my eye. “I considered reaching out,” He admitted softly, “But I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ seemed...inappropriate, and… And I was worried.” “About what?” “You. What you said, about not wanting to distract someone, keeping yourself at a distance…” He trailed off, nodding, “Does take its toll.” I watched him for a moment, considering this. Christopher had thought about me. I supposed that that was some consolation, at least; I hadn’t been alone in my hours spent curious and lonely. “So,” I said lightly, turning to face the window as he had, “What happens after this mission?” “Back to the Enterprise, ideally,” Christopher answered; his voice was firmer now, a little more self-sure now that I'd turned to a topic he was likely more comfortable with. I felt him turn to look at me as he asked, “Do you...Know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. Command did mention something about reinstating Larilia to the Federation, now that Choholl has everything under control. They’re going to need a new attaché, they asked if I’d be interested.” I felt him tense beside me, “And what did you say?” “That I’d retire first.” He huffed a soft laugh, and I smiled a little. My mind drifted to the offer given to me earlier, and I shook my head a little bit. “What is it?” He asked. “Nothing.” “Are you sure?” I hesitated, “Eli is being given the Pinnacle. He needs a first officer and he… He offered me the position.” I turned to look up at Christopher, and I saw the split second of surprise before he schooled his face into a small smile. “What are you thinking?” He asked. I shook my head, turning away again. “I’m going to tell him ‘no’. Just haven’t worked out how yet.” “Why are you turning him down?” “Well, he needs someone— You know, more like Una. I am not like Una.” “... Well, you did take Onafuwa’s one-day intensive.” It took me a moment, and I opened my mouth to respond, but I could not help the laugh that bubbled up. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet the sound, but Christopher laughed, too. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like it used to— light, and warm. I looked at him, and found that grin that I’d missed; the crinkling around his eyes and the dimples. And as we quieted, as we found one another just looking again, I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I hurried to look away again, turning back to where I’d set my coffee and walking back to it. I settled down onto the loveseat, taking a long pull from the mug and using it to cover a small sniffle. I expected Christopher to stay where he was, but he followed, sitting down beside me. He was close— but then, the loveseat was small, he had no choice but to be close. “You really ought to rest,” He said quietly. “I can’t,” I shook my head, “After one of those—” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, “My head just doesn’t settle right.” “Is it always like this?” I nodded a bit. I felt Christopher shift beside me a little before I heard him mutter, “C’mere.” I glanced over and did a double-take, my heart leaping into my throat when I found him leaned back, his arm thrown over the back of the loveseat. “What?” “Come here,” He urged more softly, nodding me closer. I narrowed my eyes at him before I set the coffee down, shifting a little closer. I was nearly pressed fully against his side this way, from knee to chest.  “Put your head down,” He urged, nodding to his shoulder. “Chris—” “Just try it.” I huffed, irritated but did as he said. His arm curled around my shoulders. “Close your eyes.” “If you really think is is going to work—” “So stubborn,” He mumbled, resting his chin atop my head and my eyes fluttered shut at the comforting weight, “Stubborn as stone.” If Christopher thought that this was going to calm me down, he was severely mistaken; my heart was pounding out of my chest, my stomach was twisting itself into knots. I hadn’t felt worked up like this since after Koutov. Christopher’s fingers trailed over my shoulder softly, and I found myself reaching out and setting my hand on his jacket. “...The blue’s...Different,” I commented. “Wanna command the ship, you’ve gotta wear the uniform,” He pinched the sleeve of my t-shirt as he said so. I rolled my eyes a little. “Good thing I don’t wanna command, then,” I muttered. Christopher’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Gotta say… it is a good thing you’re turning Durling down, if only for the fact that you seem to fight so much,” He said. “It’s all in good fun… Mostly in good fun.” “The two of you seem close.” I glanced up at Christopher. “We’re friends,” I nodded. “Close your eyes,” He muttered, poking my shoulder when he saw me looking at him. I huffed, doing as he said. My fingers absently skated over a section of the gold braiding covering the zipper on the jacket, unable to keep still. “That wasn’t an accusation, by the way,” He added. “Sounded like one.” “Wasn’t.” “Mm.” I wasn’t sure what it was— the hum of the ship around us, or the steady rise and fall of his chest under my hand, or just the feeling of being by Christopher again, but I felt myself relaxing, eyelids and limbs growing heavy. “We should— I should finish my coffee,” I mumbled after a while. “Why’s that?” Christopher murmured. “‘M gonna fall asleep.” “Good.” I smiled a little, “‘M gonna fall asleep on you.” “You’re already falling asleep on me.” “So...Should move.” “You comfortable?” “Mmmmmhm.” “Okay.” That okay was all I needed. I cozied deeper into Christopher’s side, unabashedly cuddling up against him, and I felt his hand smooth soothingly over my arm. In my haze and weariness, the tears that I’d managed to push down before welled up. Now, though, I felt too tired to hide them again. A few leaked from my eyes, and I pressed my face into his shoulder. “I missed you so much,” I admitted quietly, hand fisting in his jacket. I felt his grip tighten on me, his other hand covering mine, thumb skating over my knuckles. “I know,” Christopher whispered; I could feel his lips quivering as they brushed my temple, “I missed you, too.” Tag list: @angels-pie​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​  ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @hotchswifey​

[starlightrows]

Something of Your Own

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 1.8k

Tags: Hurt Comfort, angst, happy ending 

Summary:  Din takes you in after your village is destroyed

AN: Originally posted on AO3 in November 2020 

Sitting against the wall in the hull of the ship, you rolled the small silver ball over towards the kid. He catches it and gets distracted looking at his tiny reflection again. He chirped happily, probably overjoyed to have a playmate on this lonely ship, and tries to roll it back.

You had only been traveling with the Mandalorian and his foundling son for a few months. So far it wasn’t so bad. You had been taking care of children almost your whole life, and this child was surprisingly easy to care for. Entertain him for most of the day, feed him often, hold him while he falls asleep, and he’s a perfect angel. Your new traveling companion had made him sound like a little terror. You supposed that was because he couldn’t afford to give all of his attention to him. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it. Well, that and having nowhere else to go.

The Mandalorian had come to your village asking if anyone had heard of a people called The Jedi. No one in the village had. You had never seen a Mandalorian before either. He had asked if there were other villages nearby he could ask. You offered him a place to stay for the night, and set out for the neighboring villages in the morning. He was reluctant, but the child seemed so attached to you. Continually trying to climb your skits and touch your face. So he agreed.

He regretted that decision. The nights on your planet were long, and dark. And his that darkness a massive ship flew overhead, landing on the outskirts of the village. Armored soldiers poured out of ship, and began breaking into homes. Demanding to know where to find the Mandalorian and his charge.

The Mandalorian awoke to screams and sound of blaster fire coming from somewhere else in the village. His helmet went on and he leaped from the bed, plucking the sleeping child from the pram, and yanking open the door to the bedroom. Only to find you at the door about to knock.

“Help us!” You shouted. He thrust the child into your arms, and went back to put on the few pieces of armor he had removed to sleep.

Coming back out of the room, he grabbed your shoulders roughly “Take the child back to my ship, lock yourself in there and do not let anyone in” You were frozen in terror, clutching the baby to your chest. “Go!” He shouted

So you did. Out the back door, and behind the row of homes and businesses you had lived in your whole life. Blindly you ran for the ship. The sound of your friends and neighbors screams pounded in your head, how the baby was sleeping through this you could not fathom.

Finally reaching the ship you climbed in, and sealed the door. You sunk to the floor, exactly where you sat now, and you waited. Tears streaming down your face. You had no idea how long you sat there, if you fell asleep at any point. The ship’s hull was pitch black and soundless, save for the soft breathing of the baby and your muffled crying.

The sound of the being opened from the outside scared you. Jumping to your feet, and retreating further into the darkness hoping you wouldn’t run into anything. Dull orange light streamed into the hull, and you heard your name being called out. It was the Mandalorian.

You emerged from the darkness, tired puffy eyes looking at him expectantly. Suddenly you were more terrified than you had been the entire night. Your village. Your home. Your whole life. What had happened? What was left?

You advanced towards him. But he stopped you with a gentle hand. “I’m sorry” that was the only thing he could say. An apology. Fresh tears sprang to your eyes. You pressed the child into his arms, and ran passed him.

You didn’t know what you would find when you got there. All you knew was you had to see it. You didn’t stop running until you saw the smoke rising from the ashes... your entire life had been reduced to rubble. You sobbed, like never before.

Eventually the Mandalorian had followed you back into the ruins of your village. He asked if there was somewhere you wanted to go, if you had friends or family. This was it. This was your whole life. You had nowhere to go. He offered to take you with him.

“Come with us. You can leave whenever you’d like. And I can pay you for your help with the kid,”

It was the only option you had, so here you were. Rocketing through the stars, on your way to an uncertain future, with a baby and a man who’s name you didn’t know and face you will never see.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of Mando’s footsteps descending the ladder from the cockpit. The baby toddled over to the landing, having lost all interest in the silver ball rolling back towards you. Mando bent down and picked up the child, he approached you as you stood up.

“We’ll be landing soon,” he told you “There’s someone I need to talk to on this planet. And they have a market where we can resupply”

You nod quietly. After these last few months, you were still mourning the loss of your village. Going into towns and markets on other planets was exciting but it made you long for home. You had never left your home world, visiting other planets exposed you to things you never would have imagined in your wildest dreams.

Planets covered in dense forests, others with endless expanses of water, not to long ago you had been to a planet that had man made structures covering every surface area... You had come from a farming planet, that sold crops and livestock to intergalactic traders. You knew there were other worlds in the universe, other species, but it was so much more vast than you could have imagined.

The planet you were visiting today was beautiful. Enormous mountains jutted from the ground, fields of tall grass and wildflowers, and clear springs. The village was busy, full of travelers stopping for more fuel, supplies, a place to stay for the night, or just somewhere to stretch their legs and breathe fresh air.

Mando watched as you step off of the ship, holding his son.

“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” You asked the child softly. He replied in his garbled little chirps.

Mando felt his chest tighten. The guilt of being the reason you had nowhere to go weighed heavily on him. But bringing you to beautiful places like this, that you may have otherwise never experienced made him feel a little bit better. He didn’t want to admit he was taking you to some of the more interesting places he had visited in his travels, and tried to find nice places for you to stay and take care of the baby when he had to catch a bounty.

“Ready?” He asked. You smiled and nodded, following him towards the town.

Every time they stopped a new planet, Mando knew there was a chance you would not continue with him. But if truth be told, he didn’t want that to happen. He had grown fond of you these last few months. Having a second set of hands around to do things on the ship and someone to make sure the kid was always looked after, were more than welcome. But it was more than that, it was you. You were kind, and gentle. Respectful of his culture, and eager to learn and see everything. He didn’t want you to find a new place to settle. But that wasn’t his choice to make.

He thought about this as you walked together through the market. You held the child against your chest, letting him look out at all of the people and shops. You pointed out various things to him, and spoke with such care.

He left you with some credits, and instructions on where to meet back up with him when you were done shopping and he was finished with his meeting. He had been trying to give you more credits than you needed recently. A couple weeks back, he had snapped at you in a hurry to leave the planet he had left you and kid on for a few days...

“Get your things, we’re leaving”

You stood up, with the child in your arms and walked out of the small inn. He didn’t miss your words under your breath as you passed him.

“I don’t have any things,”

You were right, all you had was the clothes on your back. And the credits he gave you after returning from cashing in on bounties. It was his fault, and he knew it.

You walked around the market, trying to make sure you had enough of a variety of foods to take with you onto the ship. You picked up some strips of bandage cloth, and bacta pads as well. Your companion made more use of those than you would like to admit.

You passed by a clothing stall, and stopped short. Looking down at the kid in his tan robes. It wouldn’t hurt to get him a second set, he did get dirty a lot when you stayed on a planet for a few days. You stepped into the stall, and began looking to find children’s clothing.

The fabric the clothing is made of on this planet is so vastly different from the clothes your own people wore. You ran your fingers over a pair of dark brown trousers.

“What do you think little friend?” You asked the child “maybe we both need something new”

Mando approached the massive shade tree, seeing you and the baby leaning against the trunk and sharing a piece of fruit. He saw that you had several packages of supplies for the ship sitting next to you, and a leather pack. He also noticed the child wore new, grey robes. And you. You wore new well fitting trousers, tunic, boots and coat. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive you looked. The child scampered towards him, and raised his little arms. He shouldered the child, and offered you a hand to stand up.

“You look nice,” he said, somewhat dumbly.

“Thank you,” you replied, taking his hand. You gathered the packages and supplies. “I figured I would need some better clothes if I’m gonna keep up with the little womp rat” You scritched behind the child’s floppy ears. The baby cooed at your touch.

Mando felt comforted walking back to the ship. If you were willing to spend money on things to better help you take care of the kid, maybe you would stay longer.

Din Djarin Tag List: @spideysimpossiblegirl

[ohnopoe]

Once Upon A Time | Frankie Morales

Ship: Frankie Morales x Reader Prompt: “What happened to their happily ever after?” “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.” Word Count: 3.6k+ Tagging: @remmysbounty​ (requester) Author’s Note: If anyone... wanted more on this story... lmk because I kinda got invested whilst writing this ngl

This is part of my follower celebration! Click here for info!

It was a story he knew better than any other. A story ingrained in his mind, with every detail as clear as day. The words might change, but the world never did, a story of friendship, a story of love, a story that he would turn into something magical and foreign, and do his best to hide the reality of.

It was a story that Sophia knew just as well, but that never stopped her from asking for it. Night after night, whenever Frankie would go to put his little girl to sleep, she would ask for the same bedtime story, eyes wide, pout in place, and Frankie, well, he could never say no to his daughter.

The story was a part of the bedtime routine at this point, and it hurt just as much as it brought a smile to both their faces.

Sometimes he would tell of adventures, times when the two protagonists would go off to distant lands, fighting for their country and their families. Sometimes the tales would be simpler, funny instances that seemed just a little too familiar to be made up. And sometimes, if she tried hard enough, Sophia could almost believe she remembered being there for some of them.

It always revolved around the same two characters Frankie had long since given up on renaming them with every story, sticking to the pseudonyms he had given them so long ago; even if the names didn’t truly fit. But sometimes, sometimes they were joined by others, three or four friends who would always seem to linger in the distance, never taking centre stage, but never truly leaving either.

There was a near endless number of adventures for Frankie to tell, but they always came back to the same story at the end, a story of a friendship deeper than any other, a story of love.

At five years old, Sophia had grown to love story time more than Frankie ever could have expected. At one time, convincing her it was bedtime had been a task and a trial, and even his friends had been at a loss for what to do. But then you had floated in, hiding your own nerves as you offered your god-daughter a warm smile, wrapping her in your arms as you carried her to bed.

The story had been different that night. You hadn’t gone for one of the ridiculous number of books Frankie had bought in an effort to appeal to his daughter’s brimming imagination, no, you had gone into your memory and stolen stories from reality.

It was the first time in a long time that he saw Sophia relax and surrender to bedtime. Curiosity and wide eyes kept her focused on you and you alone as you weaved memories into something magical, and far more child friendly than the reality of them had ever been.

Frankie never mentioned the way his heart warmed at the sight of you sitting there on the edge of Sophia’s bed, never dared to bring up the way he adored watching the two of you interact, or how he wished it were a permanent part of his life. No, he simply stood there with a smile plastered on his lips as he watched from the doorway until his little girl was sound asleep and you gently ushered your way back to the living room to return to the group of friends that you had arrived with.

Over a year later, and he continued on what you had started with a bittersweet smile. He wasn’t as good with words, and he’d stumble as he tried to turn real life threats into mystical parallels, but he’d never fail to put on voices that made Sophia laugh, and he never missed a night time story, no matter what was going on.

Tonight’s story was a soft one. There were no tales of your joint time in the special forces weaved into tales of Knights serving a magical kingdom, no heroics or daring rescues. No, tonight it had been simpler, the memory of the two of you relaxing together as you simply drove for as long as you could, camping out in your car when you got too tired to go on, and just enjoying a weekend off with your best friend.

He could remember that evening clearer than what he had eaten for lunch only hours ago. You had been exhausted when he finally decided to pull over for the night. Curled up in the passenger seat, with a sleepy smile playing on your lips, it was the most at ease he had ever seen you in all your years of friendship. The stars had shone brightly, the open air making them gleam all the more as you turned to face him in the car that had felt far too small all damn day.

“This is nice,” the words were mumbled as they slipped past your lips, your exhaustion pulling you closer towards sleep with each passing second. And maybe it was the fact you were already falling into sleep, curled up awkwardly as you were, but the next words you spoke gave him the slightest flickering of hope.

“I’m glad the other’s were busy,” you admitted, each word slurring further into the next. “I’m glad it’s just us.”

Years had passed and still those words were ingrained in his memory. Of course, in tonight’s story it hadn’t been a car but a carriage, the two knights, because you were far stronger than any princess, travelling together through magical realms that were just as beautiful as that night sky had been. But even in his retelling some things remained the same, and your words… well, he could never replace those.

Frankie was so used to seeing the angelic features of his daughter fast asleep at the end of each story, that it stunned him to look down, pulling himself from the memory and the hope he had once had that you might one day be something more than friends, to see those same curious eyes staring back at him.

“You should be asleep,” he offered with a chuckle. After all, he could never truly be mad at his little girl, not when she was staring at him with questions dancing in her gaze. It wasn’t uncommon that she would ask questions about his stories, little things, things that seemed irrelevant to him but meant the world to her, but usually they came earlier in the night, long before the stories would reach their climax. “Go on then, what do you want to know?”

Shuffling her way up her bed until she was sitting upright, that same stubborn determination of her father reflected back at him, she pulled her toy frog, aptly named ‘Leaf’ into her hold as she stared back at him determinedly. He could practically hear her mind whirling, trying to find the words to ask whatever was distracting her from sleep tonight.

With a frown, and a tilt of her head that reminded him eerily of Santiago, she spoke carefully, almost as if she was scared of the answer. “What happened to their happily ever after?”

Frankie paused at the question, visibly shocked. He had expected another of her eccentric ponderings, questions of hair colour or clothing or something that gave the story depth but no real significance. He had never even considered the end.

The truth was, the ending hadn’t been anything remarkable at all. In fact, the mediocrity of it almost broke his heart. Time had pulled at you both, a short lived relationship for him with a woman who had never really gelled with his daughter, a new job that took you a few states over… And then somehow it had been months, hell, it had almost been a year now, and he hadn’t even spoken to you through text.

But maybe that was a good thing, maybe this was the chance you had been bereft all these years. For so long you had been there for him, for the whole damn team. Your own life lingered in the shadows, pushed aside so you could help him adjust to suddenly having a child, to being a single parent all at once, so you could help Will’s confidence in public speaking, so you could be there to support Benny at every fight.

Now you were further away, but you had a job you had dreamt of, you didn’t spend every waking moment on a group of men who never could quite figure out how to function without you. Didn’t you deserve a chance at something real? Something that was purely your own?

Sure, it wasn’t the life he had dreamt of, you weren’t by his side, but you must be happy, and that, hell, that meant so much more to him.

With that same bittersweet smile that dragged at the corners of his lips every time he recounted one of your adventures together, Frankie pulled at Sophia’s blankets, trying and quickly failing at getting her settled again. But she was determined, wiggling away from her father’s attempts as she stared resolutely back at him.

A heavy sigh, and he glanced away, terrified of how she might react at learning the horrible truth of the world.

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just ‘once upon a time’,” he admitted. And, damn it, when had he started to think of this as a love story? When had he given in to the fact that he had fallen so damn hard for his best friend, even now, so long after you had left.

“Maybe that’s because it’s not the end,” Sophia pondered, although there was a resolve behind each word, as though she was answering a question whilst asking it.

The soft plush fabric of Leaf was pushed against Frankie’s hand, a silent attempt at comfort from the little girl who somehow always seemed to know too much. “You should call Y/N,” she spoke softly, but decisively; the impact of her words louder than anything she could have shouted.

Frankie’s head jolted up, any walls that had once been in place shattering as he heard your name fall from his daughter’s lips. He had been so careful, always making sure to fictionalise the tales, even your name, to make it something far from reality. How had she figured it out? And when?

Perhaps it was merely a coincidence, his little girl recognising a similarity between what she had once seen between the two of you and the characters he spoke of each night. Perhaps she hadn’t truly figured it out. Perhaps, and even he could admit it was beyond hoping, perhaps she just missed you too, and was thinking of you and the stories you once offered when you’d come to visit.

But, while there was a sad longing in his little girl’s eyes that burned away at him, it was not the strongest of emotions he saw there. This wasn’t just his little girl missing a friend, she was too focused, too set in her decisions. She had to have figured things out, and it had Frankie gulping nervously.

There was no risk of her telling you, not when you hadn’t spoken in months, and if she were to tell Pope or the Miller brothers? Well, it’d hardly be news to them. But still, something about her just knowing how he felt about you made things so much more real.

For so long you had been an unattainable dream, a picture of love that he would never dare reach for knowing Sophia had to be his number one priority. But now you were something far more terrifying, you were real.

Of course, he had no misconceptions that you’d ever actually go out with him, especially now that you had moved away. No, you’d laugh at the suggestion, thinking it was a joke the boys had put him up to, surely. But knowing Sophia wanted this rather than fought against it… somehow there was something damning about that thought.

Pulled from his thoughts as Sophia took back her precious Leaf and began snuggling back into the warmth of her blankets, he offered a smile that was anything but convincing as he struggled to find the words he needed.

But she beat him to it, holding out her little finger with the same determination she had held all damn night. “Pinky promise me you’ll call her,” she spoke, still focused even as her voice became muffled behind the toy she hugged close. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a suggestion, it was a demand.

At any other time Frankie might have laughed at the way the words were almost barked, he might have even scruffed up her hair and teased her, his little princess demanding she get her way. But he was still far too lost in his own mind to even comprehend the ridiculous tone he was met with.

Perhaps it was time to give you a call. It didn’t have to be an admission of an undying love that had settled within him years ago, and it certainly didn’t have to mention the fact that he told stories of you every night to the little girl who had wrapped him so thoroughly around her little finger that he had given into her demands of calling you without so much as a moment’s discussion. But it would be nice to hear your voice, to know you were ok. Even if it broke his heart to hear how happy you were in your new life, even if he found out you had everything you had put aside in the past, it would be worth it just to hear your voice again.

With a heavy sigh, he leant forward, entwining his pinky with the little finger of his daughter. “I pinky promise.”

Sophia nodded in response, like a general sending her troops into battle, even as her shoulders began to droop against her pillows. It seemed that now, satisfied with the fact she got what she was after, sleep was finally starting to creep its way over her.

“Good.” The word was softer than her demands, although she would never admit it as she snuggled further into bed, her eyelids beginning to droop as her other hand came to tighten her hold against Leaf. “You should do it tonight,” the words were almost mumbled now, eyes slipping shut as she spoke. “Tell her I miss her.”

Frankie sat there far longer than he usually did, just watching his little angel as she drifted peacefully into sleep. She looked so pure and sweet when she was asleep, no hint of the conniving way she could control her father in sight.

She was growing up too fast. He used to think that parents said it too often, overused the term to a point it had become a cliche. But watching her now, the way she had been able to put pieces together when he had worked so hard to keep them a secret, the way she had made him promise to call you, not that he ever needed much convincing… It was hard to reconcile that this was the very same little girl who still thought mud pies were fantastic fun, the same girl who had curled into him in fear when Santiago had bought crackers for the fourth of July and unintentionally terrified her only months prior.

He was procrastinating, even he knew that. But somehow the idea of leaving the terrifyingly pink and green room, (never trust a five year old for matching colour combinations, that was a lesson well learnt), made his promise feel all the more real.

The night was pitch black now, no hints of dusk lingering in the sky. Hours had passed as he simply sat there, lost to his thoughts of you and the terrifying possibilities of what calling you might entail.

The perfect job, a nice apartment, your life was finally what you deserved, and he was anything but thrilled to hear about it. He knew it’d break his heart to hear just how happy you were away from him. He knew because each time you had spoken after you first moved had hurt so damn much that, in a truly cowardly manner, he had let more and more time slip between the phone calls until they had ceased all together, all out of the fear of the pain he was bound to feel.

It would only get worse, he reckoned. Soon enough you’d find love, you’d start a family, have a picture perfect life, and he’d be nothing but a piece of your past. He could cope with that, so long as you were happy, that’s what he had always told himself. But when you spoke of how great your new job was, of how nice your community was, that green monster ate away at him with a ferocity he had never expected to feel.

He had to just get it over with, stop thinking about it and just call. If he didn’t, he’d be lost to his thoughts all damn night, and that was never a good idea.

He was pulling up your contact before he even left the softly lit bedroom, thumb hovering over the call button as he shut the door ever so carefully.

He could do this. It was just a call, it didn’t even have to be long.

What surprised him most as he finally pressed the green button was the excitement he felt at the thought of talking to you again. Sure, he was terrified, but the thought of hearing your voice… it still felt far more like coming home than it ought to have.

The shrill ring of the tone felt horribly loud, echoing through the silence of the small house almost tauntingly. But Frankie persisted. He could do this… most likely…

With each ring, a hole seemed to grow within Frankie’s chest. You must have been busy, probably out with new friends, maybe even a date, enjoying your new life, the life you deserved. He almost hung up, considered it with more conviction with each echoing ring, but he couldn’t tell Sophia a lie, and he couldn’t just give up now. Maybe it would ring out, maybe you had even changed your number. One way or another, he’d see it through, if only so he would be able to meet his daughter’s gaze in the morning.

And then the sound cut off suddenly, and it was replaced by something that stole his breath away.

“Frankie?” you sounded almost hopeful, questioning if it really was him, rather than why on earth he was calling.

He would never tire of hearing the way you said his name. It didn’t matter if it was in teasing or happiness, hell, he’d even take the way you groaned out an irritated ‘Francisco’ when he’d embarrass you with stupid jokes. There was just something about the way his name came from your lips that made it sound like so much more than just a name, it sounded wholesome and pure and so damn important.

“Hey,” he spoke with a huff of laughter that felt awkward and forced.

He sounded just as insecure as he had that first time you’d met, Will dragging you over to meet the rest of the boys after he’d quite literally run into you during orienteering earlier in the day. Frankie had been anything but smooth, used to hanging with the boys, and not some gorgeous woman who stole his breath away.

Had you always been on base? How had he not seen you before? He was certain he would have remembered seeing that smile before, and those eyes. The moment you met his gaze, he had been lost, and any attempt at speaking had come out so damn garbled that it had taken him weeks to get the others to shut up about it.

It had been far too long since you’d spoken, all those years of comfort that had grown between you reverting back as his insecurities crept their way back in once more. But, damn, was it good to hear your voice again.

“How are you?” the question was so impersonal that it had Frankie closing his eyes in embarrassment as soon as the words had left his mouth, wishing he could take them back, wishing he could have been smooth and suave, anything but the awkward mess he seemed to be as he pottered around the house anxiously.

Your breath caught on the other side of the line, a giddy smile filling your features as you curled up on the sofa of your apartment. God, it was good to hear that voice again.

“I’ve missed you.” The words passed your lips before you could even think to stop them. The admission was far more than he had asked for, but it felt so good to get it off your chest. You had missed him from the moment you had left, hell, you had missed him from the moment you agreed to take the damn job that had uprooted your entire life.

“I’ve missed you too,” he admitted with a sigh of relief, letting your words curl around him like a comforting blanket. Maybe you were just being polite, sure, but he doubted it. You never said something you didn’t mean, at least, not to him, and he was holding onto that fact desperately as his pacing finally came to a halt. “I wish you were here.”

Damn, he really had no control over his mouth, did he?

But before he could berate his idiotic mind for forgetting to filter thoughts from speech, he heard the way you inhaled sharply. Your words followed quickly, leaving no time for him to over analyse the sound.

“So do I.”

[scarlettwitcher]

Úlfur minn Part One

Request: by @laneygthememequeen​: Hello lovely! I just saw that youre open to requests and are itching to write something for soft boi geralt! If you’re open to it, can I request a geralt x reader where reader seems like super innocent but is like an actual warrior/badass and he’s just like in awe. Or maybe where the reader is in like a dress for some reason and she usually doesn’t wear dresses because they’re inconvenient for fighting and ends up having to fight in the dress. take care and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Summary: After Jaskier is finally able to convince Geralt to be his bodyguard for Pavetta’s betrothal dinner, shit goes down and Geralt has to make the decision of whether or not he should tell Y/n how he really feels.

Characters: Geralt, Reader, Jaskier, Calanthe, Eist, Mousesack, Pavetta, Duny, mentions of secondary characters in the show.

Word Count: 2336

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of guts, lots of angst, canon typical warnings, also the title is in Icelandic, it was just something cute for plot.

Author’s Notes: So, I’m not gonna lie, this one got away from me. I found that Episode 4, Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials fit this request perfectly. This will be a four part mini series. I’m actually really excited to release this to y’all. Million of thanks out to my girl @queenxxxsupreme​. She’s been such an amazing help with writing The Witcher. Everyone send her lots of love! I am accepting requests so please, send them in! If you’d like to be a tag as well, just let me know! Thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!

“I tell you no lie. It swallowed the whole village, it did. Not a bone to be found!” The man took a second to breathe before scowling at another. “Of, don’t give me that look, shitling. That’s why we had to call him…” The man stood up for emphasis as he recalled the events he had witnessed earlier. “The White Wolf! And he stood in the middle of that frozen lake like he knew it was coming for him. The ice cracked open and a Selkiemore shot out! Oh, you’ve never seen one, but it’d take down a ship with its cavernous mouth full of devil’s teeth!” You tried to stifle your snort as everyone gasped. You took a drink of your ale, quickly scowling at the cup for the foul taste. “And it… swallowed… that Witcher… whole!” 

“Oh, this is brilliant!” You giggled quietly to yourself as you heard Jaskier and slowly reached over, poking his head gently making him look up at everyone staring at him in confusion. “Oh, sorry. It’s just Geralt’s usually so stingy with the details. Uh… and then what happened?”

“He died.”

“Eh… He’s fine.”

“Look, I was there. I saw it with my own-” The door swung open, cutting the man off as Geralt slowly walked into the room, a thick awful smell filling the room. Everyone parted immediately, giving Geralt room to walk straight towards the man. Your eyes widened as you saw him, covered head to toe in guts and it took everything in you not to rush to his side to see if he was okay.

“See?” Jaskier let out a loud laugh and you elbowed him as you stood, making your way over to Geralt, touching his elbow gently before moving to the other side of the tavern, knowing Geralt would make his way over there.

“Oh… What’s that stench?”

“Selkiemore guts. Had to get it from the inside. I’ll take what I’m owed.” 

“Toss a coin to your witcher. O, Valley of Plenty o-oh-oh” As you heard the song leave the bard’s lip, you smiled softly to yourself knowing how much Geralt hated it. Soon everyone joined Jaskier and cheered as they were now monster free.

Once Geralt received payment, he made his way over to you, laying his sword on the table as you smiled up at him and pulled out your handkerchief that you always carried with you and started to wipe his face. Geralt watched you with a reserved softness that he only had for you. Before either of you could get a word out, Jaskier approached behind the both of you.“You're welcome. And now, Witcher, it’s time to repay your debt.” The bartender handed Geralt a mug of ale but before you could advise him not to, he took a sip, and immediately spit it out to the side, getting some on your pants as he stared the bartender down with what could be called rage. “What debt, you’re probably asking yourself in your head right now. Well, I’ll tell you. I’ve made you famous, Witcher. By rights, I should be claiming ten percent of all your coin, but instead, what I’m asking for is a teeny, teeny-weeny little favor.”

“Jaskier, let the man breathe would you. He’s covered in guts.” The Witcher shot you a soft glance. He’d never admit it to anyone but he loved the way you cared about him. He never knew how you could be so kind, caring, and...innocent.

“Y/n, please. Geralt’s already ready for the nex-”

“Fuck off, bard.” You giggled as Geralt gave you a side smile and Jaskier rolled his eyes at your antics. He knew you both had some kind of feelings for each other but would never admit it, because frankly, you both were stubborn idiots.

“Listen Geralt, for one measly night of service you will gain a cornucopia of earthly delights. The greatest masters of the culinary arts crafting morsels worthy of the gods. Maidens that would make the sun itself blush with a single comely smile. And rivers of the sweetest of drinks from the rarest of-” You watched in amusement as Geralt turned around to leave, showing he didn’t care for what the bard was offering. “Fuck! Food, women and wine, Geralt.” 

This made Geralt stop in his tracks before slowly turning to look at the bard. Jaskier’s eyes drifted to you for a second, a bit of guilt creeping in as he saw the way you had momentarily slumped into yourself at the mention of women. Geralt sighed before nodding once, making his way out of the tavern, you and Jaskier following him in haste as you made way to an inn. Before long, you had rented a large suite for the three of you. You walked into the bathroom and prepared a bath for Geralt as he silently followed you into the room, carefully stripping himself of his clothes, not wanting to drop guts on anything else in the room. You knew what he was doing and instantly turned your back to him, feeling your cheeks heat up. You already saw him shirtless and felt the need blossoming in your chest like it always did when you saw him or any part of him. 

“You didn't have to.” 

“I w-wanted to. It gives me a chance to see how you are. Besides, Jask has been on you since we left the tavern and we have a few minutes now, Úlfur minn.”

“You worry too much.” With that, Geralt slowly sat inside the tub. You finally turned around to look at him and it took every ounce of strength of your being to not look down. He knew he was affecting you as your cheeks turned a darker red and smirked as he watched you.

“A s-simple thank you would've been nice.”

“Thank you Y/n.” Geralt mumbled softly. You felt yourself melt at the way he said your name and cleared your throat, moving around the room, getting the necessary items to help him wash off the monster guts now dried on his skin and hair.  You grabbed a chair and sat behind him, laying the objects on the floor. You rolled the sleeves of your shirt (or in this case, Geralt’s shirt that you suspected he never noticed you took) and scooted closer to him. If he didn't stink so much, you could have sworn on your life you would've laid a kiss on his head. Before you could even do anything, Jaskier barged into the room and grabbed the bucket of water you had on the side, dumping it on Geralt's head. He grunted angrily at Jaskier as he looked up at him with disdain. 

“Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night body guarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Oh. Oh, really? So, Y/n is your friend but I’m not? Do you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom or even Y/n?” You looked at Jaskier with confusion as you looked down at Geralt and you could’ve sworn he sunk a bit in the tub as he remained quiet and watched Jaskier, his eyes watching his every move threateningly. You took this opportunity to grab some soap and rub it into his hair, washing away all the grime he had. Geralt immediately relaxed under your touch and even leaned into your hands, relishing in the way you dragged your fingers in his hair, grunting quietly when a finger got caught in a knot. He would never say it but this was one of his favorite things: when you played with his hair.

“Yeah, well, yeah, exactly. That’s what I thought. Every lord, knight and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself will sing the praises of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!” Geralt watched unfazed as Jaskier threw salt into his bath and you smiled proudly at Jaskier’s confidence and even did a tiny fist bump in the air for him to which he responded back with a tiny, dramatic bow.

“How many of these lords want to kill you?”

“Hard to say. One stops keeping count after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes.” Geralt scowled at him, already regretting the decision he knew he was going to have to unwittingly take. You scrunch your face at Jaskier, wondering how he could sleep with so many women, how the both of them could. You would never admit it to the Witcher but it always pained you to watch him walk off, knowing he was in search of a warm body for the night. Jaskier always consoled you in those dark nights but after a while, you became used to the pain. 

“Ooh, yeah, that face! Ohh! Scary face! No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.” Geralt grabbed the mug of ale you had brought him earlier, bringing it to his lips, but before he could take a sip, Jaskier had plucked the cup and moved it away from him. “Ohh, on second thoughts… might wanna lay off the Cintran ale.” Geralt groaned and you moved your hand quickly to his back, gently massaging him. It worked and he relaxed once more under your touch. Jaskier could only watch in amusement. You both acted like a couple but were just friends. ”A clear head would be best.”

“I will not suffer tonight sober just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry. I’m not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men.” 

“Yes, yes, yes. You never get involved. Except you actually do, all of the time." Geralt glared at Jaskier before leaning into your touch once more. “Ugh, is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crotchety and cantankerous? Actually, I’ve always wanted to know, do Witchers ever retire?”

“Yeah. When they slow and get killed.”

“Come on, you must want something for yourself once all this… monster hunting nonsense is over with.”

You knew Jaskier was poking the bear. This wasn't the first time the bard asked Geralt this and probably wouldn't be the last but you hated how Geralt responded every time. You always scolded Jaskier when he asked the Witcher this. Jaskier was the only one who knew of your feelings for the big, white haired man and had bestowed the honor upon himself of getting you two together. But it never worked. It just confirmed your fears over and over. Geralt didn't feel anything for you other than strictly platonic emotions. Jaskier looked at you with sympathetic eyes before they dropped down to Geralt. He saw the conflict behind his eyes. His answer was always you. He wanted to tell you but since the first time you met, you made yourself perfectly clear that you only wanted to be friends. Ever since, he's got amazingly well at hiding his feelings for you. “I want nothing.”

Jaskier could only internally groan as he wanted to scream at the both of you. “Well, who knows? Maybe someone out there will want you.” Jaskier stared at you as he spoke and your eyes widened as you shook your head violently. Jaskier sighed as he looked at Geralt. You looked down at your hands, thinking of an excuse to get away from the two men. You didn’t notice the way he turned to look at you, his eyes softening. He turned back around to Jaskier, his face hardening quickly.

“I need no one. And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

“And yet…” You stood up so quickly, the chair you were sitting on fell back onto the floor. You almost ran out of the room, feeling your eyes hot with unshed tears. Jaskier sighed and shook his head, pointing towards the door where you had run out of. “Here we are.”

“Hm... Jaskier, don't start with this again.”

“If only you could see the way she looks at you.”

“I said don’t.” Geralt needed a distraction as his head was now invaded with thoughts of you. The way you ran out because of his words gave him just a little sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything Jaskier bugged him about, day and night, was true. “Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”

“Ah. Well, uh, they were sort of covered in Selkiemore guts, so I sent them away to be washed. Anyway you’re not going tonight as a witcher and neither is Y/n going as the healer she is. I’ve got clothes for both of you, don’t worry about it.”

With that, Jaskier took his leave into the next room where he found you sitting on the bed with your head in your knees. He slowly approached you and rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at the bard, red rimmed eyes, staring down his sad ones.” I didn’t think he'd answer so….I’m sorry Y/n.”

“I-it’s okay Jask. You’ve just been wrong. He really doesn't even look at me as more than a friend. That's all I am, a friend. Besides, he doesn't want a prude like me.”

“You're not a prude Y/n.” You stood and took a deep breath as you walked around the room with pensive thoughts clouding your head. “Look, I was able to get you a rather beautiful dress and I might've bedded a hairdresser...She agreed to help.” You frowned at Jaskier as you quickly shook your dress.

“Dress? Oh no, no, no. I don't like dresses. You know this Jask.”

“You're gonna have to deal with it Y/n. If Calanthe can wear a dress, then so can you.” You groaned loudly at him as he laughed softly. You nodded at him to show you the dress and thus, you all prepared to attend the dreaded event.

*~*

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean​ @authoressskr​ @sorenmarie87​ @reigningqueenofwords​ @goldenolaf25​ @giftofdreams​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @chelsea072498​ @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian​ @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel​ @fictionalabyss​ @gabby913​ @angelkurenai​ @sea040561​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @carryonmyswansong​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @evyiione​ @supersassyprobablysad​ @sofreddie​ @sis-tafics​ @nitelotus​ @trexrambling​ @dancingalone21​ @manawhaat​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @winchest09​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @lovebodymindstuff​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​ @chook007​ @akshi8278​ @evansrogerskitten​ @bringmesomepie56​

[nagisasstunningpersonality]

TINSITOGS, a retrospective (happy birthday)

(yes I’m like two days too late I know I’m sorry) 

Why hello followers and ass class fandom, nice to see you there. I’m sure MOST people know about this, but in case you don’t, hi. On AO3 I’m better known as livixbobbiex, writer of maybe one of the most infamous Assassination Classroom fics. 

Which I mean like, if you haven’t read it yet you totally should it’s fanlore at this point I promise- 

Shameless plug that I don’t need aside, I felt that, on its first birthday since actual completion, I just wanted to share some things about it. Some tit bits about writing it, fun facts, maybe even some author advice TM. I appreciate that it’ll be super annoying if I do that in the tags, though, so that’ll all be under the cut. If you don’t want to read the whole post, then no matter what, thanks for the support in general! 

I also want to take the opportunity to announce that I’ve reopened my discord, so if you want to talk about my fics with me (and others), you’re more than welcome to join! (the link is here) 

The origin story 

I’ve stated this many times, I think, but TINSITOGS was never supposed to be a serious story. Taking you back, quite a long time, it actually started in a facebook DM with a friend. We used to come up with “head canons” with each other, which were basically just very condensed fanfiction plots over a multitude of text messages. I believe I was trying to cheer her up, and I tried to come up with some kind of plot line. 

At the time, I was fairly fresh to the Ass Class fandom, and I was joking about how there were no teen pregnancy melodrama fanfictions. It wasn’t that I wanted one, I just thought it was strange for a school centric anime with a bunch of ships to NOT have one. And, back then, I only really cared about karmagisa. So I just decided ‘right it’s happening’. The reason I decided to make it ABO was due to ‘it making sense’. Fun fact: it was almost written as AFAB trans Nagisa, but I decided against it as I didn’t rate my ability to handle it well back then. Looking back on it, I’m glad I made that decision. 

Over around two months, writing out the plot of this story took over my life a little bit. I had no idea where I was going with it, but I was having so much fun with the drama that I decided that Karma and Nagisa shouldn’t get together soon at all, and I had a lot of fun teasing my friend with the ‘will they won’t they’. It was only when I got bored that I invented this intense drama plotline to finish it all off. 

That period of time was a lot of fun. And whilst that friendship didn’t end well, I still have a lot to thank her for. She chose Daichi’s name because I had no idea, and she wanted to annoy me because I didn’t like Haikyuu. When I couldn’t decide on his hair colour, the purple was her suggestion because ‘why logic?’ Daichi speaking Korean was because of how much she liked Kpop. She even helped me choose the title of the actual fic, so there’s a lot you can thank her for, honestly. 

After I finished that story, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I daydreamed, I used to think about that damn Daichi Akabane, and how much I wanted to tell his story. I’d even come up with extra stuff to fill in a lot of the gaps, and developed his character in my mind. I decided that I was really desperate to write it down. Usually that worked when I had an idea I wanted to work through. 

I wrote the first chapter in late 2017, and then the next two as well. I just, kept going, and realised that I could go further still. TINSITOGS was never something that was supposed to be shared, but I decided I may as well. After all, that fated ‘teen pregnancy drama’ fic still didn’t exist, and I thought it would be funny to make it happen. 

Yes, as I’ve stated publicly a few times, TINSITOGS was a crack fic. If I wanted attention from it, it was infamy. We even joked about me cursing the fandom if it ever became the most popular fic (whoops?). What I wasn’t expecting was a bunch of people, in a fandom where at the time there were NO ongoing karmagisa fics and it was pretty dead, to really seem to enjoy it. It was enough to have me keep writing it, at least. I still don’t know at what point I actually started taking it seriously, but somehow I did, and the rest is history? 

The reception 

In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be the author of one of the most popular fics in the fandom. To this day, the amount of views TINSITOGS has is insanity to me. For the record, across all platforms it’s on today it has 238,000, which is literally a number I can’t even visualise anymore. Almost quarter of a MILLION. To this day on AO3, it’s the most viewed Ass Class fic that’s an ACTUAL ass class fic (the others are multi fandom compilations). So yeah, I achieved the original goal, I guess? 

Now you might be wondering, “omg the karmagisa fandom is fujoshi trash”. And, considering the origins, it is kind of funny. The thing is, though, TINSITOGS was written at incredibly good time. It was written when there were, essentially, very few long form Karma/Nagisa stories. If any other fics did get posted on occasion, they were usually just oneshots. I was also, at that point, writing very fast. A symptom of ADHD is becoming obsessively productive over certain things. Since I was able to get a 3k chapter out every few days/once a week, TINSITOGS was consistently bumped to the top of AO3′s default view. And some of those first few chapters were altered canon, and transcribing the canon dialogue didn’t take very long. The more views it got, the more people would read it out of sheer curiosity. 

I think it also helps that, at least after it started getting some positive feedback (which was honestly after the pre written chapters), I purposely tried to make it ‘not terrible’. I mean, I personally think the first chapter is pretty weak and if it wasn’t somewhat iconic to a lot of people I’d rewrite it. But in general, I purposely tried to make the world of ABO my own, to make it more accessible to those who don’t like that genre, and stay away from the inherently grosser stuff as much as possible. I genuinely do get comments about how I introduced people to the genre as a whole, still not sure if that’s a GOOD thing but hey, it happened. 

TINSITOGS turned into a lot more than just a joke. It turned into my favourite hobby. It turned into a research project (honestly, you would not believe the amount of mummy vlogs and legit scientific articles about child development I consumed). It turned into something that, at least I believe, was widely loved. 

Meaning 

I think it might be wrong to say that I don’t have AN idea of when I started to take the fic super seriously. For me, it was around the time someone commented something along the lines of saying my writing meant a lot to them, that they’d spent all night reading it and had been unable to put it down. 

Not to get too dark here, but I do have a past in writing a very long, somewhat popular fic (it’s still on my fanfic net profile if anyone’s interested, but I don’t recommend it). However, in the latter part of my teenage years, the depression struck. Writing was the love of my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore. Maybe I’d be able to muster an idea or even a chapter at the best points of that, but I’d never completely finished any story. Starting to write again was a huge step in my recovery, and one of the reasons I convinced myself that life was worth it was being able to impact someone’s life somehow. Even to this day, I still remember the fics I read when I was, like, thirteen. How much I still remember them, and how much they meant to be at the time. I wanted to be that writer for someone else. To be honest, it was actually Yuri!!! On Ice that got me out of the super bad, but I still never wrote anything of real consequence. TINSITOGS was the first time in a long time I actually committed to something. 

And, to be completely honest, there were a lot of times I was tired of it, and wanted to just quit. But, the thing was, I felt like people depended on me in a way. I got so many comments that were just FILLED with support, telling me how much they looked forward to every update. It wasn’t just empty words, either, a lot of the times these comments would be super engaged with the actual writing. I can’t even describe just how much they meant to me, how much I would look forward to reading everyone’s opinions. And then discord happened, which was a lot of fun. 

TINSITOGS went a lot further than I ever thought it would. There were comments, discussions, fan art, fan FIC (which is honestly incredible to me). Someone even added it to TV Tropes, at one point. Not to mention the Cards Against Humanity deck and quiz It makes me so unbelievably happy that I could inspire that much creativity, but it’s a two way street. It was all of that which inspired me to write, too. 

Writing 

The only real goal I actually had was aiming for around 3000 words per chapter. I had a whole facebook log of plot points as planning, and I was mostly just trying to expand on them into prose. I honestly thought that, at its completion, the entire fic would be around 100k words, if that. Not, at one point, being literally the longest ass class fic on AO3. 

There are a lot of aspects that were directly adapted from the original messages, and I tried to stay faithful to it more so at first, even if I later removed some of the pure crack. But the style was also vaguely similar, with the story being told mostly from Nagisa’s perspective with swaps to Karma when it made sense. All the main plot beats, too, are pretty much identical. The plus to this was I was able to add a lot of really fun foreshadowing, and I feel like it’s a fun reread because of it. 

Honestly though, if there’s a demand to release those OG message logs, I will. Mostly because it’s kind of funny, and interesting to see. Isogai and Nagisa were engaged at one point, even. 

Obviously, it changed somewhat. 3000 was the minimum length, and the time to completion was whenever it felt right. One of my big concerns was about pacing, so it took a lot more fleshing out and maybe ‘filler’ content for some of the main arcs to work. 

There’s parts of TINSITOGS I don’t think aren’t written that well, and some that I’m still super proud of. I think you can definitely tell there’s a gradual shift in style, and I get a lot more comfortable with writing them as characters as it goes along. To be honest, my pride for the fic overall is what it represents. 

It is funny to think about the places it got written in, though. I started it when I worked at McDonalds with no life direction, then it went through my first year of university with me. It’s been written in at least four countries. Aeroplanes, night clubs, long haul buses, a train through the Japanese southern coastline. Even the start of covid. TINSITOGS managed to see a lot. I even turned a scene in (the boat scene during the India chapter with altered names) to my university as a legitimate assignment. 

There were also a few messages I wanted to achieve, once I realised I had the platform to put them across. One of them was, obviously, ‘use protection kids’. It was important to me that I didn’t glamorise it too much, and I think that came across. I also wanted to dispute some of the issues with ABO, and subvert the consent issues as much as I could. An arc I really ‘liked’ writing was how abuse doesn’t always look the same way, and that it can be a drawn out change in behaviour. How the most important part of ‘being a good parent’ isn’t perfection, but genuinely loving and doing the best you can for your kid. How love doesn’t solve everything, and effective communication can take a very long time to learn and build a functional relationship. I mean, there definitely was a lot I tried to put in, and you’re free to interpret it all how you want. But, I like to think some people learnt some of these things, at least. 

Daichi 

Honestly, Daichi developed almost of his own free will. I had a good idea of his appearance, and that he was smart. Writing him from birth until around nine years old (older if you read the sequel fic) pretty much allowed that fluidity. It was really fun to explore a nature vs nurture development, and let his own characteristics speak for themselves. 

He’ll always have a special place in my heart. 

This is the first image I ever made. When I was trying to figure out what Daichi looked like, I honestly just edited Karma’s hair (pretty well, actually? I’m impressed with my past skill). That’s where the ‘he looks just like Karma’ meme kind of came from. 

This was the first image I actually created of Daichi. I THINK it was on rinmaru games mega anime creator or something, but it’s literally not available on the internet anymore as far as I can tell, so I can’t double check. This was in the pre-piccrew days. His eyes are closed because they didn’t have the right tone of goldish/silver.  

His sister, Kaguya, didn’t even exist originally, even though I decided on that ending pretty early on. Actually, she was going to be called ‘Irina’ due to some hijinks. Initially, when Karma found out about Irina’s pregnancy, she was going to get super emotional and mad at him and basically force him to name his first born daughter after her. Karma agreed to shut her up, never intending to have another child, so when the surprise second child later came along they had to live with the pain. However, to be honest I just forgot to write in the actual scene that set it all up, and I decided against adding it anywhere else. The name Kaguya was a very last minute decision, and it was a chance for me to explore some ideas that didn’t fit with Daichi’s character. 

Interestingly too, Daichi and Nao were never intended to be a thing. I only decided that towards the VERY end. Even though the reason I named Nao that was because of a ship I had in a J Drama (Good Morning Call). It just kind of ended up happening because I won myself over with imagining the cute. 

The music 

I used to write with a lot of background music, though not all the time. Particularly towards the start, there was a lot that didn’t really make sense thematically, yet I would write to a lot. 

Here’s a link to the spotify playlist if you want it it’s basically all the ones I noted I’d listened to a lot. Not including the smut ones, though, I have a whole playlist for that. 

Some of the notable ones: 

Five String Serenade - the first scene I wrote of the entire fic, in Chapter 25 New Year Time where they fell asleep cuddling. 

Cosmic Love - when I wrote Nagisa’s love confession scene in hospital (I also wrote this pretty early on) 

Northern Downpour (though it was actually a cover by Emma Blackery) - The chapter after Daichi’s born (30) 

When The Party’s Over -  Confession Time Third Period, Chapter 69. I literally listened to this song on REPEAT when I planned and wrote the kind of ‘break up’ scene, and it’s one of the few parts that made me cry writing. 

Turning Page - I know I said no smut, but this song actually gave me the idea to have the “I love you” in chapter 108 be less on a whim and actually more built up. In the original plan, Karma really did just say it without thinking. I’m glad I changed that.  

Bury Me Low and Numb - pretty much all I listened to when writing the last few chapters, because Evil Nagisa core. So much so that Bury Me Low was in my top 2020 songs rewind. 

As for the title, there’s actually quite a funny story. I had no idea what to call the fic, and when that happens I usually just try and find some song lyrics. I really wanted to use something from ‘October’ by the Broken Bells. Not only because it’s my favourite song (has been for years), but thematically it really worked. The issue was, it worked as the WHOLE song, there were no individual lyrics that captured everything. And, if they did, they didn’t flow very well. And naming the fic ‘October’ would have been weird for a lot of reasons. There Is No Sweeter Innocence That Our Gentle Sin really was just plucked randomly, in a desperate search to find any snappy lyrics from any song that had some kind of meaning. After a bit of discussion, we settled that it kind of worked... if Daichi is innocent and they committed a sin or something. It also wasn’t the most obvious lyric from the song (Take Me To Church if anyone doesn’t know) so I just went with it. It works out, I think, because TINSITOGS turned out to be a pretty good acronym and pronounceable word in its own right. 

The merch  redbubble drama 

It’s a well known fact that I’m not very good at art. However, I decided to try pixel art because it seemed the easiest to not mess up. I made Karma and Nagisa, before deciding to also give Daichi a try. 

This, to this day, is the only good quality art of Daichi that I actually own. The only one I’m actually happy sharing and thinking it doesn’t look terrible. As much as I love people sending me fanart, it’s not ‘my property’, right. 

So, I was kind of joking about TINSITOGS having merchandise. At first I just made two funny quote things, and uploaded it to redbubble. I was never intending to actually make money from this, and I’d agreed to myself that if I did, I would just donate it to charity. I was joking with the quotes, but since I had this artwork I figured I may as well uploaded. Separately, there was also an image that had pixel Daichi next to pixel Nagisa and Karma (which I also created). 

Aside from showing up in a few people’s adverts across the internet, there was no real harm with this. In fact, I didn’t make money anyway. It was just... more the joke of it existing. I did, however, buy myself a Daichi phone case, which is one of my favourite possessions. 

The funny ‘drama’ comes in when they got taken down due to copywrite. Sure, the one with Nagisa and Karma, I understand. But the other three literally had no mention or anything to do with Assassination Classroom, aside from being from a fanfiction. So basically, someone who owns those rights claimed my OC as theirs. Which makes Daichi canon? Whatever the case, I found this hilarious don’t worry. 

How has TINSITOGS changed my life? 

This is quite a strange thing to think about. Because, in a lot of ways, it really hasn’t. As I’m sure a lot of people know, I don’t really consider myself to have any real ‘fame’, despite the impressive numbers. Whenever I tell people in my personal life, they seem to think I’m some sort of internet celebrity, but that’s never been the case for me. I mean, it’s hardly a cultural phenomenon. 

In a lot of ways, I’d much rather befriend someone than have them admire me. Possibly because being someone’s inspiration is kind of weird... I’m just an awkward duck who likes to write after all. I don’t mind it, though. I genuinely find it an honour, even if I don’t necessarily agree. I also want to take this time to say that if anyone ever wants to talk or message me, you’re more than free to do so. I’m usually super casual with people who do that, I promise. 

TINSITOGS was the first story I ever finished in the way I truly wanted to. Start to end, a full narrative. And it took a LOT. There were so many times I almost felt like quitting, or took super long breaks. For me, ADHD queen, actually finishing something was a huge deal. And I know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t owe it to everyone who read it, and myself, to see it through. You know like, if I were to die tomorrow, at least I’ve left something behind. 

In a lot of ways, it’s changed me for the better. It’s helped me develop my writing styles, and way of thinking. It encouraged me to become more active in the fandom, and develop some important friendships. I always feel like my Tumblr and Fanfiction ‘known’ factor is separate. I think most of my Tumblr following is more to do with my theories/Japanese context research if anything, for example, but I know I wouldn’t be so interested in that if TINSITOGS hadn’t lead me to deeply examine character and really look into analysing source material for clues. I also think there’s just... a lot of myself in it. 

I was 17 years old, when I first came up with the idea. I finished the story when I was 20. Now, at the time of writing, I’m 21. That time has seen some pretty significant changes - just in general life facts and my own personal human development. For me at least, a lot of that was pretty turbulent, and TINSITOGS stands as a time capsule for that, in a way. 

I know I gained a lot of confidence, and it affirmed to me that writing is what I love. Telling stories and sharing them is what I love. 

Conclusion

Do I think TINSITOGS is an outstanding piece of writing, or the best fic ever? No. I really don’t. It’s strange to say because I definitely spent a lot of time on it, but it’s not like I put my full unbridled efforts into the story. I don’t fully plan, use a beta, or even read through on my own. And that’s okay - that’s not what I write fanfiction for. Fanfiction is my place to have fun with characters and stories I like, without the pressures of having to stand on my own complete originality. Yes, I’m fully confident that I can write at a “higher quality”, if I really wanted to. I’m also aware that some authors put their full effort into their fics, and that’s just as valid! 

It feels odd to say this about my own writing, but I honestly think there’s just something in this story. It might not be written in the best prose ever, and the premise might be kind of dumb for a lot of people. But, I think, there’s some part of this fic that managed to grab people. Somehow, at some point, many readers get captured into the emotions and so drawn in that ‘they just have to finish it now!’ Again, I’m not sure myself how I actually achieved that. Of course, that won’t apply to everyone, but I do feel there’s some truth in it. And it makes me happy, to have caused that. 

If TINSITOGS is your favourite fic, or if you genuinely think it’s the best story you’ve read, then thank you. I really appreciate your support, and I’m happy to have been a part of your life, I guess. I know how much fanfics can mean to a person, and that’s why I’m not going to take it down, or edit it at all. And it’s fine too, if you loved the fic for a while and moved on -i t happens. Whatever the case, I’m very honoured to have been able to occupy a moment of your life. Or if you find this fic in 10 years time, even, I still wholly appreciate you. 

This story was incredibly important to me, and thank you for reading if it was ever important to you too. 

You may ask, what now? Well, this is only intended to be a detailed look back for whoever’s interested, and it’s likely the only one I’ll actually do, a year after completion. Of course, if you ever want to ask me anything or just discuss the story, you’re honestly good to contact me in whatever way I have available. 

I’m still writing my ongoing stories, of course, despite taking a small break due to the university work load. I fully intend to complete the stories I’ve already started to tell, at least. After that... I’m not sure if I’ll still write fanfiction. Don’t panic, this isn’t a ‘I’m quitting writing’ thing. I may, however, have bled the Karmagisa genre a bit too dry at that point. Who knows? I am pretty interested in writing something original for once, so maybe that’ll work out. 

For now, at least, thank you to anyone who read this fic. To anyone who commented, liked, or interacted with me over it. To anyone who created or learnt from it. I’m really glad that I got to share this story with you all, and ultimately left some kind of mark, no matter how big or small. 

Happy birthday, TINSITOGS. I had a lot of fun writing you. 

[lost-in-the-80s]

It’s You pt. 2

Pairing: Duff McKagan x (fem) reader

Words: 2,829k

Summary: You and Duff are best friends and you help him to impress a girl. You should be happy for him, but then why do you feel sad? You couldn’t like him, could you? (fluff) 

A/N: 1- Hi guys! I’m back with the second part! I hope you guys like it :)

        2- We’ll keep calling her She.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car​ @ladieswttda​ add yourself to my tag list :)

Part 1

Could he love Y/N in a way that friends shouldn't love each other? 

This question haunted his mind all night and day. He almost didn’t sleep and when he woke up it was the only thing he could think of. 

It was a difficult situation. If he liked Y/N he would have to say something, but what if she didn’t like him back?

When the evening arrived he took a shower, put on a pair of black jeans, his CBGB t-shirt, and his new leather jacket. He looked at his reflection on the mirror while he put on some cologne. He sighed, Y/N would come to pick him up in a few minutes, still he had no clue about what he was going to do.

He was starting to hate this situation. He not only had to realize who he really liked, but he would have to stay for almost an hour in the car with Y/N, and by now the thought of being around her was starting to make him anxious. Not because of her, but because he was scared of ruining everything.

If it was a normal decision, Y/N would have been the first person he would ask for advice. But now she was the subject, and he couldn’t just ask her to help him understand how he felt about her.

Exiting the bathroom he decided to talk to his other best friend. Knocking on the door, he waited until a shirtless Slash appeared. “Hey man, I need some help”.

“Come in mate,” Slash said, opening the door for him. “What’s it?”

Slash sat on his bed, beside his acoustic guitar that he had been previously playing while Duff leaned against Slash’s desk. 

“Fuck, it’s complicated” Duff sighed before starting to tell him everything.

After listening to the whole story Slash spoke up. “Well, at least you’re starting to realize that there is something there”

Duff frowned. “Why does everybody seem to say it?”

“Because there is something Duff. Like, on the day I met you I thought you two were a couple.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Duff started to get frustrated again. Opening his jacket pocket he grabbed a cigarette and lighted it up, taking a long drag.

“What do I do Slash? It was supposed to be simple, I would get in the car, go to that fucking amusement park, impress her and it would be done. But now it’s way more than that. I have to understand this before I get in that car.”

“Why the rush, man?”

Duff groaned. “If it’s Y/N I don’t want to be with someone else. I don’t wanna waste my time with her if she’s not the one, you know?” 

“You already know the answer dude.” Slash said, picking up his guitar and playing a few delicate notes on it.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here Saul.”

Slash rolled his eyes at the sound of his name. “If you don’t really know, I think you should take a moment to yourself and think about what you like about each one of them. And then think about how your life would be without them.” 

Duff looked to the floor while he took the last drag of his cigarette. “But in my opinion, you know very well the answer, you’re just pretending you don’t.”

Duff stared into his eyes. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could do it Steven’s voice filled the house. “DUFF!!” 

Duff rolled his eyes. “What!?” 

“Y/N’s here to pick you up!”

“Fuck” Duff said before exiting the house and getting into Y/N’s car.

“Hey!” She said with a sweet smile, and for a brief moment he forgot about his nerves. 

“Hi” He mumbled while adjusting the safety belt.

“Nice jacket.”

“Thank you.” He replied while looking through the window. He was so fucked now. 

The long drive to the amusement park was quiet, the only sound filling the car being Y/N’s tape of Led Zeppelin II. She would murmured the words for her favorite songs and Duff joined her sometimes. 

When “Thank You” started playing he looked at her, he knew she loved that song.

She was looking ahead, paying attention to the traffic. The sun was setting and the bright orange illuminated her face. If someone had asked Duff what was the most beautiful piece of art he had seen, he would answer by telling them about this moment. 

After the tape had ended and the third song of “L.A Woman” by The Doors started playing they arrived.

“Just make a quick stop and I’ll exit.” Duff said looking through his window.

Y/N didn’t say anything, moving towards the parking lot. Turning off the engine she leaned on her seat trying to reach for her purse on the back seat.

“What’re you doing?” Duff asked with wide eyes.

“Well, I spent almost an hour driving you here, I’m hungry.” He stared at her eyes with a worried face.

“Relax, I won’t fuck your date up.” She said rolling her eyes. 

Opening her purse she took some money, putting on her shorts pocket before putting her bag underneath the seat.

Exiting the green Ford Bronco, Duff waited until Y/N locked the door and walked on her side until they got to the gates of the park. 

“Do you know where she’s going to be?” 

“Yeah, Jane said they would be near the Carousel.” 

Y/N nodded. 

“Well… I guess-” 

Before he could finish Y/N said “Go on... Call me if you need a ride back home.”

He nodded and started to walk towards where he thought the carousel would be. 

Y/N didn’t know why, but her heart clenched with every step he took. Sighing, she turned right and started walking.

While Duff walked, a million thoughts crossed his mind. What if he was making a mistake? What if Y/N was the one and not her? 

When he realized he was already at the carousel, and there she was, sitting on a table with her friends talking and laughing about something. 

He stopped in his tracks and suddenly, Axl’s voice filled his mind. “I always thought you and Y/N would end up together”

“there is a strong connection between the two of you."

"Plus, friends don't look at each other like that!"

Fuck. He thought to himself. 

Then Slash’s words popped up. “think about what you like about each one of them. And then think about how your life would be without them.”

This is it! He had to make a decision and it had to be now. 

Leaning against a light pole he took a cigarette and lighted it, hoping that it would help him think better. 

What did he like about Y/N?

She never pushed him to do things he didn’t like. She always laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny. He always felt calm when he was around her and she always found a way to calm him when he was having a panic attack. She liked the same bands as him. When they were together, they always had something to talk about. He liked it when the smell of her perfume stayed on his clothes whenever they hugged. His mom and siblings loved her. And the most important, she was always there with him, during the good and the bad times. 

And what did he like about her?

When he tried to think, nothing came into his mind, Y/N’s laugh was filling it completely, making it impossible for him to think about someone else. Fuck, he loved her laugh. 

Looking up to the now dark sky he thought to himself again. How would his life be without Y/N on it?

This made his heart clench, he didn’t want to think about it. He knew that if she disappeared from his life for any reason it would be too hard for him to handle. 

Now it was as clear as water. How couldn't he realize this earlier? How he never saw that he loved Y/N like this? 

It didn’t matter, he had to find her and tell her how he felt before it was too late.

Running back to the gates he decided to ask the old sir selling tickets if he had seen her. 

“Hi, sir, did you see a girl leaving the park? She is taller than most women and she’s wearing denim shorts and a red plaid shirt with cowboy boots. She has those dreamy eyes that make you want to sink on them,  and when she smiles it’s as if the world stopped. She also does this strange thing with her nose when she laughs and has that energy, that makes you wanna be around her.

Fuck, it felt so obvious that he liked her now. 

“Relax son, your girlfriend is still here. She bought 10 tickets about fifteen minutes ago. She went that direction.”  He said pointing.

“Thank you sir.” Duff started to walk fast. His girlfriend. He really wished she would be someday.

And there she was, at the end of the line for the bumper cars. 

“Hey.” He said approaching her.

She frowned. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn't you be with her?”

“Nah, you guys were right, she’s not worth it.” 

Y/N nodded. 

“Enjoying your night?” 

“Fuck yeah! Just went on the Chairoplane and the Pirate ship. It was fucking cool!” 

Duff smiled at her excitement. 

“Wanna come with me?” She said pointing towards the bumper cars.

“Fuck yeah!” 

They waited on the line until it was their turn. “Be nice.” He said pointing to Y/N. He knew how competitive she was. She just smiled innocently.

As soon as the alarm sounded Y/N was chasing him with her car. She crashed on Duff from behind. “Really Y/N?” He asked laughing. And so they carried on playing.

“I kicked your ass!” Y/N said laughing when they exited the place, making Duff laugh too. 

“Come, I wanna go on the Roller Coaster.” She grabbed his hand dragging him to an enormous roller coaster. 

Duff swallowed. “No way!”

“What? Don’t be a pussy, Duff!” 

“I’m not being a pussy!” She looked at him suggestively. “Ok, maybe I am, but there is no way I’m going on this.”  

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, wait for me then.” He nodded and waited patiently until she came back.

“You don’t know what you lost. It was so much fun!” She said when she came back, her hair all messed up and her trhoat sore from the screaming.

“I believe in you, but I don’t regret it.” He said grinning.

She just laughed. “Ghost train?”

“Now you’re speaking  my language!” 

They walked side to side until they reached the train. After just a few minutes on the line, it was their turn. They were lucky that the park was kind of empty that day. 

As soon as the ride started, the sound of screams filled the place. After passing by a man with an electric saw and a couple of people dressed like zombies, Y/N was starting to think it wasn’t scary at all. 

This thought changed as soon as the fake body of a hanged man fell right in front of them, making her scream and tug on Duff for protection. 

“It’s not real Y/N.” He said while he put his arms on top of her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. 

After that, they passed by witches, mummies and ETs, finally coming to the end of the ride. 

“Sorry about that.” Y/N said as they exited the train.

“It’s fine Y/n/N” 

“Duff!” You guys heard someone shout. It was her.

Y/N instantly rolled her eyes, getting annoyed. What if Duff regretted his decision? What if he decided to leave with her now and left Y/N alone?

“What are you doing here?” She asked, getting closer. “Jane told me you guys have a label now, I’m so happy for you!” She was right in front of him now.

“Thank you.” Duff said.

“Do you wanna go on a ride with me?”

“Nah, I think I will pass, I’m staying with Y/N tonight.”

Y/N's heart was filled with happiness from hearing this. 

“Are you sure?” She asked with a brow raised.

“Yeah! I see you around.” With that, he put his arm on Y/N’s shoulders again, this time guiding her in the opposite direction. 

“You hungry?” He looked down at her.

Y/N nodded excitedly. “Come, I’ll buy you something then.”

Once in the eating area, Y/N sat on a table until Duff came back with two hot dogs and two sodas. 

They ate while talking about random things. During the conversation, Y/N couldn't avoid paying attention to the small details about him. 

The way his eyes stared at hers, the ways his lips curved when he smiled, the ways his hands moved as he told her some old story. He was more than handsome, he was beautiful.

He always made her feel happy when they were together. Her problems and worries slowly vanishing from her mind as the only thing she could focus on was him.

After taking a sip from his Coke, Duff stated. “I’m choosing the next ride.”

“Fine. But choose something nice.”

“Don’t worry honey!” She smiled at the nickname. 

When they finished, Duff decided to buy cotton candy for them. “Which color do you want?” 

“White.” 

“White? Who chooses white for cotton candy?”

“Me!” She said laughing as the woman handed her the cotton candy stick.

They had just started to eat when Y/N pointed excitedly. “Look! A shooting booth! Let’s go there!” And so she dragged him.

Y/N  started to look for tickets in her pockets, a smile crept on her lips when she took one of them and put it on the booth counter.

“Who’s gonna be shooting?” The man behind the counter asked.

“Me!" Y/N said while she stretched her arms. 

The man looked towards Duff, who just made a gesture with his free hand as if saying he didn’t want to shoot while eating more cotton candy. 

The man handed Y/N the fake gun and started to explain the game. “The ducks will move from one side to another at the same speed all the time. You shoot three, you get a prize, you shoot all the six of them and you get that big bear over there.” He said, pointing to an enormous stuffed white bear. 

Y/N nodded. “Ready?” he asked, receiving another nod from her. 

Starting the game, Y/N aligned the gun on her shoulder and pointed to the fake ducks. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six shots, six ducks. 

Smiling proudly, Y/N put the gun on the counter. “So I get the big bear?”

Closing his mouth, the man handed Y/N the bear murmuring a “Congratulations.”

“How the fuck did you do that?” Duff asked once they had exited the booth, still not believing what he had seen.

“I’m from Alaska, remember? Very few people and many weapons. Everybody knows how to shoot.” Y/N said laughing a little. “Anyway, did you choose where you want to go? We just have two tickets left, so it will be the last ride of the night.”

“Yeah, I wanna go on the Ferris Wheel.” Duff said, throwing the cotton stick on a trash can after finishing.

“The Ferris Wheel? But it’s so boring!” Y/N said whining.

Duff simply shrugged looking back at her with pleading eyes.

“Fine.” She said, agreeing.

They walked towards it while Y/N carried the huge stuffed bear. 

Getting there, they handed the woman their tickets and took a seat, waiting for the ride to start.

Once it started they remained silent. Y/N looked forward, seeing the city lights fill the night, while Duff looked at her. When they reached the top, the ride came to a stop and Duff thought “This is now or never!”.

"Y/N."

"Hm?" She answered, looking at him.

He looked to his hands. "These past days many things haunted my mind. I started to think about some possibilities and the boys made me realize that I was hiding my true feelings from myself."

He looked up and saw her eyes glimpsing in his direction.

"And I realized that I love you Y/N! And I'm sorry for not having realized this sooner." 

She smiled at him, making him smile too.

"I think I love you too Duff." She said with a tender voice.

He put a lock of her hair behind her ear and leaned down.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked expectantly.

She nodded, and with that, his lips touched hers. And what started with just a small and simple touch, ended in a passionate kiss that had waited years to be shared.

After a few seconds, they parted ways, smiling at each other. Y/N leaned against Duff, who embraced her, and together they watched the city lights as the Ferris Wheel started moving again. 

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Arranged Chapter I (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: None for this chapter (series: E) 

Word Count: 4,004

Summary: Prince and Princess of your respective planets you both agree to wed, not for love, but for advantage and the public cannot know. But there’s only one problem -- the two have never met, not until your wedding day. 

A/N: so this has been several months in progress. I’ll be tagging folks who liked my original post (if you don’t want to be tagged, just shoot me a message!). there’s a lot of set up in this chapter, but i promise it will pay off. I hope you give this series a read b/c its really something special to me. Special shoutouts to @laneygthememequeen, @bucky-of-the-opera, and @mrsrafaelbarba for all the support!!! 

"Come on Poe, you cannot have seriously agreed to this," Poe Dameron did not bother to look from the mirror, eyes concentrated on delicately tucking the wide end into the knot before pulling it down into a nearly perfect loop. But why then, why did it feel like he was tying the noose around his neck before his long walk to the gallows? The dread his stomach certainly sat like it - twisting his guts into a kriffing useless knot, much like the one around his neck. 

"I already agreed to it, Finn," the knot hung a little crooked - well perfect enough - just as his life was, "long time ago." 

Was it that long? It was an instant. An instant that he went from sitting in his mother’s lap in her x-wing, listening to her hum, as she flipped switches and steered the ship across the sky over the Queen’s palace. The quiet buzz of the engine lulled him sleep, until she would rouse him as they swooped in for a soft landing after the daily patrol of the perimeter. The oranges of the sky now inky black, nothing but a glittering scattering of stars and distant planets he knew nothing of. 

And now, he was stuffed in a stranger’s all too stuffy suit, tying a tie, and his feet cramping in tight shoes - and as he stared at himself in the mirror - he barely recognized himself. Probably because he definitely didn’t choose these clothes. A tradition - the bride’s family chooses the groom’s clothes. As he resisted the urge to squirm in his aching feet in his shoes, he wondered if they were hoping he couldn’t run with blue and purple feet. 

“Two weeks isn’t that long ago,” But two weeks wasn’t when he decided. Two weeks ago was when he confirmed it - confirmed that he would do anything to please his Queen, the person who took him in when he had no one - when he had lost everyone. And this - this wasn’t a loss - it was a gain. A gain, of another at his side. 

Finn shook his head, heaving a sigh,  “Just tell me, tell me you’re not just doing this for the agreement.” 

Was it the agreement why he was doing this? Yes, the troops the neighboring planet of Shar could give could end the war, the relief from supplies could stop millions from starving, and the bloodshed, the one that had stained his hands for all too long, could stop. He could finally stop — stop waking up in cold sweats from the images of broken children haunting him, the ghosts of families poking and prodding at his subconscious, until he begged for mercy. It could stop. 

An offer like this didn't come around twice. Except that it did — and she had said no. 

His Queen. 

Queen Leia Organa, his mother by all intents and circumstances, received an offer for an alliance a long time ago, and all that was needed was a hand in marriage - and since Ben's hand was already promised - it only left him. It was considered and mulled over and examined time and time again. The Queen couldn't deny the offer was favorable — especially with forces stirring, plotting, scheming in the background. But in the foreground was her son. Barely old enough to read, much less decide on an offer of marriage. She said no, because at that time, she had the choice. 

But this time, she didn’t. And neither did he. 

“I’m not just doing it for the agreement,” he intoned, mustering up a small smile, “Even if I am, as my advisor, shouldn’t you be trying to make sure I go through it?” 

He saw Finn frown at him in the mirror,  “As your advisor, I’m trying to assure you aren’t making a rash decision,” he paused, before adding, “and as your friend, I’m trying to make sure you’re not being a kriffing idiot.” 

“According to you and Rey, aren’t I always?” he laughs, but it echoes hollowly in his chest, and for a moment he allows himself to feel the weight of his decision - he would spend his life with a stranger. Would they grow used to each other? Would they hate each other? Or worst of all, would they mean nothing to each other? And then the counterbalance weighed in - the war, the shortages, and his mother. He turns to face Finn, “I know it’s the right decision.” 

“How do you know?” 

He only smiles, “Because Queen Organa wouldn’t have agreed to it otherwise.” And he hopes that’s true, hopes it’s enough. 

“We should get going,” Finn says, but his words don’t register. Not really. Instead, Poe stares out the window, and nearly just out of sight, the very tip of the pavement of the landing strip peeked through, the end of an x-wing barely visible. It would be so easy. Too easy to sneak out of here, feet pounding down the pavement, slipping past every guard, until it was too late to stop him. His head against the rest of the pilot’s seat, thrum of the engine buzzing in his ears, and he would be gone. He would fly somewhere, anywhere he did not have to be responsible for the lives of so many people, somewhere he did not have to follow his duty — somewhere he just could take care of himself. Instead of everyone else. 

Finn claps him on his shoulder, and he's ejected from his fantasy, “Hey, you okay?" And a small voice nags at the back of his head, after the war, after the war, after the war. Maybe things could be different - maybe he could be free. Things change. People too. As do commitments to treaties. Alliances fall and rise with only the flick of a royal’s finger, and why couldn’t his life too? “We can’t be late, it’s your wedding after all.” 

Then why, he thought as he steeled himself, pushing himself to take one step after the other, why did it feel like my funeral? 

~~~~

The march from his quarters to the hall was a lengthy one. One in which every doubt rears its unwelcome ugly head again, whatever seemingly committed front he had put up to Finn shattered in its wake. Now his eyes just looked for exits. Whatever instilled duty and steadiness he had long abandoned him as he left his room, now leaving only with traitorous thoughts and antsiness in his fingers. But eyes — eyes were watching him. Even now as he walked towards where the procession was waiting for his arrival, he felt the gazes of every guard he passed, every servant, every nobleman fall upon him with smiles and well wishes. And imagine what those smiles would be if they could hear his actual thoughts? How quickly those smiles would turn to scorn at his own selfishness? How fast those well wishes would turn to hissed sneers? The math was simple. A single hand to save many. A choice with only one right option. But why did he want the wrong one? 

But why was it wrong? Why was it wrong to want to want to have a choice? Why was it so wrong to want to choose who to love? 

It wasn’t wrong, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he spotted the procession standing at attention, the colors of the Resistance in full thrust, he just didn’t have a choice. 

Or rather he did. His family and his planet or a chance at an unknowable future. 

He gave Finn a nod, before facing the procession, striding forward to take his place. And he would choose his people - every time. 

~~~

“Add more color to her lips,” The Empress of Shar ordered sharply, smoothing her tone over with a saccharine smile that only assured you that this servant would be fired by the end of day, “We want her husband to be completely enraptured by her — anything less will not be tolerated.” Or perhaps, it would be something worse than a simple dismissal.

Instead, your eyes remained concentrated on the delicate designs that had been drawn on the backs of your hand, patterns of vines and leaves intertwined around each other, bound in the same fate. These same hands that saw battle, bruised and battered and bloodied, were now dressed up in rings and bracelets, drawing eyes to the designs that adorned your skin. And while these tattoos were ephemeral, the passage of time scrubbing them from your hands, the ceremony they represented were not. 

That knowledge weighed on you, heavier than the weight of your wedding clothes against your body. Your mother had you dressed before dawn had broken, and even your muscles nearly buckled under the weight, the clothes embroidered to the point of absurdity. And now in the sunlight, you could see it clearly, ornate designs painstakingly stitched into shimmering waves and complicated lattices upon the ivory fabric. You resisted the urge to finger the designs, knowing your mother would lose her mind if even a single bead was out of place. 

The fingers of the servants tugged and pulled on the strands of your hair into an intricate braid, weaving ribbons, golden thread, and flowers into the complicated knots. You bit your tongue as they yanked particularly hard. Complaining would only incite the Empress’s wrath - and you didn’t wish that upon even your worst enemies. 

The Empress of Shar left no enemies behind. And those she did, she left with their heads on a pike. It was in the name of duty. That's what she told you, anyway. 

"Duty first, mercy second," and you learned quite quickly that mercy often didn't come. If ever. Mercy was reserved for only those situations where the Empress had something to gain — and was assured she had nothing to lose. And your wedding was one of them. It would have been all too simple to storm the planet of D’qar, beaten into submission after attack upon attack by their enemies. All it would have taken was one unit — the im’petis —  the force users and their army would have been razed to the ground. But war is messy. War never ends. Even when all said and done, the seeds of revenge fester in the crevices and cracks of a broken kingdom, until blooming into swathes of rebellion. Too many warm bodies lost. Too much wasted time. 

No, it was better - better to forge an alliance, quell any hint of impropriety, instead two planets become one kingdom. And D’qar and the Resistance gain the support of Shar’s vast resources, while Shar’s gains the aid of their technology. The only cost? Your freedom. 

Or your hand in marriage. All the same to you. 

You couldn’t run. You couldn’t escape. It was a choice of your family or your life. 

And you choose your family. Always. 

“Now, it is time for you to meet your husband,” The Empress waves the servants away, and as quickly as they came, they disappear through the double doors, “We will bring you out. The ceremony will be performed separately at first, and then you will be brought before each other as husband and wife,” her lips curl into a smile, “and darling, this must go well, for both our sakes.” 

“Yes, I understand,” she raises a brow, “my Empress.” 

She nods, “Your ladies in waiting will escort you to the procession, and then you and Poe will live on this planet for a time, before returning to Shar. I expect to hear from you, at the end of every month. Especially before your return to Shar."

You would spend a few months on D'qar, here, as the kingdom prepares for the transfer of power from Queen Organa to Prince Ben." 

“Yes,” your throat tight, you give another nod, “I understand.” 

“I imagine you will have little trouble. The prince is flighty - weak minded and eager, in both romantic and unromantic pursuits,” she stops in front of you, staring, and you wonder if she can see the weakness in your heart, every thought in your mind telling you to run now, to refuse. But she says nothing, only winding a curl framing your face around her finger, tugging on it harshly, a thread of pain running through your head, “but may I remind of the stakes of this. All of Shar is relying on you, as is your mother. Do not forget your place.” 

She lets go and the curl bounces back into place, as she turns to leave, her hand pausing on the door handle, “And don’t forget,” she smiles at you warmly, which only makes your blood run colder, “you two fell in love on a diplomatic mission, and now are being wed,” a ploy - to garner support from the public - it was far better in the eyes of the simple folk to marry for love rather than power. Love sells after all, “So don’t forget to smile at your betrothed - you are in love with him after all.” 

The door closes with a click. Yes. Love. Of course. 

No tears well in your eyes nor do you scream. You sit there, staring at your luggage. You had been flown to D’qar night before last. The air was lighter here —  less humid, somehow sweeter than the aridity on Shar. But now, it felt strangling. You rose, bracelets clanging against your wrists, lifting your skirt as you strided forward. You unzipped one of the bags, stuffed with gowns and dress shirts alike, the material heavy as your arm waded through the sea of silk, until your fingers found the false bottom to the bag. Your fingers snaked through the opening, until they closed around what you sought. You pulled the lightsaber from the bag, staring at the intricate design of the hilt, its weight a comfort in your hands. Only days ago you had spent cutting down Shar’s enemies, and now - you would do it again. 

Only this time — there was a knock at the door, and you buried the saber as quickly as you could in the luggage — the deaths would not be on the battlefield, they would be in a palace. 

~~~~

Poe’s stomach twisted. He did not like this. 

A thousand eyes watched him atop the platform set up by both the people of D’qar and Shar alike. All of whom were watching him now as he sat - trying not to fidget in his throne. Drapes of colors of both kingdoms hung - some separately and others in unison, representing the merging of the two planets and of this union. And they hung all around the stage as well, a barrier from the public’s eyes - but only barely - as he could spot their eager eyes between the parting of the banners. 

He did not like this at all. 

A lone soul, his stomach lurching as he waited for the ceremony to begin. A million eyes on him, and not a soul he knew beside him. He wished Finn or Rey - someone could have joined him. He resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut - at least the Queen. But they were following Shar's traditions, down to the dotted line - part of the agreement. 

A neutral expression would suffice instead of a smile, hoping he appeared to be an anxious groom rather than a miserable prince. The officiant would be joining him soon enough, but it did not make him feel any less lonely by himself. Usually, the men of the bride and groom would join the soon to be husband, but - his stomach twisted again - neither of them were around were they? The one thing he knew that he shared with you - the lack of a father, or perhaps the fleeting memory of one. More a ghost than anything now. 

The corners of his eyes stinged, nails digging into his palms, the nagging thought in the back of his head wrenched to the forefront: what would he think of his son? Marrying a stranger he had never met. Would he be proud of his dedication to the kingdom he had lost his life for? Or would he want something more for him? Something like he and his mom had. 

The chatter outside grew, and he readied himself for the officiant. But did it even matter? He was alone in the end - in life and in marriage. 

“You look quite sad for a man on his wedding day,” his head snapped to attention, as he moved to get up, but his Queen waved him off, “It is your wedding day, you need not rise for me.” 

“But don’t I always anyway, Your Majesty?” he gave a weak smile, rising to his feet as she sat, wrinkling her nose at his formality, but holding her tongue (knowing he would use her title anyway), “How many Sharians heads’ did you have to bite off to allow you to be here?” 

The corner of her mouth twitched, “Only one. And I did not bite anyone’s head off - I only had to ask, and made it clear to the Empress I was only going to ask once to be at my son’s side during his wedding.” 

Son, his throat tightened, swallowing the feelings that rose with that word - the word that wasn’t a word, but so much more - it was the very reason he had agreed to this. More than the scorn, the hatred he would engender, maybe even the crushing guilt of the lives lost - or maybe he couldn’t — but he knew only for certain: that he couldn’t bear the thought of his mother being disappointed in him. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says quietly, and she looks over, lips curled in a smile now. 

She raises a brow, “No remarks to be made?” 

Poe looked to the audience as all rose for the approaching officiant, and he knew he wouldn’t run - not because he couldn’t - but because he could live with marrying someone he didn’t know, but he couldn’t live without his home. 

~~~

You didn’t want to have this ceremony. You liked the beauty of it all, the elegance, but only from an outsider’s perspective. Not when you were the one sitting like a shyyyo bird in a cage. You hated all the eyes on you — dressed in bright plumage to draw their gazes, as they watched you take part in this forced mating ritual. 

Maker, it was your wedding day and all you want to do is take a nap. Especially as the officiant's droning voice led you through the vows, you felt your mind wane, though you kept the outer mask of a bride carefully stitched into your features. Even so, you doubted they could see your face through the thick veil of flowers tied around your head, the string digging into your skull. Even through the thick perfume of flowers, sweet and heady, you could smell the distant aroma of dinner - savory and ambrosial - stewing in pots and warming until this ceremony was over. You almost didn’t care if your stomach growled - after fourteen hours in this outfit and being poked and prodded and watched - you were ready to eat. 

And it would be soon enough - as the vows came to an end, with only a word of affirmation needed from the groom and from you. A comlink hooked up to project sound throughout the building - as one was offered to you and most assuredly to him, as so everyone could hear you affirm your love for one another. And it occurred to you, this would be the first time you heard his voice. Curiosity edged in at the corners of your mind - what would his voice be like? Would it be gruff and low? Would it be smooth and dulcet? Would it be pompous and orotund? 

It was one Sharian phrase, but you repeated the word over and over in your head - knowing that a second of hesitation (or Maker forbid a mispronunciation) would look suspicious. 

You hear the officiant ask, “Hal’e turbi hayatak bihah?” Do you bind your life to hers? 

“Nam 'uqad hayati,” Yes, I bind my life to hers. The Shar words rolled off his tongue with clumsy vowels and exaggerated consonants. You had no expectations, and yet his voice was different than you expected. It was neither gruff nor pompous, you supposed it could be smooth or dulcet, but it was still something more than that - and you realized, it was the conviction in his tone. 

For Sharians, arranged marriages were second nature - a tried and true practice that made for marriages that would last a lifetime, most by choice, but others by obligation. You thought nothing of it - it was the same risk anyone took when marrying for love, and the same traps that anyone could fall into in a bad marriage. But for D’qar? Their people have married for love almost as long as they have existed. Even Prince Ben, whose hand had been promised to another, it was because he had fallen for another. So for the precious prince, it couldn’t have been easy to agree to this. And yet, he seemed sure - that it gave you pause - when was the last time you had been so sure of anything? 

You weren’t even sure when you had agreed to this - though it wasn’t like you were given much of a choice. You were perfect after all - the perfect stand in for the princess, one that didn’t exist. There was never a choice that was yours after you agreed to join the Sharian Guard - and even that was a choice between certain death and indentured servitude. 

“Hal’e turbi hayatak biha?” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, all hope of running dissipating, as you feel the Empress’s gaze on you, “Nam 'uqad hayati.” 

The crowd cheers in time with the band, the low notes a quiet boom in the background, as you and your groom rise from your chairs and are led down the steps of your individual stages — you by the Empress and him by his mother. Other instruments join in with each delicate step you take, building to an inevitable crescendo when the two of you finally see each other for the first time. 

The first time. 

Your throat is dry, and swallowing does nothing to soothe the very much throbbing heart tangled in your vocal cords. You realize that he’s before you when the Empress’s guiding hand stops, drifting away from your shoulder. Thousands of eyes pierce you from every side, your knees threatening to knock together, but you will them to be still. Princesses of Shar did not shake — but of course, you thought mournfully, you were not one. 

“Please lift the veil and allow your eyes to meet your betrothed,” the officiant orders. 

Gentle fingers part your flowered veil, lifting it over your head. You blink. 

Brown. That’s the first thing you notice when you see them. They were a softer brown than expected. You had heard the rumors about the prince — about his thrill seeking as a pilot and his disregard for the rules (authorizing an attack the Queen had explicitly objected to). You expected more fire, more darkness, and it was there — but there was something more you couldn't place. His eyes blinked as he saw you too, his lips parting, a gentle gaze caressing your face, instead of raking down its sides. His brow only ruffled for a moment, before he smiled  Lips pulled wide into a smile and that's when you remembered — oh yes. You were supposed to be in love. 

You match him in time, chiseling your expression into a shy gaze, a smile tugging at your lips. And his hand found yours easily, his fingers intertwining with his to face the crowd. Even as your stomach stuck to the soles of your feet, why was it that, even with a thousand eyes piercing you, you couldn't help but stare at him? 

~~~

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[jksofficialwifey]

Kiss me, Heal me. 3

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: When Jungkook gets injured just before an important game, he sets out to find his soulmate to heal him. In a world where soulmates can heal all kinds of illnesses by kissing, he’s desperate to find his, even if he doesn’t know you yet. What happens if he does find you? Will you kiss a stranger who claims to be your soulmate?

WC: 3k+

Warnings: Smut but it's not who you think it is, Infidelity- but jk has a shitty gf n it's mutual lol, snarky oc at the end.

tags: idiots and enemies to lovers, a lil slowburn, a bit of angst, soulmate culture, smut in the future.

A/N: this is unedited as always so sowee 👅💋 hope ya still like it tho! enjoy loves. :)

pls don’t repost my fic anywhere, if i ever find out you stole my fic idea you’ll regret it. thanks :)

You still couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. Though it was a week ago, and you've been avoiding Jungkook like he had the plague. Also, he went home awkwardly last week after that happened. You wondered if it meant something to him? To you? Of course it meant something to you, you were in-like with him. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, mayhaps you liked him. It really didn't help that you felt like heaven when he kissed you. It kinda makes you think if you were just meant to be healing soulmates and not romantic soulmates. And then there's his girlfriend too, they haven't broken up yet and what if she finds out you kissed his boyfriend? Would that make you a slut? Are you really a slut now? Ugh, maybe you are for Jungkook that is. But no. You should just forget about it, Jungkook doesn't seem like he'll leave his girlfriend for someone like you anyway. Even though you heard they were almost fighting everyday. Your best friend Charlie told you so, of course she asked how last week went and of course you cursed her for making Jungkook scheme with her against you.

But, you also told her about the kiss which she happily squealed when she found out, shipping you both. And then she proceeded to tell you about Jungkook's chaos in paradise. Why did he even kiss you? He's just making you overthink stuff, and it isn't even nighttime yet. Did he just want to help and heal you? Or was it something more? It doesn't matter you kept saying, but maybe you were just trying to convince yourself otherwise.

You went to the library to distract yourself and read some books, and of course like every cliché romance novel- (tho the romance part isn't really true) the person you were avoiding was there. Jungkook and his long curly hair that you hate. Why did he have to be so damn godlike all the time? He was in a casual polo shirt tucked in inside his pants, maybe he didn't have soccer practice today. And he looked so good you were trying not to get wet just staring at him. Maybe he noticed you were ogling him so he decided to stare at you back. But you were still embarrassed and you didn't know how to act around him now, so you went to the back aisle of the library. Not acknowledging that he was calling your name. He didn't let you go though, as he went after you to make your suffering even worse.

"Y/N, hey are you avoiding me?" he suddenly asked. You pretended to be busy reading the book you were holding, just so you didn't have to stare at his handsome face. "Oh. Hey Jungkook, of course I'm not. I'm just busy trying to catch up with school and stuff. Why'd you think so?" you replied indifferently. "You didn't listen to me when I called your name awhile ago, and I haven't seen you around campus so I thought maybe you were avoiding me. Aren't you really?" He said as he moved towards you, making you feel queasy.

"I really am not. I just didn't hear you awhile ago, and besides the whole campus is pretty big maybe we just didn't notice each other." you simply fibbed. "Okay, whatever you say. I just wanted to know how are you feeling btw? Are you feeling better now after we… kissed?" you can't believe his cocky ass would really bring up the kiss. Fck him. "I'm spectacular if you must know. And can we not bring that up ever again please? It doesn't matter anyway." you retorted sarcastically.

"Why not? Are you mad at me because I kissed you? Or are you mad because you loved it?" he said as he moved closer to you trapping you within the shelves. You couldn't breathe but it was also like you didn't care, you wanted him close to you even if you felt like dying inside too. When you finally looked at him in the eye, you weren't surprised that he was staring at you with that playful but concerned look you kinda liked. "Don't be so full of yourself, I only liked it because it healed me. There's no other reason." You tried to shove him off and get away, but he held unto you and placed his hands on your hips. "If that's true, then why can't you look at me more than a minute longer and why are you running away baby?" he whispered into your ear seductively. He then moved to look at your face, and then at your lips. Seemingly wanting to taste them again. And you wanted to taste his too, you remembered how you got almost addicted to his lips the first time you kissed. He leaned in closer and you suddenly remembered you didn't even answer his question yet. But you think you did now as you were kissing him. The kiss didn't last long as you remembered his girlfriend Chaeyoung. It was unfair to her and what if she caught you? You were almost making out with her boyfriend again. The thought was enough to make you pull away from Jungkook, leaving him a little confused.

"Why did you pull away? You can't lie to me, I know you liked kissing me too."

"Yes, maybe I did Jungkook. But it's wrong. You have a girlfriend Jungkook, what are you thinking? What about chaeyoung? Don't you care about what she'd feel?" you reasoned. "I know that, you don't have to remind me. But you're my soulmate Y/N, she's just my girlfriend. And I don't even know what I feel about her anymore, but when I kiss you I don't think about anything or anyone else."

"But we can't do this Jungkook. I can't allow you to cheat on her with me, and I can't allow you to use me while you figure out what you really feel about her. It isn't healthy for the both of us."

"I know baby, I'm sorry. I'm not using you to figure out my feelings for her or forget her, I don't know what it is yet but I feel so good when I'm with you. Can't we just forget about everything for a little while and just let it be?" he said as he cupped your cheeks with his hands. "I don't know Kook, I don't think I can forget that you're with someone else and fool around with you. If things aren't working out for the both of you, why don't you talk it out or break up?"

"It's not that easy to just talk it out with her… and I can't break up with her…" (just yet) Jungkook wanted to add.

"Well what are you planning to do? And what do you want me to do Kook? I don't wanna be the other woman. You surely don't think we'll just mess around while you're still with her?"

"I can't let her go just yet Y/N. I need to think more. But I can't let you go too. You're my soulmate, pls don't give up on me. I just need time to figure things out." Jungkook said dejectedly. "I'll wait for you Kook, I just hope you can make the right decision. Also, It's not like I can avoid you forever. But, maybe it's best if we just stay friends for now. Like friends with no funny business or benefits." You said meaning it seriously but the last part jokingly. Trying to make the mood a little better.

"That's okay with me I guess. Well friend, promise you won't avoid me now?" He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"Promise. Just don't try to do illegal things to me." You joked. "Okay! Hmm, so you wanna go eat icecream with me at my fave ice cream shop this time?"

"Are you paying for mine? If you are then who am I to say no."

💜💋

"Babe, you feel so good inside me."

"Of course I do, I have the best pussy and you know that."

"Not to ruin the mood, but what about your boyfriend? What if he catches us here? I heard he's built, I'm not saying I'm scared but you know I hate confrontation." The guy said balls deep inside her. "What about him? He doesn't care about me, he's probably fucking someone else too. But I can't break up with him you know? We've gone through a lot, and even if he neglects me I still want & need him. And you can't blame me for wanting someone to fulfill my needs, when he doesn’t anymore. Don't worry about him catching us, he never comes here unless I tell him to. Jungkook is so obedient, but a lousy boyfriend."

After you both finished your ice creams,( you learned his fave was the cookies and cream flavor,) Jungkook didn't want to go home yet. He suggested to go to the bowling alley at the mall, to teach you how to play bowling, because you mentioned you've never played it before.

"You have to hold it like this. Place your middle and ring finger in the top 2 holes and place your thumb into the bottom hole." he instructed, after a while you were almost getting the hang of it, though Jungkook was still the best because he'd made a 'turkey' already. You found out he loved going bowling with his dad, before they fought about his goals and dreams. It's amazing how athletic he is. He's an amazing soccer player, he's good at bowling, he's an exercise muscle pig, he can probably do anything if he puts his mind to it. Maybe the only thing he can't do is leave his girlfriend for you, or like you. But it's not time for your pity party right now.

After a taxing hell week, Jungkook invited you to have a movie marathon with him as a friend at his place, to relax after the horrid week and hangout.

"What movies are we watching this time Kook?" you asked sitting on his bed comfortably, holding a bag of chips to munch on later as you watched movies. "Hmm, I was thinking we could watch all the Iron man movies, and maybe spiderman after."

"Wow you really like Iron man huh?" you teased smirking a little. "Well yeah, only uncultured swines don't." he retorted.

"I really like how pepper stayed by his side through everything. She's a brilliant woman." Jungkook says sometime during the movie. "Yeah, I haven't really seen all the iron man movies till now but I can say they suit each other well. Pun unintended." you laughed at your silly thought, making Jungkook smile too.

You were focusing on the movie when you realized Jungkook's attention wasn't fully on the movie, instead it was at you. He was staring at you and he wasn't even being subtle about it. "Hey creep, why are you staring? You're not planning to murder me are you?" You joked. "I'm not a creep and I'm not planning to murder you, I was just admiring the view." You felt a blush forming in your cheeks at his words. Did he mean he was admiring you? That you were the view? The view isn't even that beautiful though, you thought insecure.

"Stop joking around Kook." you told him shrugging him off. "I'm not though, but I'll stop. Wouldn't want you falling for me even more." He cockily remarked. You knew he was joking but you couldn't help but get pissed a little by his joke. It was like he was trying to rile you up and for what? You couldn't do anything with him. You shouldn't, besides you already had an agreement. "As if Kook, keep dreaming."

"I'll keep dreaming of you then."

"Shut up or I'm really gonna get mad now."

"Okay, okay. I was just teasing babe don't be mad, I'm sorry."

"Let's just continue watching the movie okay?"

"Yeah, of course." he said awkwardly.

💜

You were out buying something at the store when you saw someone familiar passing by. Was that Chaeyoung? Jungkook's girlfriend? After taking the items you bought you followed her, as you were curious if Jungkook was with her at the mall too. But to your surprise she entered a resto, and the guy waiting for her wasn't Jungkook. It was some guy you didn't know but they looked kinda close if you must say. Thinking he was just a friend, you were about to go on your way when you saw at the corner of your eye that they were a little too close to be just friends. She fed him some food and they were sweet with each other. An ugly thought geared in your head. She wasn't cheating on Jungkook wasn't she? But if she were then it would be so unfair to him.

You had the sudden urge to ask her what she was doing when you realized it wasn't your place and your business to butt in. You also remembered that you kissed his boyfriend so you were conflicted. Isn't it hypocritical to hate her for possibly cheating on Jungkook, when Jungkook kinda did the same? Their relationship is kinda fucked up if you think about it, and you don't want to be a part of it. But how can you not be affected when you've already sinned with your soulmate. You decided to go home instead of snitching her to Jungkook, as you thought it wasn't the right time yet. Also, you needed more proof and to know the truth if she really was doing it.

You were back again at Jungkook's place to do a project for school, as the universe decided to make you partners for this class project. Maybe it's the soulmate effect, ew. You should stop being delulu, you thought. You weren't gonna lie and say you don't enjoy spending time with Jungkook though, He was always so adorable and kind. Except for times when his cockiness gets the best of him, he was enjoyable to be around with. "So, which part do you wanna do first?" you asked. "Hmm, maybe the easy one first?" you laughed a little, of course he'd choose the easy part to do. "Okay. You'll do the vocabulary part and I'll do the introduction summary for now." You stated. He agreed and you both proceeded to do the project, chatting occasionally to ask some questions about it. You just finished your tasks for today, when Jungkook decided to make a dad joke and it was actually a good one- or maybe you're just lame that's why you found it so funny that you had tears in the corner of your eyes from laughing so much. Someone decided to knock on his door interrupting your crack fiasco, and you remembered to get yourself together and stop giggling like a crackhead.

"Chaeyoung? Why are you here?" Jungkook said as soon as he opened his door, his girlfriend appearing in front of him. "Because you weren't answering your phone Kook, and now I see why." She retorted, looking at you accusingly. She had put weird extensions on her hair, making her look quite ratchet. But her outfit was kinda nice, it was slutty like her. "Well Y/N's here because we're doing a school project, it's not what you're thinking Chae."

"And what am I thinking Kook? Care to tell me how you know what's on my mind?" she said sarcastically. "I'm just saying the stupid things you're thinking aren't real, babe." Chaeyoung got angry at his statement. "Are you saying I'm stupid Jungkook? How dare you!" she screamed.

"I never said that, you're the one who said it. Are we really gonna fight right now again? Because I don't have the time or energy for it. So can we do it some other time? Not right now when Y/N's here." Instead of being ashamed, the things Jungkook said just seemed to rile up his girlfriend more. "And so fcking what if she's here Kook? I don't care about her, and you shouldn't too. Your business with her is done! You shouldn't be meeting up with her anymore, but look at you hoeing around behind my back." You wanted to defend Jungkook, but you remembered that you did kiss him and that made you feel a little guilty. Though, you agreed to be just friends right now. "I'm not hoeing around Chaeyoung! Stop accusing me of doing things I'm not doing. I care about Y/N because she's my soulmate, and you should respect her as a person if you can't respect us being connected in each other's lives." Jungkook retorted right back at her. "If you're not playing around then why do I feel like you are Kook? A woman's instincts are never wrong. You've been cold to me. And whenever we talk, we just fight. Is it really crazy for me to think that it's because you want something or someone new?" she cried crocodile tears.

"I'm sorry if you feel that way, but It's not wholly my fault. You always seem to find mistakes in me and accuse me of stupid shit I didn't do, that's why we're always fighting. You say I never communicate, but when I try to- you're the one who doesn't listen to me. I don't even know what to do with you anymore Chae. I don't know what to do with us." Jungkook sighed, quite exhausted with the whole conversation they're having. It was so awkward for you to witness them fighting, that you wanted to get out of the room already. So you told Jungkook you were leaving.

"Kook, I'm sorry to butt-in but maybe I should leave now? We're almost done with the project anyway." Jungkook was about to reply and escort you out, but his girlfriend chimed in. "You really only thought to leave now? When you could've done that ages ago? Come to think of it, it's your fault why we're fighting again. You're an annoying little slut." Jungkook was embarrassed and bummed at his girlfriend for insulting you like that, she was being paranoid and a bitch. You decided not to mind her and say anything, even though her bitch ass was really getting into your nerves. "Chaeyoung shut up!" he told her.

"No. Why should I shut up when it's true? It's her fcking fault for being such a flirty whore trying to steal you away from me! You're not even gonna deny it are you?" You couldn't help but answer her as you couldn't take the bullshit she was spouting anymore. "I don't usually respond to background noise and nonsense people, but since you wanted my attention so badly- I'm gonna tell you this. I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, so please get out of your imagination now, It's not healthy." You retorted snarkily. You were about to get out of the door, but you couldn't help but tell her one last thing before you go,

"And before you call me a whore, make sure you're not one."

And you coolly went out of the door and walked away from them, leaving poor slutty Chaeyoung stunned.

TBC. 💜

If you enjoyed reading this and u wanna help a broke gal buy some food to eat during this pandemic, my kofi is: https://ko-fi.com/neinyajung U can buy me a coffee for $3, only if you want to ofc! I totes understand if u can't. Even just reblogging this chapter would make me happy :)

Also, positive feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! your comments are what inspires us writers to write more! so pls tell me what u liked about the story, so I'll be inspired to write and give you fast updates.

If you wanna be added on the taglist Reblog and comment on this chapter to be invited on the gc! ty 💜 my taglist is on the Kiss me Heal me tumblr groupchat as it's easier to notify people there.