#there's too many rats on this blog oh god

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - four

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: cursing, violence, weapons

word count: 3k

A/N: Bucky gets darker the next few parts so I’m warning y’all now and no one gets surprised. I’ll add a ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️warning in the parings as well as the warnings.

three | series masterlist

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

John is sewing up Victoria’s hand as she grimaces and swallows the entire bottle of Vodka in one gulp. Niklaus, on the other hand, is frantically pacing the room, wearing ruts into the floor. John tries to get him to stop or slow down even but he refuses. 

“We’re fucked, absolutely fucked,” he mummers under his breath. 

Victoria practically growls as John pulls at the stitches to tie them off before snapping at her brother, “Of course we are. We let that bastard take Y/N.”

John looks to Niklaus nervously and then back to Victoria. 

“Oh my god, what did you two idiots do?” “Nothing, we did nothing,” Niklaus snaps back at her. 

“No, you did something. Tell me or I’ll throw you both through the window.”

John spills almost instantly, “Klaus made a deal with him last year.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she shrieks. 

Niklaus rushes over to her and quickly puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, “Shut up for the love of god. I’ll tell you if you promise to not say anything. Brock is literally down the hall.”

She nods and he starts in with the tale of how he might have royally fucked up. 

About a year and half ago, Brock caught him and another man together and beat Niklaus to a pulp. He had been laid up in the hospital for weeks and needed routine visits afterward from the injuries he sustained. In addition to being beaten within an inch of his life, Brock had threatened to kill them if he ever caught them again. That had been the final nail in the coffin for Niklaus; after years of enduring the torture that his father put him and his siblings through, he made the decision to get rid of him once and for all.

The most natural choice was the White Wolf.

He was feared across the East Coast and was gaining power rapidly. He threatened Brock’s authority in New York and it made him nervous, sketchy, and scared. Niklaus arranged a meeting with Steve, his community liaison, and set the plan in motion however it all crumbled when Brock caught wind of a rat amongst his ranks. He had Niklaus and John execute too many innocent men and he even made a move on the White Wolf’s men. He’d murdered Tony Stark, one of the White Wolf’s close friends and advisors, setting forth a domino effect of violence. He retailed as one would and with Y/N being dragged back in, it complicated things. Niklaus tried to uncomplicate it and remove her from the equation with the planned ambush at the party but he never expected that she would willingly take the deal. Hoping that she was still the stubborn teen she had been, he’d hoped that the White Wolf would have to take her against her will and keep her locked away until it was all over with. 

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met,” Victoria says with an equal amount of shock and annoyance, “Why didn’t tell me before? I could’ve helped you plan something better.”

“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt if it all went south. I figured I could take the brunt of it while John got you to safety.”

Victoria scoffs, “So a suicide mission?”

“No.”

“Yes! You know him better than anyone. He will tear you apart limb by limb, sew you back up and do it again until he gets bored. And even then he’ll find a new way to entertain himself.”

John makes a disgruntled noise at all of her moving and says, “But if Brock’s dead, it’s all worth it.”

“No it isn’t John! You’ve been friends since birth practically and you’re seriously suggesting that him being dead is for the best? Klaus,” she pleads with her brother, “we have to find another way. Call him and find another way. Please, I can’t lose you.”

“There’s no other way. Either the White Wolf kills Brock before he can get to me or I try my hand at it and our father kills me.”

Her eyebrows furrow in pain and sadness as John finishes her hand. The moment he’s done she leaps up and wraps her arms around her brother.

Niklaus grips her back tightly ad if he’s afraid she’ll disappear into thin air and buries his face in her hair.

“You better hope Y/N figured out a better plan.”

He nods against her head.

“I love you, Klaus.”

“I love you too.”

Brock loves to incite fear in everyone around him whether that be with his voice or a violence. He craves to make all those in the same room as him fear for their lives if they so much as breathed wrong and that is especially true with his children. He lives to see the terror that lives in their eyes when they see him or how their bodies go rigid when he walks past them. He wants to see them shutter when he walks too close to them. He wants them to hold their breath until he leaves. He wants them and everyone else to walk on eggshells when he is around. He wants them to fear him in every sense of the word. 

Victoria’s small sniffles piss him off to no degree and he backhands her hard enough that she falls to the ground. Niklaus, ever the loyal son, only flinches at the sound of the impact and does nothing to help his sister. He knows that if he even so much as moved a muscle, he would be next. 

“Can someone please explain to me how the fuck you let that bastard take Y/N?” he growls at them as he rubs the bridge of his nose. 

Victoria climbs to her feet and with hit tears pooling in her eyes, she matches his anger, sneering back at him, “He knew we were going to be there. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You had Y/N. You had every advantage I could’ve given you but somehow you two still fucked it up and killed her in the process.”

Niklaus risks his head and speaks, “She’s not dead. He took her hostage.”

Brock marches up to his son and grips his face in one bone crushing hand as he says, “That’s even worse. He can use her to get to me.”

“Y/N won’t give you up no matter how much she hates you. She wouldn’t risk Victoria and I getting hurt,” Niklaus scoffs and jerks his head away. 

In a flash, Brock whips out a pistol and pushes against his forehead, “You’re useless, you know that? I’ve done nothing but provide for you and give you everything you could ever want. Still you fuck up and prove to me that you’re only ever going to be a thorn in my side. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in you and Victoria.”

Victoria makes a startled gasp and lunges at her brother in efforts to push the gun away but John grabs her and holds one of his own to her temple. She whispers insults under her breath and curses him for being “a fucking traitor and a bastard.” Niklaus looks at her for guidance because he’s a loss for words. There’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t get someone hurt. She shakes her head as much as she can, urging him to not say anything. The one piece of information he can give their father to save them would end with Y/N’s head on a platter but it’s all he has to offer.

“Nik please,” she whispers with even more tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Nik you always have a choice. Don’t do this please. Él la matará.”

He will kill her.

“Don’t speak that shit in my house,” Brock growls at her, “Try again and this time peak English.”

She pleads with her brother again in Spanish, earning another growl but with the gun against both of their heads, he has to do something. Giving away himself would ruin any chance at catching Brock off guard in the future so he goes the only thing he can.

Niklaus tears his eyes away and locks eyes with his father as he utters Y/N’s death sentence, “She made a deal with him; in exchange for our lives, she helps him kill you.”

“Is that so?” Brock asks, cocking his head in amusement before turning to look at Victoria, “I think I might have to send a message to that brat if that’s the case.” One shot. 

And a body drops. 

Steve chooses to grab Y/N by her hair this time, keeping his hand wrapped in her braid so that he has complete control of her. The White Wolf gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t say anything as they walk into a looming and dark house. Matching the exterior, the house is black and sleek with no hint of personality anywhere to be found. It looks very much like a house that a mob boss would buy to launder his money and she assumes that this is the case. 

“Stop gawking,” Steve tells her with a harsh tug of her hair and she hisses at the pain. The White Wolf looks back and motions for Steve to bring her forward. 

Taking her arm in his like a pretend gentleman, he explains that until Brock is dead, she will be staying with him. She’s not to leave and if she does, she needs to have explicit permission from him and a security detail will go with her. Steve smirks when her eyes flicker over to him, indicating that he will be the spearhead of that detail. The White Wolf saying her name brings her attention back to him and continues to explain that the house is hers, she has free reign as long as she stays within its walls. He stops them at a door at the end of a hallway, “This is my office…”

She interrupts him, “And it’s off limits. I know the drill.”

He smiles, looking her up and down while he wets his lips, “Smart girl.”

A part of her shutters in disgust but another…. 

“How much time do you need?”

“What?” she questions, searching his face for any hint of explanation. 

“It’s been six years since you left home so I’m assuming you need some time to figure out a plan. How much time do you need?” 

“You make it seem like I left on good terms,” she mumbles, shrinking under his intense gaze. 

He chuckles, “Sorry, RAN AWAY.”

She sighs and looks around her, “He’s living in one of his old properties so I already know how to get in and out. It really depends on how quickly you can get me what I need.”

“And that is?”

“How do you want it done?” He takes a moment to think about it as he pushes open his office door and leads her inside. Steve closes the door, locking just the two of them inside. The White Wolf pours both of them a glass of whiskey and hands one to her before taking a seat on a massive leather couch. However with him and his overwhelming presence on it, it looks child sized. He motions for her to sit in a chair across from him and she hestiants but he insists. 

“That’s up to you, little snake. You want him to suffer, right?” he asks as he takes a sip, wincing at the blissful feeling of the burn. 

“Don’t turn this on me,” she pauses, realizing that she only knows him by his alias,  “I don’t know your name.”

“My name?” “That’s what I just said.”

He narrows his eyes at her before giving her the answer she seeks, “James.”

“Don’t turn this on me, JAMES. It’s not about what I want, this is about your little fight with him,” she snarks at him, “The only reason why I’m involved is because of opportunity. You saw a chance to get back at him for whatever reason and preyed on me because of my past with him.”

James reclines in his seat, allowing himself to enjoy her anger and admire her in the process. 

“Did he tell you what this is all about?”

“No but I don’t exactly care either. All men have an ego the size of the sun and turn to violence when it gets bruised.”

He chokes on his drink at her appraisal but agrees nonetheless, “Fair enough. So what do you need?”

“I’ll need a Beretta M9A4 with a silencer, an M4, and a set of knives.”

“Strange list, anything else?”

“A getaway car and a driver.”

“I’ll have Sam do it.”

“Hm,” she stops him after taking a sip of her drink, “No, I don’t trust him.”

“I really don’t think trust should be something you’re worrying about right now.”

Y/N slips her heels off and draws her legs onto the chair with her, getting as comfortable as she can to level a bored look at him. James takes in her form as she’s curled into herself and he wets his lips with his tongue. 

“Who do you want then?” 

“Steve.”

A beat passes. 

“Or you.”

He questions her with a smirk as he slides through down into the leather couch. He’s lounging at this point, completely ignoring the fact they’re discussing murder. 

“Me?”

“I don’t trust any of your men and most certainly not you but you wouldn’t do anything to put me in harm’s way if you’re involved.”

His phone rings and he picks it up, eyes never leaving hers, “Hello?”

She can’t make out what the other person is saying but she can tell they’re frantic. James lets out an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes as his head hits the back of the couch, mumbling along as the person on the other side rambles on and on. His attention being off of her gives her the opportunity to really look at him. 

Eyes taking over him, Y/N takes in the way his midnight blue suit compliments his eyes and how his white shirt underneath is unbuttoned in an absurdly attractive manner. Just under his suit jacket is a hint of leather, a holster she assumes given what little she knows of him.  

“He’s not going to do anything and even if he did, I have people close by.”

The sheer dismissive tone brings her back to his face where she locks eyes with him. He must have lifted his head when she wasn’t looking and was most certainly watching her checking him out. She finishes the rest of her drink and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between them. 

“Încetează. Seriously calm down and use your brain, Klaus. He’s not going to do anything stupid. If he did, he would ruin any chance of survival he has. ”

She gives him a questioning look and he winks at her instead of explaining.

When he hangs up, she immediately jumps into her line of questions to which he explains that her brother has been working with him for some time now. 

“Klaus? As in my brother Niklaus? He’s helping you?”

“He came to me last year and asked if I would help him with… some business.”

“Why did you make a deal with me if you already had one with my brother?”

“It never hurts to have multiple options.”

She groans in frustration and rubs at her temples. Of course she would’ve been suckered into some farce of a deal by a shady businessman. The temptation to throw something at him becomes too strong and she hurls one of her heels at him. It misses and clatters to the ground behind him to which he chuckles at and gets to his feet. His shoes scuffle the floor as he pours himself another glass. Rather than sitting back in his original place, James rounds the coffee table and sits in front of her on it. 

“Brock would see it coming if I had Klaus do it regardless of how good your brother thinks he is. You, on the other hand,” he starts, pointing at her, “are the perfect option. He still has hope that you’ll find it in your heart to love daddy again so you still have a chance to gain his trust hence why I brought you here. Taking you away from him builds the tension, makes him sweat, makes him vulnerable and reckless. It puts him in the perfect position for me to release you back to him and boom my Rumlow problem is gone.”

“You still haven’t told me what he did.”

James leans forward so he’s invading her space, “It didn’t seem important a minute ago.”

Y/N matches him and leans forward too, “Well it is now. What did he do?”

“He killed a very good friend of mine.”

“You have friends?” She laughs at him and before she can stop him, he grips her braid again and pulls her off the chair and onto the ground before him. 

He yanks her towards him and whispers in her ear, “Learn when to stop, little snake. It’s unbecoming of you.” 

She glares him with all the hatred she feels for men like him but it flatters when his eyes flicker from hers to her lips parted due to the pain in her scalp.

"You look good on your knees for me," he lets spill out before releasing her.

She knows that he meant for it to come out but nonetheless she throws herself back as far as she can to get away from him. James, the flirty and seemingly harmless man is gone and in his place the White Wolf reemerges. He smirks at her desperate attempt to put space between them and winks at her again, this time making her body revolt at the gesture. Standing, he leaves the room without another word to her. 

Whatever safety and trust she hoped to gain tonight is gone the moment he closes that door. 

She’s alone. 

Completely and utterly alone.

[jetiisyandereclones]

I like the premise of this blog. How about some Wolffe, Comet and Boost being awfully soft and protective of their favorite communications officer who always takes the time to listen and treats them kindly?

Willow and Windchimes

YanderePoly!Wolfpack x Reader ( no clonecest)

The wolfpack fall hard and fast for a pretty communications officer after being harassed by her assistance dog.

Notes: reader has and alert dog to warn her of low blood sugar. I will not go into detail about her condition, only that it is genetic and can make her dizzy and in extreme cases cause seizures

She was fucked.

How had this happened. One moment she had been on the way back to her flagship from her leave on Naboo, next thing she knew she was being lifted god knows how many feet into the air, heading back towards General Koon’s flagship.

She could almost hear her mothers voice.

‘Your too kind, Y/N. Nothing good ever comes with being too nice to anyone’

In Y/N’s defence, being a raging psychopath had never gotten her mother very far either.

Still. Y/N believed that if she had shown a little more spine and put her foot down when their attention became uncomfortable, this would not be happening.

She could remember the day she met them. ‘Them’ being the notorious Wolfpack, a squad led by General Koon’s Commander, Wolfe. A short tempered clone, who, although very competent, was not the easiest man for most to have to interact with.

Y/N could remember the day they met clear as crystal. It had been a rough one. It wasn’t too long after a scuffle with the Separatists and there were communications coming in every second. The com tower had been targeted specifically and while not entirely successful, the Seppies did manage to damage it and make all two way communications nearly impossible.

So while the techies desperately got to work trying to make the physical repairs to the tower, the com officers had to try every trick in the book to get a discernible two way signal. The chaos and work rush had left her unable to eat anything, bringing her blood sugar dangerously low. Her loyal companion, Willow, had been alerting her for an hour now. Bringing her bottle after bottle of juice, that were left to the side of her work station, his nose bops to the thigh getting more and more aggressive. Y/N thought she might bruise.

Having realised that she was not listening to his alerts, Willow started to get more intense with his warnings. Pawing and jumping up onto her lap, trying to get her attention.

All this action had startled the silver tabby tooka on Willows back.

Windchimes, while not technically a medical service animal was overlooked on board by the General, as she not only helped keep Willow calm, but raised moral amongst the crew. Plus the kitchens loved her, the rat and mouse population had never been so easily controlled.

With a decent signal finally sent out, Y/N could finally spare a moment to realise how dizzy and tired she felt, and saw all the juices she had carelessly ignored, her companions watching her intently.

Y/N went to open one of her juices and had just taken a gulp when Willow and Windchimes took off. She didn’t pay it any mind. Sometimes Willow was too good at his job and picked up on the low blood sugar of the crew. None of them seemed to mind too much.

Having finished her drink and gone back to work, Y/N hadn’t noticed that it had been several hours since her dog and tooka had disappeared, the juice bottles on the side of her desk empty.

The yell of commander Wolffe brought her to attention.

“WHO'S DOG IS THIS!?”

‘Oh no’ Y/N thought as she went to retrieve her friends.

She didn’t like conflict in the best of times, with the gentlest of people, but Commander Wolffe scared her. She definitely did not want to get on his radar. Not for her companions harassing him.

When she found the Commander by the mess, she couldn’t help but huff a disbelieving laugh out.

Her dog, with the tooka riding his back, had cornered the Commander by the staff fridge and was currently doing his best to lick his helmet off. Apparently the commander had low blood sugar and Willow had had enough of being ignored.

‘I’m so fired’ Y/N thought hysterically as she passed three snickering clones on the way to retrieve her wayward dog, and his encouraging passenger.

Y/N grabbed the large dog by his harness, Windchimes jumping from his back to her shoulder.

Heaving the determined willow off, Y/N desperately tried to explain herself.

“Commander wolffe sir, I’m so sorry. Willow’s not usually like this. He’s a medical dog sir.”

She finally managed to pull him off of the Commander, as Willow decided he had gotten their attention enough to retrieve a juice for the irate clone. He brought the bottle, very proudly, past a mortified Y/N and pushed it into Wolffe’s thigh, waiting for him to take it and praise him for his hard work.

“Why is he here?” The commander asked, finally taking off his helmet and pinning her with a stony glare.

“Sir, he’s my alert dog. He warns me about low blood sugar before it causes problems for me.”

Willow rammed Wolffe’s thigh again. Y/N cringed.

Firing would be merciful. Wolffe looked like he wanted to throw her to the Seppies.

“Why is he doing that?” The commander asked, irritated at the dogs actions.

Seeking to diffuse the situation and avoid any harm coming to her friend, Y/N takes the bottle of juice from the dogs mouth.

“I guess he thinks you have too low blood sugar sir. It happens sometimes, he alerts the other crew members. Although never this aggressively. I…please don’t have him removed sir, he’s not a bad dog, and I really do need him.”

She gestured to the bottle in her hand.

“If you do what he wants, he will stop sir.” Y/N timidly recommended.

Wolffe once again glared at her, but seemed to want to get the insistent dog off his back so he reluctantly went along, reaching out for the juice in her hand, but Y/N pulled it away. Wolffe looked more annoyed, if that was possible, but Y/N simply pulled a fresh bottle out of the fridge.

“Here, take this one. I’m used to the dog lick, but you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

She thought she saw surprised gratitude flick swiftly over his features at the simple curtesy. He twisted the cap off the bottle and threw it back like a shot. His features softened slightly at the sweet drink, and that he no longer had a large canine harassing him. Y/N briefly though that he was very handsome when his face wasn’t twisted up.

He threw the bottle out and Y/N went to leave but he spoke again.

“I didn’t say you could leave soldier. What’s your name and rank”

Y/N gulped. This is where she loses her job. She had been so proud of it too. Worked so hard.

“Y/N L/N, sir. I’m a communications officer.”

“And your dog. How did you come to bring him on board?”

“I have permission from the General to bring him with me on missions sir, seeing as he prevents me from being hurt due to my condition. He’s off leash because should I need it he’s been trained to retrieve help, sir.” Y/N nervously explained, her voice shaking and palms sweating.

The clones from before came up behind her, one resting a hand on her shoulder.

“No need to be so scared, Miss L/N. He was just doing his job. RIGHT Wolffe?”

The commander seemed to cool off a bit at his brothers insistence.

“Still doesn’t explain the tooka” wolffe eyed the silver tabby contentedly purring at the chaos around her.

“Ahhhh…emotional support?”

“Emotional support?” Commander wolffe asked incredulously.

“Uhh, Willows shy. He gets stressed easy. Windchimes keeps him calm, let’s him do his job properly. She was actually an alley tooka, so there’s not a lot that scares her, and...yeah…” Y/N awkwardly trailed off.

One of the other clones took his helmet off. He had a strange shaved haircut with two vertical red stripes running from the front of his head from the back. Not the most flattering look, but Y/N wasn’t going to say anything.

“You named your tooka Windchimes?”

“Uhh, yeah. She likes to play with the Windchimes I have at home, soo…”

The other clones, seeing that the trouble had passed took their helmets off too.

The one with silver hair approached her.

“Is she friendly?” He asked, eyeing the tooka with barely contained excitement.

“Most of the time. Just let her sniff you first.” Y/N gently, cautiously took the soldiers hand, bringing it up to hover a few inches infront of her tookas face. Close enough to smell but not so close it would crowd her.

She didn’t have to worry. Windchimes jumped right into his arms, purring her head off. The clone with silver hair caught her and laughed. Cradling her and scratching behind her ears. The last clone, who looked like your average clone save for the shooting star tattoo on his cheek approached Y/N.

“How long have you been stationed on the Triumphant? I haven’t seen either of these two around before.”

He bent down to rub behind Willows ears. The dog seemed thrilled to finally be getting a reward for all his hard work.

“Two months sir, we usually don’t stray far from the mess, sleeping quarters and com tower.”

The Commander approached. Y/N had to resist the urge to step back. She couldn’t however, fully suppress a large wince at the man’s proximity.

He seemed to notice her discomfort at the entire situation, and took mercy on her.

Reaching down he went to rub her dogs side.

“I guess I can’t fault you for doing your job, can I boy?”

Willow seemed entirely too happy with himself. A big dopey grin on his face, his tail going a mile a minute.

Seemingly done with the situation the Commander straightened up.

“You can go back to your quarters now, miss L/N. Try not to let this happen again.

Y/N nodded, relieved that she wasn’t in trouble.

But little did she know, her trouble had only just begun.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was nearing the end of another long and hard days work. The Triumphant had been in the outer regions providing backup for General Skywalker and the 501st. Their communications had been patchy since leaving the mid rim and the com officers were working double time to stay on top of all transmissions.

The mission was a success though. From what Y/N could tell the troops had done their jobs and returned with only minor injuries, which wasn’t always the case.

Y/N was shutting down her station, preparing for the shift change when she was approached by three clones. She stood and waited for them to explain what they needed. When they got closer they took off their helmets.

It was the same three clones from the incident with Wolffe.

The one with red stripes must’ve noticed her panicked face. He offered her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay, miss L/N. Your not in any trouble.” He reassured, coming to lean against her desk, facing her.

“Uhh, okay then. Can I, uh, help you with anything?”

At this they turned bashful.

“We were wondering if you wanted to, maybe sit with us in the mess?

You could bring your two friends, I mean if you want. You don’t have too I, we, were just…”

The one with the cheek tattoo staggered off his sentence. They all looked slightly embarrassed and out of place here.

"Uhh, sure. Just give me a couple minutes to finish up here.” Y/N replied, with a small, shy smile.

The clones lit up. Mission successful. They had asked the pretty lady to eat with them. Now they just had to convince Wolffe to actually talk to her, instead of just watch her from a distance, not that they had been much different. She certainly made an impression on all of them.

Even the general had noticed. His Wolfpack's eyes and thoughts seemed to be straying as of late.

Willow chose this moment to make his entry. He trotted right up to the clone with the tattoo and began rubbing and leaning against his leg, Windchimes riding on his back like usual.

“Uhh, what’s he doing? Is he alerting me or something?”

Y/N turned back towards him and saw her friend with the biggest begging eyes he could manage, looking straight into the the clones soul.

“No, no”, Y/N breezily laughed, “he’s just begging. Probably wants attention and food”

The clone almost looked disappointed that he didn’t get to be brought a sweet snack by the sweet ladies dog. But he kneeled down to rub his stomach anyway. Willow flopped and rolled onto his back, forcing Windchimes to jump off with an indignant squawk to avoid being squashed. She soon made herself cozy on Y/N’s shoulder.

The clone with silver hair reached out to pat the tooka, delighting in her purring, as well as the proximity to Y/N.

“We never introduced ourselves did we?” He said, looking a bit flustered at the realisation.

“Name's Sinker ma’am. The one with the stripes is Boost, and the guy on the ground is Comet.” He proudly presented his and his brothers names to her.

“Yeah, and the one who got harassed by this guy was-“

“Commander Wolffe. I’m- I know.”

The clones smiled softly at her, expecting that she would think he held a grudge against her for the incident with Willow, when really, it was the opposite.

“It’s good to be able to put a name to your faces.”

At this the clones froze. Stiffened and some of the ease in the air vanished. Y/N had unknowingly touched a sore spot. They thought she was mocking them for being clones.

Boost then pushed himself off her desk, an unreadable mask on his once easy features.

“Face, more like. There’s not much to see I’m afraid.” He was challenging her. Testing to see if they had made a mistake by seeking her out.

Y/N didn’t notice his challenge and replied without thinking.

“Nah, you all look different to me. Most clones do, actually” she said offhandedly, finishing shutting down her station.

“All done. We can go now if you want…?” She turned back to them, they were all staring hard at her, with what seemed like amazement. Y/N didn’t understand the importance of what she had just said.

“Or not? You guys okay? If you don’t want to go anymore that’s fine, I’ll just-“

“NO!” They yelled in unison, then drew back at the volume of their own voices and the fact that Y/N had recoiled from them, looking away.

Boost then took her hand and gently spoke.

“No, please. We still want to go”

He began to lead her to the mess. Her hand still in his, with Sinker taking the other hand and Comet coming up behind her, standing slightly to the side as he lightly rested his arm around Y/N’s lower back.

All three led the furiously blushing woman to the mess, with Windchimes riding her shoulder and Willow trotting at her heels.

When they arrived at the mess Boost and Sinker managed to find an out of the way table, where they could have some privacy.

They talked and talked and talked for what seemed hours. About any and everything. Y/N noticed how Comet and Sinker seemed to gravitate towards willow and Windchimes respectively.

They seemed stunned when she pointed out how ironic it was. That they kinda matched up. Comet was energetic and friendly, while sinker was more reserved and snippy, but in a funny way.

Real cat and dog people, she called them.

Comet and Sinker were thrilled that she had taken notice enough of them to gauge their personality.

“I’m feeling a little left out here, sweetheart.” Boost had dramatically stated, hand over his heart.

“What about me, am I a cat or dog person.” He was itching for any praise or attention she would spare.

Y/N tilted her head.

“Hmmm, neither. You seem more of a people kinda guy. Good at putting them at ease.” She mused.

Boost preened.

He was about to say something when a gruff voice spoke up behind them.

“Boost, Sinker, Comet. What are you doing here?”

The three of them, plus Y/N stood up to address the Commander.

“Commander Wolffe, just keeping the pretty lady company sir”

The Commander eyed Y/N, and then looked around for Willow, as if concerned he would be jumped again. But Willow had taken off with Windchimes and wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Not wanting to seem rude, Y/N looked up at the Commander.

“Did you want to join us sir? If you have time, that is.” She asked kindly.

Wolffe shared a look with his brothers, as if giving some sort of signal.

The Commander turned back to her, a handsome, not unkind smirk on his face. Y/N felt as though she was looking a loth wolf in the eye, her very soul being observed. His gaze was sharp, strong and held a depth and intelligence she couldn’t begin to describe. He had chosen his name perfectly.

“Sure, if you don’t mind. And when it’s just us, you, me and these idiots”, they all let out various sounds of indignation and insult, “You can just call me Wolffe.” He smiled. Actually smiled. Not a smirk or mocking grin. She thought he had a beautiful smile.

Y/N felt as though she had been granted some kind of unimaginable privilege.

“Yes si- I mean, Wolffe.” She awkwardly stated. But he seemed to enjoy the way she said his name, as he scooted closer to her, their knees and shoulders touching.

“There we go pup. Not so bad now. You don’t have to be scared of me.” He commented softly to her, letting Y/N lean into him and wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

Y/N blushed at his nickname. She had not been prepared for a charming and sweet Wolffe. Gruff, arrogant, maybe even rude, yes. But never in a million years did she expect him to be soft and gentle.

Especially with her, after how they met.

“Awww, you made her blush Wolffe.” Boost said, admiring her as if she was some kind of cute baby animal,

“I think your right”, Comet sighed, leaning on his hand looking at her affectionately.

“She is like a little pup.” Sinker came and sat one her other side. “Cute little thing” He commented, resting his head on hers and rubbing her back, encouraging her to sink into their affection. The safetey and warmth of their bodies.

This all seemed to her so sudden. She had met these clones once, and not on very good terms either. Yet here they were, wound around her and staring at her as if they had pined over her for years.

Little did Y/N know, they had been watching her for some time. Keeping an eye on her, learning about her. How she lived, her personality, and watching out for any, undesirables, that may try their luck with sweet Y/N.

They had all come to an agreement. Y/N was the perfect fit for them. Calm and soothing. A sweet balm to come home to. To care for and protect. She would be the packs little pup. And they would keep her with them.

When she had invited Wolffe to join them, that had been the sign they waited for. Wolffe had given them a look that said they could go ahead with their affections, and started to make his own known.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

The Wolfpacks, she could only call it courtship, went in for several weeks. They would eat together, talk and even, when missions allowed, nap together.

Y/N learnt a lot about them in those weeks.

Wolffe got headaches from his eye and was especially irate clingy during them, Boost didn’t especially enjoy his haircut, but he did it for his fallen brothers. Sinker was self conscious about his grey hair, he thinks it makes him look older. Comet is the last survivor of his batch. He chose his name last.

They would talk to her for hours and hours. Speaking about things they had always wanted to say out loud but didn’t think anyone would care about. Their worries, concerns. Their hopes and dreams and random thoughts and curiosities.

Y/N was happy to listen to any and everything the had to say.

She also found out how physically affectionate and attentive these boys could be.

They loved to hug. To comfort and care. They’d treat her with such tenderness and dedication it made her want to cry. No one had ever cared for her like that before. It had always been a ‘take care of yourself’ kind of life for Y/N. Not out of choice, but that’s just the way things happened.

She almost cried at their concern when they started to make sure she was eating enough and staying at healthy blood sugar levels, as opposed to her just waiting until Willow alerted her and then drinking something.

They insisted she nap with them when they were off duty. Stating that they would feel better if they knew she was there with them. Safe and sound. She agreed. Not knowing a single universe where she would give up the opportunity to be comfortably squished between these very large, strong, capable, gorgeous men. She had never slept better than when she was in the middle of a Wolfpack cuddle puddle.

One time some clones from a different squad walked in on their nap time. It was in the barracks and not exactly private but even so, Y/N thought the pack would stir and disperse to save face. However the new clones didn’t blink an eye. Going to form their own sleep pile on the other side of the room. One of them caught her staring in confusion and offered her a smile and a nod, before settling his head down on his brothers shoulder and drifting off.

Wolffe must’ve sensed that she had moved, feeling the cold she supposed.

“Come back here pup. We’re alright.”

He reached a hand out to her, which she took, snuggling into his chest, Sinker's hand resting on her hip and Boost curled around their heads, with his forehead resting on top of Y/N’s. She wasn’t sure where Comet was but there was a warm weight on her thigh that might’ve been him.

“Do all clones sleep like this?” Y/N asked quietly, speaking into Wolffe’s strong, soft chest.

She always thought they would’ve been hard and uncomfortable seeing how strong they were, but she was wrong. They were incredibly strong, but had that layer of fat over their muscles that made them so soft and perfect for cuddling. They never took their shirts off. Never crossed that line with her but she suspected that at the very least Wolffe would have a very nice chest with lots of soft, downy hair on it. It just seemed to fit him. But she would keep those thoughts to herself.

“Most do. Not all”, Wolffe replied quietly, cradling her head to his heart. “It was a way of keeping warm on Kamino when we were cadets and after that a means of comfort.”

Y/N thought that was incredibly sad and cute. Not exactly knowing how to express this she just nuzzled into Wolffe more, reaching out to bring sinker in closer behind her. Comet and boost followed, snuggling in as close as possible without suffocating her.

This was her favourite way to sleep now. Surrounded by her clones with her dog close by and her tooka purring away on top of whatever person she decided to bless with her presence.

It was perfect.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Things started getting too intense for Y/N’s comfort shortly after the Pack first witnessed her having a seizure.

They knew what was happening of course. She had told them about it in depth. What to do, and what not to do. They had gone over everything. She had had seizures since meeting them. But mostly when they were deployed and not around to make sure she was taking care of herself, so when they saw it for themselves they were terrified.

The 104th had just finished up with a mission. They'd had some casualties and several clones were injured. It had been rough on Wolffe. She had gone to join them, feeling dizzy when she stood up. But she decided she would wait till she got to the barracks to drink something, much to Willow's annoyance.

The dizziness passed after a moment and she made her way towards her Pack.

She had just released Boost from a hug when Willow came up behind her, jumping and signaling that she should get down on the ground when suddenly she just started seizing.

Willow had been through this many times with her and knew exactly what to do. He got underneath where her head would’ve otherwise hid the durasteel floor. Windchimes came up to lay near Willow's head, keeping him company while his poor human shook uncontrollably on his soft belly.

This may have been routine for Willow, Windchimes and Y/N, but to the Pack this a new type of hell. Y/N had gone through what a seizure looked like, but seeing it in person scared them. The helplessness scared them. Their sweet pup was seizing and jumping and shaking on the floor, eyes rolling back into her head and body convulsing as if being shocked, and there was nothing any of them could do but watch and hope she doesn’t hurt herself.

None of the clones could wrap their heads around how something like this could happen in natborns. How could the clones be genetically immune to any and all diseases and conditions, but people who were born naturally had to just hope they wouldn't fall victim to such cruel and unavoidable conditions. It didn’t seem right to them. It SCARED them.

Having sensed the distress of his usually calm Commander, General Koon swept in to see what was happening and if he was needed.

When he saw Y/N on the ground, seizing on top of Willow he understood. A few of the Jedi were also prone to seizures for one reason or another. He put a soothing hand on Wolffe’s shoulder, his presence calm.

“It’s never easy to see anyone like this. But there’s nothing we can do except wait for it to stop.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done sir? Anything at all?”

Sinker asked almost desperately, Y/N’s twitching reminding him far too much of some of his brother's deaths on the battlefield.

“I know this is distressing. But miss L/N has managed her condition her whole life. She knows what to do. What we can do, Is make sure she doesn’t hurt herself on anything while like this. You do know not to move her yes?”

“Yes sir. She went over it in depth with us sir. We were not to attempt to move or even touch her. To only move dangerous objects out of reach and let Willow do his job”

Comet replied, doing his best not to look at Y/N.

“Very good Comet. And what your not going to do when she comes back to is overcrowd or overwhelm her.”

By now Y/N’s seizing had slowed and a crowd of concerned clones were standing around her.

When she had stopped moving completely, her breathing even and her face smooth, General Koon went to her side. Still not touching her, he hovered a hand over her head. Checking for any abnormalities in her force signature.

He had met Y/N before, when she was brought on board to discuss her condition and the terms for bringing willow and Windchimes on missions. He had found her sweet and quiet. Very shy and kind. He could see why his Wolfpack was so interested in her. Another thing he noted when they had spoken was her force signature. He dedicated to memory what it should feel like so he would know if her seizures had caused any injury.

Thankfully her signature was calm and normal, becoming more active.

Y/N was coming back around.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The first thing she noticed when she came back around was the Wolfpack. They stood over her, not too close, and they all looked pale, as did the other clones from around the ship who had the misfortune of walking into the scene.

She then noticed General Koon at her side, checking over her.

She went to stand up, gesturing for him to help her, but stooped when at least five clones yelled various things like, ‘STOP!’ ‘’What are you doing?’, ‘stay down there' and, 'we’ll help you’.

Y/N ignored them.

Leaning heavily on the General, she mumbled about wanting to go back to her room, tired from the seizure and flushed at all the attention it had unfortunately gained.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a seizure in public, nor was she ashamed of her affliction, like her mother had told her she should be, but she never enjoyed the looks of fear, worry and panic people always sent her way.

Y/N and the General had just started walking when Wolffe spoke up.

“Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take Y/N to a medic to be assessed before she does anything else.”

Wolffe didn’t wait for a reply. He gently scooped Y/N out of General Koon’s arms and set off for the Triumphant's med bay.

“I don’t have to go there y’know. I feel fine. Just tired and a headache.”

Wolffe wasn’t having it. His pace never faltering he kept on towards his goal, boost, comet and sinker swift at his heels. She couldn’t see Willow but could hear him walking and assumed that Windchimes was with him.

“That...,” his voice shook slightly, “...I don’t know what I expected but that was not, fine”

“These happened before? Like that every time?” A distressed Boost asked.

Y/N sleepily tucked her head into Wolffe’s shoulder. His warmth and soothing scent lulling her into a state of bliss.

“They sometimes are. Sometimes they’re worse, sometimes not as bad. I've had a few since meeting you guys. Usually I’ll have them in my room”

This only seemed to agitate the Pack more as they turned into the med center.

“They’ve happened before!?”

“More than once!?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Y/N was starting to feel overcrowded. Their questions and concerns too much for her right now and against her will, she could feel her eyes begin to water.

She sniffed as Wolffe put her down on an examination table, his arm still wrapped around her lower back.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys. I get them a lot and, I guess I’m just used to dealing with them on my own. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looked down, unwilling to meet their gazes.

Sinker took a seat on her other side, while Boost went off to find a medic.

He didn't say much. Just pulling her into a side hug and kissing the top of her head. A quiet ‘don’t cry’ mumbled into her hair.

Comet meanwhile was standing guard over the med bay, looking out for Boost’s return. He felt awful. Y/N's seizure had scared him, more than he’d like to admit. It was bad enough thinking about this one episode, but knowing she had multiple seizures, while they were supposed to be caring for her just wasn’t good enough.

Boost came back with a medic clone. A shiny called River, and Wolffe explained what had happened for a very flushed looking Y/N.

“Oh, yeah we were warned about this when you started. Did the episode last more than five minutes?”

“No”

“Any injuries?”

“No”

River asked her to follow his finger around with her eyes.

“And any slurred speech or nausea?”

“No” Wolffe growled. Becoming impatient.

“That’s good. As far as I can tell there a isn’t anything to worry about. Though I would recommend taking the day to recover.”

Boost looked at River incredulously

“Wait. That’s it. You mean there’s nothing else?”

“Told ya”, Y/N mumbled

“Nothing else that can be done. A little rest and she’ll be fine” the clone said. A clear dismissal.

“Hold up shiny-“

“WOLFFE”, Y/N barked, having had enough of today, “I just wanna go back to my room. Please?”

He reluctantly gave into her request, but still did not let her walk, carrying her to her tiny room.

She was one of the few allowed a bunk to herself because of the seizures, and assistance animals. Wolffe was grateful for this as he arranged Y/N, himself and his brothers into a cozy nest of blankets and mattresses that they had made in the floor, so they could all fit.

Wolffe wasn’t going to let their pup go through that alone again. Looking at his brothers he could see they were thinking the same.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The clone's clinginess was dialed up to 11 after that. She had at least one of the Wolfpack with her at all times.

When she went to work, there was one of the Pack with caf at her station.

When she had down time, they always just so happened to be where she was.

They slept together, ate together, sometimes they even tried to convince her that they should shower together.

It was flattering, charming even, to Y/N at first. They were her knights in shining armor, and she, their beautiful princess. But the novelty soon wore off. They didn't give her any space. Not anymore. They were glued to her hip 100% of the time.

They wouldn't let her do anything for herself anymore, claiming it's too much, that she should relax and let them handle it.

The true last straw was when they had gotten three days leave on Coruscant, while the Triumphant was being repaired.

Y/N was at a store looking for new clothes, Wolffe was with her, of course.

Not ten minutes into the trip he stated that they should go. Y/N had questioned why. He looked over her shoulder at a crowd of people he deemed were getting too close.

"It's getting kind of crowded in here, and we've been out for a while" he said with that stupid handsome, 'it's alright, I'll take care of you, don't you worry a pretty little hair on your head', kind of smile, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Besides. You could always borrow something from me or the Pack." He whispered suggestively into her ear, "I'm sure you'd look far better in it than us."

Despite hating how they babied her, and feeling uncomfortable at his public display of affection and possession, Y/N couldn't deny how his words affected her. So once again, she went along with him.

They were almost out of the store when another man approached. He was a little bigger than Wolffe, with electric green eyes and a concerned look on his face.

Wolffe was on guard immediately, putting her behind him. Willow and Windchimes following.

"Excuse me ma'am. Me and my friends couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little uncomfortable before. Is everything OK?"

Oh no.

He had caught onto Y/N's discomfort at Wolffe coming onto her. She looked behind him and saw his friends, two other guys and three women, looking at them with various expressions of concern and weariness.

"I'm-"

"We're fine. Go back to your group civie" Wolffe cut off gruffly. Not liking how this man had been watching his sweet pup. Probably planning on how to steal her away from him.

The man wasn't convinced. He addressed Y/N again.

"If you need help, we can take you home, or somewhere else if you like."

Y/N actually considered it. Wolffe was furious.

"Thanks, I-"

"I told you. She's fine. Why don't you leave, before this turns ugly." Wolffe interrupted again, fists balled and ready to fight.

"Why don't you let the lady answer for herself clone." The other man was getting annoyed too.

This was enough for Wolffe. Quicker than Y/N could catch he sent a sucker punch into the mans stomach. He doubled over, heaving and gasping for breath.

Y/N backed off. Terrified at his sudden attack. she had always known that the clones were trained their whole lives, but it was a shock to see her usually sweet Wolffe just attacking a man.

The strangers friend group joined in the fight. A man and woman trying to pull their winded friend out of the fight while the other two, who looked like they cage fought for fun, tried to take Wolffe on. But they were no match for his skill and experience.

Wolffe was quickly gaining the upper hand. Giving out a beating that was terrifyingly relentless and efficient. Blood was all over his hands. Both the man and woman had crooked, bloody noses and one was even missing a tooth.

The third woman in their party, who had stayed back out of the fight and was taking care of the first man, looked at her and gestured for her to run. Find help.

Y/N did.

She bolted out of the store while Wolffe was busy, and hit the streets hard, hearing her name called out behind her. Willow had picked up on his human's fear. He was keeping pace with her, Windchimes on his back hanging on for dear life.

This was it. Y/N couldn't do it anymore. She had to leave them.

For her safety and the safety of everyone around her.

Y/N heard grunts and shouting as people were pushed put of the way behind her. Wolffe had chased her down, leaving the people at the store to peel themselves off the floor. He still had their blood up his arms and a bit on his face.

She sped up, trying to keep the distance between her and the Commander. But she was no match for him either, her vision blurring and spinning. He caught up to her in no more than a minute, scooping her up in a tight hug and turning down an alley where no one was around.

Y/N thought he might be mad at her for running. Thought that he was about to hurt her in some horrible way. She squirmed and twisted trying to get out of his grip.

Wolffe saw how scared she was. Saw that she was trying to run from him. He couldn't let that happen. Couldn't lose her.

He protected her. Him and his brothers did. They needed her with them.

"M'sorry pup. So, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you sweet thing. Please don't be scared. Don't leave. Please" he begged into her neck.

She could feel tears falling and his shoulders shaking. Wolffe's grip was tight. Possessive. All encompassing.

Y/N knew that if she were to get away, it couldn't he now. So she did the only thing she could think of. She wrapped her arms around Wolffe and tried to sooth him. Calm him back down into a steady frame of mind.

Eventually he calmed enough to recognize where they were. A shady alleyway with night approaching and that Willow was desperately digging for the stache of snacks he knew Y/N kept in his harness pocket. He stood up, bringing Y/N with him.

After fishing out a small bag of jellybeans and gently but quickly feeding a few to Y/N, he took her out onto the street and hailed a taxi, His sweet pup's head nodding off into his neck.

He didn't care if they saw his bloody hands or wondered why he was carrying Y/N like a baby, clinging to his shoulders with her legs around his waist. This was Coruscant. These people had definitely seen worse.

Wolffe climbed in the vehicle, ignoring the dirty looks the driver threw at Willow and Windchimes.

They took off towards the Military docks, where the Triumphant was anchored. Most clones just slept on the ship if leave was anything less than a week. Y/N and the Wolfpack were no different. Sinker, Boost and Comet would be waiting for them on board.

When the taxi came to a stop and Wolffe paid up, he went to take Y/N again, but saw she had fallen asleep.

'Precious darling' he thought to himself, picking her up and carrying her to her quarters. Willow and Windchimes following, but keeping a new distance from him.

He payed them no mind.

When he got them back to Y/N's bunk Sinker, Boost and Comet were there just like he had expected.

They demanded to know what had happened as soon as they saw the blood, a very asleep Y/N and how close Wolffe was holding her.

"Bunch of civvies tried to take her. I dealt with it. She got scared and ran, then Willow alerted. I got her some sugar in time but she's really tired from everything."

They all looked at Y/N.

She had blood smeared on her sides from Wolffe and could barley keep her eyes open, wanting to go back to sleep.

Sinker ran a gentle hand through her hair.

"C'mon pup, let's go get you cleaned up," Y/N whined in protest, "I know you don't like it, but your too weak to shower alone right now."

The other three agreed, and despite herself, Y/N let them carry her into the bathroom and strip her down.

This was the first time she had been naked in front of them and was very shy about it, sleepily trying to cover her chest and the apex of her thighs.

The Pack saw nothing but perfection.

They themselves started to strip and Y/N let out a surprised Yelp, suddenly fully awake.

They just smiled at her, bring her in for a hug, her face burning as their naked bodies pressed together.

"Shhhhh, shhh. It's alright pup. Your safe with us. We aren't going to do anything. Just help you clean and then cuddle."

Comet whispered adoringly into her ear.

Despite his promise, she could feel the clear evidence of their arousal poking into her.

Absolutely overwhelmed and drained, Y/N retreated into herself. Letting them guide and baby her.

True to Comet's word the only cleaned her and themselves. Maybe giving a kiss or cuddle to her, but nothing more. In a detached part of her mind, Y/N thought that this was nice. The intimacy and closeness. But she refused to think too much on that.

After their shower, they all cozied up into the a sleep pile on the floor. The blankets and mattresses having stayed down there since the first time they did this. Still very much naked they all tried to get as much contact with Y/N as possible.

Tired, both emotionally and physically she leaned into them. Letting out soft, sleepy whines as they rubbed her hips, kissed up her belly and just rubbed and loved up all over her.

No one made any move to take it any further. They didn't want sex right now. They just wanted closeness. Intimacy.

So, with their pup all snuggled up warm and pliant and most of all, safe in the middle of them, they decided to put on a random holo to fall asleep to, Willow and Windchimes taking a spot near the door of the room, watching them closely.

It was a deep and dreamless sleep for all of them that night.

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

The next day Y/N woke first. The first thing she thought was that she was warm. Very warm. She struggled to recall what had happened the previous night, then she saw Wolffe's bruised knuckles resting next to her head, loosely cradling it, and everything came crashing back.

The fight, the chase, the aftermath. At this Y/N checked under the blanket and, yup, she was still very much naked. And so were her boys.

She stopped there.

Her boys. She wanted away from them, not to encourage them to get closer and clingier.

She started to untangle herself from them, freezing whenever one of them moved or grunted. She hoped to get away before they woke and tried to follow her.

She had to speak to General Koon.

But of course, no such luck. They were light sleepers and her movement had woken Comet, who very rarely slept through the night anyway.

"Where you going pup?" He yawned sweetly, and Y/N had to stop herself from awwing.

She couldn't humanize them.

Not now.

She had to see them as an obstacle to overcome. A dangerous road barrier in her life, otherwise, she would break. She would stay and let them dictate her life, because it felt so good to just be. Be loved and be cared for.

"Just gonna put some clothes on and take willow for a quick walk. I'll be back soon."

By now the others had woken.

They were each starting to peel themselves up and dress.

"You want some company?" Wolffe asked, staring at her adoringly, shameless in his bare skin.

Belatedly Y/N realized she was still naked, and immediately set about looking for some clothes.

Wolffe chuckled. "Over here, sweet pup", and he gestures to a pile of washing she had done a few days ago.

Y/N knew it was there. But she had hoped to not have to pass him to find something to wear.

hesitantly, Y/N stepped over. She shook her head no at his question.

As she went to pick something out, Wolffe's arms came around her waist. His face nuzzling its way into her neck.

"You sure you don't want company?" He asked again.

The Wolfpack had always been more trusting of their brothers aboard the triumphant. More willing to let her actually be alone, at least for a few minutes, but they still didn't like to be separated from her. Y/N thought fast, coming up with an excuse as to why she should go alone.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna let willow outside for a but then swing by the mess"

Y/N knew Wolffe hated the mess in the morning. He did everything he could to avoid it as it was overrun by star struck shinies trying to ask him a thousand questions.

That did the trick. Wolffe let her go and boost handed her a red dress. The colour matching his hair. He had always loved that dress. It was short and soft and comfortable.

Y/N took it, along with whatever underwear she saw first, and put them on, not acknowledging the still naked clones watching her dress.

'Do they really not give that much of a fuck' she thought to herself.

Boost, Sinker and Comet hugged her close as she passed them, kissing her on her cheeks, hairline and forehead.

"Come back soon." Sinker had tenderly spoken into her skin, as the others finally began to dress.

Y/N almost rolled her eyes. They acted as if she was travelling across the galaxy. She just gave a small grunt of agreement instead, and headed out the door with Willow and Windchimes on her tail.

As soon as she was out of sight, she made a beeline for General Koon's quarters.

This was amazingly out of line for someone of her rank to be doing this to their General, but she was desperate and needed help.

She got to the General's door and was about to knock, when it slid open on its own.

General Koon was in the middle of the room. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in a patch of sun, but began to stand up when Y/N still hadn't moved.

"Miss L/N. Please, come in."

She stumbled into the room. Caught off guard at how he knew she was there. Willow and Windchimes waited politely at his door.

"Your friends may enter as well, child" he added, with kind amusement.

Her dog and tooka happily trotted inside, the door sliding shut behind them.

"How did you-?"

"I could sense your distress long before you reached my door. Tell me young one, What worries you so?"

She hadn't planned in breaking down.

She wanted to be the strong confident person who stated what she needed. But the General's genuine, fatherly tone broke her, and she burst into tears. General Koon immediately reached out to her. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and allowing her to hug him as she stuttered out an explanation.

"General. I'm so sorry. I...I need help. The wolfpack they're too much. I need to get away from them..." she sobbed into his robes.

He gently pulled her away from him, worried about where this was going.

"Miss L/N, I need you to calm down. What has the Commander and his men done?"

"Sir I... Maybe...No. This was a mistake. They're your men and, and-"

The general took her hand.

"You are part of my crew too, young one. You have just as much the right to feel safe here as anyone else. Please tell me what the Commander has done."

The flood gates opened. She told him everything.

How they would not leave her alone.

How possessive they were, how they wouldn't let her talk to anyone outside the ship, or even just be outside the ship, without one of them glued to her hip.

Finally she told the General about the incident in the city yesterday. How Wolffe had beaten an entire group for watching out for her. How they had taken advantage of her shock to put her in a position she had been denying for weeks now.

Shocked, General Koon asked what they had done, praying to the force it wasn't what he thought.

"I, maybe it seems strange, but they've been trying to get me to shower with them for a while and, I don't know, I just, let them. Last night. It was like I was a doll or something. They just undressed me and washed me and passed me around, hugging me like I was a toy. And, and I let them. I just LET them."

She felt embarrassed and disgusted with her own weakness.

The General on the other hand, felt sick.

"Y/N, they didn't try to..." This was hard even for him to say.

Those boys were like sons to him. Good soldiers and, he thought, good men. But this obsession with Y/N alarmed him.

"No, no they didn't try to sleep with me. They just hugged me. Held me close, kissed me."

There was more. Plo could feel it.

"What else child. There is more on your mind yes?"

Y/N looked disgusted with herself.

"I liked it" she said with a small voice.

"I liked their attention. Let it happen and I-"

"Y/N", The general said firmly. "This is not your fault. They put you in this position. Took advantage of your shock and vulnerability. None of this is your fault.

"I don't want them hurt or sent back to Kamino. I just wanna, disappear, I guess."

The general tilted his head.

"You wish for their actions to go unpunished?"

"I don't want them to be killed and used for parts. Maybe I should hate them. But I don't. I just wanna leave. Besides, they cant chase me up if they don't know where I am. Or even if I'm gone at all. That's really why I came here, Sir. I need to leave. As soon as possible. Today even, if I can, and I need to do it without them finding out."

Plo didn't entirely agree with Y/N's reasoning. But could understand her want to not hang around to decide a punishment, wanting, instead, a stealthy get away. So he decided to help her. Right now.

"I can get you a transfer to another station. They need managerial staff and are providing housing along with it. The stations just above Naboo, plenty far enough away from where me and the Wolfpack usually roam. It may be a step down and out of your current position, but its the best solution I can offer you."

Y/N felt like crying. He was helping her. He listened to her. Believed her.

"Thank you sir. When can I go?"

Plo kindly helped Y/N up off the floor.

"They are desperate for more help, so right now actually. The shuttle to the ship that will transport You there leaves in 5 minutes." He passed her a hooded cloak to wear on the way to the shuttle" I'll escort you and you companions there, we'll try to avoid the cameras. Unfortunately you'll have to leave your possessions behind. I can arrange for all the paperwork to be completed while your in transit, including an advance in pay and an alias. You can think of a name on the way there." He was already leading her out the door, heading towards the shuttle bay, which, thankfully, wasn't too far away.

They made it to the shuttle just in time. Y/N turned to the general.

"N/F/N N/L/N. That's what I'll go by."

The General tilted his head.

"Well then, N/F/N N/L/N. Good luck."

"Goodbye General, and thank you."

"May the force be with you, my child"

With that, the shuttle door shut and Y/N was off to her new home. Hope blooming in her heart.

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

Wolffe was furious. His entire pack was.

It had been three months since Y/N had disappeared. He let her out of his sight for what he thought was going to be five minutes and their pup never came back.

They had started to become concerned after half an hour had passed and still no sight of her. They became distraught when she still had not returned after two hours and none of his brothers on the Triumphant had seen her or her pets anywhere.

Something had happened. Had she been taken? She wouldn't leave would she?

No, she had to have been taken against her will, that's the only reason there could be. This is why Wolffe didn't want to let her go out alone. He'd had a lapse in judgement thinking their pup was safe on board the ship, and this had happened.

Not knowing who else to go to, Boost suggested that they ask Plo'Buir for help. Their pup and Father seemed to be friends and it's possible that maybe she was with him. Y/N didn't really have any other close friends on board, preferring to keep to herself.

When they asked the General about her, he told them she had to go planet side for an indeterminate amount of time.

"Using her leave, for family matters" He had stated. There was an odd distance to his voice, a coldness that hadn't been there last time they spoke.

The pack didn't buy it. There had to be something else.

"Anyone else get the feeling something more is happening here?" Sinker had asked once they arrived back at Y/N's bunk.

They preferred going here as opposed to back to the barracks due to the privacy it afforded them.

"I agree. I'd never question Plo'Buir, but this doesn't add up. The only family Y/N has planet side is her mother, and they've been no contact for years." Boost added.

None of them believed that Y/N or the General were trying to trick them.

No.

It must be something else. Someone must have forced their pup to leave their side, but why? What had happened.

All of them wanted nothing more than to go out and find her. Hunt her down until she was safely back in their embrace. But they couldn't do that. The Triumphant was setting out for a mission in the outer rim. Who knows how long they'd be gone.

Too long, as they soon found out. Three months into the mission, and Wolffe had become more foul tempered than ever. He snapped at anyone who looked at him wrong, barley had any patience for the civilians he was here to help and sequestered himself in Y/N's old bunk with his pack when not on duty.

They all missed her desperately.

The mission was just about to end when the clones got an encrypted transmission from the Coruscant guard and the Alpha clones.

Palpatine was dead.

He was the Sith Lord behind the entire galactic conflict.

Fox had killed him personally in defense of his young Jedi daughter. Apparently she had discovered his secret through ARC trooper Fives, who she and the Corries had secretly saved. This had brought the clones plans for their beloved Jedi forward. It was time to take their family, their loves away.

The 104th would bring their General, their Father, back to safety. Wolffe would ensure their were no complications and personally see Plo'Buir settled and safe. But after that, they would go out to find their sweet pup.

It was time for the Wolfpack to hunt.

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

Y/N was happier than she had been in a long time.

Her job above the planet of Naboo had turned out not to be as demanding as her old communications station had. she had free time, freedom and a beautiful planet with housing just below the ship she was on.

when Y/N had first arrived on the ship, she had nothing but the clothes on her back, her two companions and an encrypted com that General Koon had snuck her before she left. It contained all the details she would need to know in her new life. She had been nervous and shy, jumping at corners and looking out for familiar grey and white armor everywhere. but eventually she settled down. became more at ease.

A big reason behind Y/N's happiness was her bunkmate and now closest friend, Lazara Rei. A tall Togrutan woman with the bubbliest, kindest, most outgoing personality that Y/N had ever encountered.

When they first met, Y/N had been very nervous. Lazara was an intimidating beauty with dark blue skin, powder blue montral and soft orange designs on her face and horns. she towered over Y/N, dwarfing even the clones and Y/N was immediately weary of her.

But Lazara was the kind of personality that just brightened up a room, seemingly gravitating towards the shy and lonely, taking them under her wing.

Y/N hadn't noticed how toxic, how controlling her relationship with the Wolfpack had been, but now compared to that situation, her friendship to Lazara seemed like a cool, refreshing breeze against her skin, where she once felt crowded and sticky.

She and Lazara were currently off the clock and walking around a market in Naboo. They had been discussing their failed relationships and crushes.

Lazara, most amusingly, had the biggest crush on General Koon that Y/N had ever seen.

"I don't care what he looks like. That man is a certified DILF. Just his voice, and the way he moves...just UGHH" she had been gesturing wildly while describing her precious crush.

"I've seen him in action, ya know. Twice, when his ship and ours were on a co-op. He really seems like a man that would take care of you." she sighed, dreamily.

"He is." Y/N commented, examining a table with carved wooden jewelry.

"You've met him?" Lazara asked, almost offended that Y/N might have details about the general and was keeping them to herself.

"Well, out with it. What's he like, in person" she asked, her voice low and mischievous.

"He's actually the one who got me the transfer here. I was having some, lets say trouble, and needed help. He listened to me. Believed me and didn't hesitate to go out of his way to help." Y/N then looked at Lazara. a smirk on her face, "I've seen him fight many times too. he is very graceful."

"I KNEW IT! TOTAL DILF" she yelled, gaining side eye from everyone around them. she lowered her voice again, if she could, Y/N believed she would be blushing.

"You didn't happen to catch what he smelt like did you?"

"LAZARA" Y/N exclaimed

"What? Say what you want about them, but a good smell on a man can mean a world of difference. I bet he smells good right? Not like he's drowning in cologne? Ugh, I hate that in a guy. I once dated someone who wore so much I swear I had a blood alcohol reading from it. Young me really had no taste" Lazara bemoaned the mistakes of her youth.

"He smells clean. Like fresh linen, I guess."

Lazara looked pointedly at her and gestured for her to continue.

"I kind of, might've, cried in his chest when I went to him for help."

"What? And you were just gonna keep that from me? What was it like? Did it feel awkward? Was he a good hugger? Was he strong, I bet he was."

At this point they could see the stall owner start to get annoyed over their loitering and they decided to go hunt down a decent place to eat.

"Um, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. He wasn't awkward or distant, more supportive. Like, he let me choose if I wanted to hug or not, and yeah, he is pretty strong. One time he found me while I was having a seizure, helped me up like I was nothing." Y/N reminisced, trying not to think about the Wolfpack. she suddenly remembered a few more details.

"He's, I can only think to describe it as cozy. You know when you see pictures of old libraries and they're warmly lit, the shelves are all a rich red and the books are leather-bound. Everything's slightly aged and worn, but it all feels very welcoming and warm? That's what it feel like to be hugged by him. Welcoming and warm. He called me things like Young one and Child, made me feel valid and seen."

Lazara looked like she was in another world, dreamily staring ahead into space while they walked. The market had passed behind them while they talked and they were now on some nature walk out of Theed.

"Lucky girl, living my dream. I'm Jealous"

Y/N playfully shoved her.

"I have one of his cloaks at home if you wanna try and sniff his scent out ya weirdo. He gave it to me when I left"

"NOO, you make it sound so weird and creepy"

They both laughed. the ease of their relationship had amazed Y/N. Lazara had a way of sensing and navigating her moods that led her to wonder if she herself was force sensitive.

It would make sense. Lazara had once told her the reason she was on board that ship was because her younger twin brother was the Jedi General aboard it. Y/N was shocked at this. she had never really thought about the family the Jedi left behind.

Lazara hadn't talked to him, and he didn't seem to remember her enough to recognize his sister after all these years. but it brought Lazara a certain amount of peace to be able to see her brother safe and well.

Playfully, the Togrutan shoved Y/N's shoulder.

"What about you? Any crushes?

Partners?

Fuck buddies or doomed romances?"

Y/N sighed.

"Only the ones I'm running away from. I'd rather not go into detail."

Lazara looked at her understandingly. she looked like she was going to say something when suddenly she and Lazara were pulled to the side, off the path and behind some trees. They couldn't speak or move. Looking over her shoulder as much as she could, terrified of who might be behind her, Y/N saw a cloaked figure, tall and imposing. Then everything blacked out.

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

Wolffe was enraged. How had this happened again, when he was right there, right outside the door!

The room he was in was destroyed. the furniture was torn up and there were several blaster shots in the wall, the clones weapon still hot.

Their Plo'Buir had run from them. From THEM. He mustve been scared, felt danger when they took him and brought him to this room.

he wasnt in any danger. he was as far from danger as any jedi could be, with his sons right outside the door ready to fight for him.

true, they had drugged him and put a dampener on him so he was weakened in the force. but its not like the drug was harmfull or he wascut off from his powers completly. the Wolfpack wanted to protect him, not torture him.

It hadn't been enough. their Plo'Buir had still managed to escape. in his hazy state of mind he must've perceived some sort of enemy and run away from them. he should've just come to his sons.

They would've done anything to comfort him.

instead he chose to slip out via an air vent that Wolffe had though was to small for him, his powers too weak.

But their Buir was a strong man. He'd had to be.

Plo'Buir had escaped, but Wolffe wasn't done yet. They had left a tracker on the cuff they used to dampen his force capabilities. All the Wolfpack had to do was catch him before he found a way to remove the cuff.

Wolffe stormed out of the holding room. Boost, Comet and Sinker on his heels, equally enraged as they boarded their starships.

They would find their Buir all right, And when they did, they would make sure he would never be without them again.

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

When Y/N came around, she expected there to be pain. there was none. she was lying on the floor of a cave, Lazara beside her, slowly coming to herself. there was a scrunched up cloak underneath their heads.

Lazara groaned as she sat up.

"What happened? where-Y/N!" The Togrutan went to help her friend up, looking around for whoever brought them here.

a figure walked into the entrance of the cave. his figure still blury to the womens sight, but Y/N came to recognise some pretty distinctive features.

"GENERAL KOON!" She exclaimed with relief. she had thought the Wolfpack had found her.

despite everything, when Lazara found out who had taken her, she still had to supress a dopey grin at her crush being 5 feet infront of her.

"Hello young one. It's good to see you again"

He helped her and a frozen Lazara sit up.

"Although I'm afraid it's under dire circumstances."

Y/N looked pointedly at him.

"What's happened?"

"The clones have gone rogue. Fox killed the chancellor. Palpatine was the Sith Master behind everything."

Palpatine was a Sith master? she had never cared much for him, but damn, she wasn't expecting this. Lazara finally seemed to find her voice.

"The Sith Master... but wouldn't that mean the war is over? why hasn't anyone been told?"

"It appears the clones have taken control of Kamino, the Gar and Coruscant is under lockdown. all the clones have been ordered to bring their Jedi back to the temple. I don't know why, I barley managed to get away."

Lazara looked sick, thinking of her brother.

"Have they taken our ship? the Jedi General, he's my brother sir"

Y/N could see visible shock on the Generals face.

"I'm afraid so, my dear. Commander Waves took control of the bridge this morning. your General has not been seen since"

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"When I escaped the Triumphant I took one of the tech clones data pads. I've been using it to listen in on their commands."

"General, not that I'm not glad to see you, but why did you come here?"

"More bad news I'm afraid. When the Wolfpack caught me they put an inhibitor cuff on me. I removed the cuff and found a tracker. By that time I was far too close to Naboo. The Clones arrived shortly after I did. Wolffe was leading them. I'm sorry, Y/N."

Y/N paled.

They were here.

They would find her. How many officers transferred to Naboo three months ago and just so happened to own a dog and a tooka.

"How did you find me?"

"I've been following you all day, young one"

Lazara looked up, realizing something.

"All day, general?"

"All day, dear Lazara. I must say, I'm quite flattered."

Despite the situation, Y/N was thoroughly amused. Lazara looked horrified.

Y/N's Amusement didn't last long though. They all watched as several clones with jetpacks circled their position.

The Wolfpack had found them.

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

Wolffe couldnt beleive their luck. He and the Pack had coordinated with the cruiser above Naboo. it was the closest planet to where their Buir had dropped off the radar.

meeting uo with the Commander, a clone called Waves, he had learnt that a new member of his crew had been transferred from the triumphant about 3 months ago. it was a last minute transfer. the woman had a dog and tooka with her.

"Y/N's been here the whole time! What has she been doing?" Boost blurted out, unable to fully express how releived he was to hear about their sweet pup.

"Honestly, shes been managing the mechanical wing on level 5. one of my best officers. efficiant and knows how to keep everything in line. a few of my other officers could learn a thing or two from her."

"Thats our girl" sinker said proudly.

"Do you have any way to know where she might be? if we find her there's a good chance we'll find Plo'Buir." Comet pointed out.

"She'll most likely be with my cyare, Lazara Rei. they've been the best of friends since Miss N/L/N arrived."

"N/L/N?" Wolffe questioned.

"Yeah, her name. N/F/N N/L/N"

The Wolfpack looked at each other

"That's how she did it..." Sinker speculated

"N/F/N N/L/N isn't her real name is it?"

"No. It's Y/N L/N"

Waves looked at them with understanding. He couldn't imagine losing his General or his darling

"All my officers and mechanics are required to carry key cards. its how they are able to travel between the flagship and Naboo so easily. If miss Y/N is anywhere, she'll be with my Lazara. and luckily, my dear Lazara's key card has a bit of extra tech in it, so I can make sure she doesn't stray too far or into danger. I'm willing to bet if you find my cyare, you'll find your General and Y/N"

"Thank you, Waves. we'll set out to retrieve them immediately." Wolffe shook Waves' hand.

"We will provide jetpacks and the necessary sedatives you'll need for the job. Just one thing. When you find them, be gentle with my darling please. she's so kind and would hate for her to be hurt at all"

Wolffe could see the cracks in Waves' composure. He was as worried for his darling as him and his pack were.

"We'll bring them all home safe and sound, Commander" Wolffe said, putting his helmet on. they would not lose another minute.

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

General Koon, Lazara and Y/N had all run in different direction. Scattering like prey beneath the wolves gaze.

But they were no match. Y/N saw Lazara scooped up by two of the Wolfpack, she couldn't tell who, but they seemed to sedate her as her body went limp for a second time that day.

She then saw General Koon darted from a distance. He didn't have his lightsaber but the clones were too smart to try and take him close up, resorting to a tranquillizer dart from a distance.

The General was taken away and just like that, she was the last left, with the fourth clone hot on her heels.

She was getting dizzy again. Y/N hadn't eaten anything in too long. The clone was catching up to her, but she couldn't move any faster. Suddenly her vision blurred. When it focused again she was face to face with Sinker's familiar helmet.

"No-"

"Pup, its okay-"

"No, NO-"

"Pup, please, its me, its Sinker!" He tried to reason with her, not sure why she seemed so panicked, tossing and turning, trying to get out of his grip.

"NO! LET ME GO! PUT ME DOWN! YOU CAN'T, ITS TOO..." She had moved around too much in his arms, throwing herself out of his grip and dropping from hundreds of feet above Theed.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

Y/N screamed as she plummeted towards the ground, Sinker following her and catching her just before she hit the ground.

Hovering in place, he held her quivering, panicked form close, trying to soothe her, and calm himself.

"shh, shhhh, its okay sweet pup, its alright. I'm here. We all are. We're gonna take such good care of you now. Your safe with us okay. We were all so scared for you sweet girl."

Sinker kept cooing and whispering reassurances in her ear. Y/N couldn't hear any of them. Her blood was rushing in her ears from adrenaline, her body still shaking from the fall.

Sinker held her closer to his chest, squishing her against his cold, hard armor. She was shaking so bad, her eyes screwed shut. She didn't notice Wolffe, who had dropped off Plo and come down to help when he saw Y/N falling, approaching from behind her.

Wolffe crowded against her as much as he could mid air, his helmet coming to rest on the back of her head.

His own shoulders were shaking slightly. His throat horse from the scream he'd let out when he saw his sweet pup falling to her death.

"It's alright pup, everything's gonna be alright. We're gonna keep you safe. You must've been so scared. I'm so glad to see you again. I love you so much, we all do."

Wolffe kept talking as he raised his arm, a sedative in his hand. moving Y/N's hair to the side, tenderly caressing her bare skin, before plunging the needle into her neck.

The last thing Y/N heard before everything went black was Wolffe telling her they'd all be together again soon.

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

Y/N woke up with the headache of the century. she was sore, and her mouth was dry.

She went to move, to look for her dog and tooka when she realized something. there was a bandage around her arm and she was surrounded by clones.

Her clones. They'd gotten her after all.

Y/N started to shakily unwrap the bandage, the clones around her begining to wake up.

"No, no, no..." Y/N muttered to herself, seeing what they had done to her. The light from a tracker blinking under the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist, a little too close to her veins.

A warm naked chest pressed against her, thankfully, clothed back. Two warm arms enveloping her tenderly.

Wolffe kissed her forehead and moved down her face to kiss and nip at her neck and shoulder.

"M'sorry sweet pup, but you left us no choice." Y/N started to cry, Wolffe kissed away her tears, "We cant keep you safe and loved if you disappear."

Sinker, Boost and Comet cozied up to her sides.

"We missed you so much, our sweet, sweet pup."

[lookismaddict]

Favorite mutuals you love seeing on your dash? :DDDD

Dawwww sheeeeeesh. I thought of a lot of people, actually. (And sorry to everyone else who I might have forgotten to mention on here. You’re all very wonderful but there’s too many bruv. I’m sorry. 😭🙏🏽)

First of all, I love seeing my wife, Lhester (lhester), on my dash because she always reblogs so many things that make me laugh, and I have to reblog them. ❤️(And some unhinged things, but I won’t go into specifics LMAO). Li-Li (iwasneverth3re), because she always posting some HOT ASS GUN FANART. 🔥 Like thank you for the eyegasm, my fellow Gun simp/wife. 🖤 Sunny (x-xsunlightx-x) and Day (lalaland123456), because every time they post they always be arguing with each other over the most weirdest things through their Ask box (like Sunny bringing in a new lab rat and Day being hit on by many people 💀) and it makes me LMAOOOO every time. 💕 Hyusolk (hyusolk) and Jann (bigdealno5), because they’re both very cute whenever they interact with each other. 😭💜 (I enjoy seeing Hyusolk creating beautiful artwork as if they came from a movie and seeing Jann’s creative and aesthetic posts of different Lookism characters 🙌🏽). Adrien (spaceyflowers) because their tags on their reblogs are SO FUNNY LMAOOO. I crack up whenever I see Adrien’s reblogs. Also, their WONDERFUL WRITING. 💙 I follow their writing blog (spaceyflowerswriting) and let me tell you… I love how they’re very detailed and accurate when it comes to writing as Lookism characters. They never miss when it comes to their POVs, and I respect that. 🤝🏽 Sam (slimesam), because I love seeing her artwork. Ever since that beautiful fanart for Rendezvous, I always look forward to what drawing she had completed every week. 💚 Now she’s my manager, so she keeps me in check with her reblogs. 😅 (sorry Sam for my behavior recently LOL) I also appreciate her for being a huge fan of my story as well. A true avid fan 🙏🏽✨ Ria (qawcamiz), because I enjoy reading her writing too! 💗 Very descriptive and I became a fan of her writing ever since she sent that little story thing of Gun x (Y/N)… 😳 And I always look forward to her updates. June (gintokilindo), because I love their headcannons so much. They’re such a creative writer as well, and I love the fun topics that they write about for each character. Very accurate as well! 💝 Rina (lokislytherin), because oh my god. Her writing is SO ARTICULATE AND DETAILED!! Like, she’s so smart. I love reading her mini analyses on characters, headcannons, and reblogs of various writing-related posts. 💓 Gin (fan-of-chaos) because she’s always so supportive and positive when it comes to re-blogging from different posts. She shares a lot of funny and pretty Lookism posts/artwork 🧡 ALSO I LOVED HER “Trip to the Mountains” HEADCANNONS, ESP THE GUN AND GOO ONE. That one got me 💀💀💀 Micha (leekeira/Misaki), because she’s my fav dongsaeng 😊🤍 I am a fond of her new sketches and her cute fanfics, and she has grown a lot in her blog. It’s like watching a little sister grow up in front of you. 🥲💞 Mrs. Kang (dgragoon) because I admire how open she is with talking to people and her reblog threads are always funny to read, including her updates. Cracks me up every time 😭💛 And recently, skullsmashr and Ruth (moonok3). Like… holy shit. I’ve never talked to ANYONE SO UNHINGED IN MY LIFE. Ever since I saw her own chapter reviews, I’m like “This bitch really got the same sense of humor as me.” ✨ BUT ALSO SHE’S A DEMON LMFAAAOOOO (jk love ya sister even tho you a bad influence on me 💖) And Ruth! Recently, she posted for the first time of a sketch of Gun x (Y/N) and her drawing was so pretty!! It gave me butterflies. 🦋 And the reblogs she posts got me feeling dead inside because it’s mostly me, her, and Skullsmashr being IDIOTS. 💀💀💀💀But she’s too kind, and I appreciate her being a fan of my story since Day 1 and I’m glad that I get to finally talk to her more on here! 🤎 (if you see this Ruth, remember the hotline, ok? 👀)

[masalafilmsrevival]

Hello! I'm writing a final Essay about Indian parallel cinema or new Indian cinema and I kinda got lost, there are so many movies and themes to explore! since the deadline is pushing me, I don't have much time to explore it deeply, i've watched Charulata and Apu's trilogy but couldn't move forward from there. (all of them mind-blowingly amazing btw) Could you please please please give me some direction on which way should i keep looking/researching or any of your favorite themes that are recurring in 50's-70's Indian "new wave" films ? anything would be really helpful. Thank you in advance, hope you have an amazing day!!

oh my god, i did not see this until now as i typically only see notifications for this blog when i'm on desktop, i'm so sorry!! i really hope this isnt too late to respond. okay so i'm no expert but just some thoughts:

so obviously its a film movement that originated in bengal, a lot of parallel cinema is bengali indian OR bangladeshi, i'm not sure if theres a specific reason you're focusing on indian parallel cinema for your essay but thats something to keep into consideration especially because it spans past the 70s well into the 80s and somewhat 90s so after the independence of bangladesh. and that does impact and put context to the narrative of many films

the themes that are recurring tend to be class consciousness and disillusionment, religious and racial discrimination, casteism, more frank portrayals of the topic of sex, marxist thought, the burden of patriarchal society and expectation, to some extent borderline nihilism in my opinion, essentially the polar opposite of bollywoods pristine glamorized and polished portrayal of life and society that borders on science fiction from how removed from reality it is. in spite of it often.

if you want an outline of some filmmakers, actors, and films that can give you a decent idea of the movement, off the top of my head:

films i can think of that will give you a decent understanding of the tone and themes of the movement at least:

mirch masala

a river called titas and cloud capped star

donkey in a brahmin village

the apu trilogy and charulata as you said as well as devi and shatranj ke khilari. (the coward is also one of my personal favorites but not a necessary watch)

mammo, mandi, and bhumika

dont cry for salim the lame, the strange fate of arvind desai

arth

rat trap

maya darpan

duvidha, nazar, uski roti

quintessential filmmakers to at least get a decently rounded understanding (in my opinion):

saeed akhtar mirza

mani kaul

satyajit ray

ritwik ghatak

shyam benegal

mrinal sen

actors whose work or work during the period of early parallel cinema to look to:

smita patil (!) (probably the most important to look into if youre interested in this movement)

shabana azmi (early work)

madhabi mukherjee

soumitra chatterjee

 naseeruddin shah (early work)

om puri (early work)

all of this is really just what came to mind immediately, i had planned on writing up a comprehensive summary of parallel cinema and what i considered essential viewing and themes and i will do that eventually, but i wanted to answer this as quickly as possible so i could easily be leaving out an insane amount of things. also i primarily used the english translations for these films unless i couldnt remember them. if youre in the usa (and maybe outside of it as well im not sure) MANY of these works or works made by these directors are on youtube or archive.org. i hope this is of some help and eventually i will post more comprehensive detail + scans of books i have about this. hope this helps someone and you have a good day!

[bookish-artist]

Hi!

I just found your blog and loving it! Could you maybe answer all those questions since I'm new here? 🙏🏼

Well welcome! And of course I can, thank you for asking so nicely mon ami ❤️

1: Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?

Closed, always

2: Do you take the shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotel?

No my hair is picky

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

Um well they're tucked in at the end, not on the sides

4: Have you ever stolen a street sign before?

No not my vibe of decor

5: Do you like to use post-it notes?

Yes way too much tbh

6: Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?

No I'm not really a coupon user

7: Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?

Probably a bear. I feel like a single creature is easier to get away from than a swarm, if escape is plausible

8: Do you have freckles?

I do not

9: Do you always smile for pictures?

Yes

10: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Cutting me off/talking over me.

11: Do you ever count your steps when you walk?

No never

12: Have you ever peed in the woods?

Yes

13: What about pooped in the woods?

No

14: Do you ever dance even if theres no music playing?

Occasionally yes

15: Do you chew your pens and pencils?

I chew my pens *sometimes* but not my pencils

16: How many people have you slept with this week?

1

17: What size is your bed?

Queen

18: What is your song of the week?

Loud - The Home Team

19: Is it okay for guys to wear pink?

Of course!

20: Do you still watch cartoons?

Oh yeah

21: Whats your least favorite movie?

Talladega Nights, can't stand it

22: Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?

Probably on my family's land

23: If you’re a girl, bra size? If you’re a guy, pants size?

42DD

24: What do you dip a chicken nugget in?

Depends on the restaurant I get them from, different places have different favorites lol

25: What is your favorite food?

Mexican, specifically enchiladas

26: What movies could you watch over and over and still love?

Oh gods.. Pride and Prejudice, any of the Winnie the Pooh movies, old school Disney, Phantom of the Opera, there's just so so many lol

27: Last person you kissed/kissed you?

My fwb 😆

28: Were you ever a boy/girl scout?

Nope

29: Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?

Sure why not?

30: When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?

Hmm, probably in elementary school. We did that write a soldier program and that's the last vivid memory I have of writing a letter

31: Can you change the oil on a car?

Nope

32: Ever gotten a speeding ticket?

Yes

33: Ever ran out of gas?

No, I always have at least a quarter in there

34: Favorite kind of sandwich?

Turkey, cheese, lettuce, mayo, jalapenos

35: Best thing to eat for breakfast?

Sunny side up egg on an everything bagel with orange juice, maybe some bacon

36: What is your usual bedtime?

Between 11:30-12

37: Are you lazy?

No

38: When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?

My first costume ever was a hershey kiss! Then I was a power ranger, pirate, Belle, witch, cat, dog, wolf, red riding hood, Ghost face, pumpkin king, angel, devil, fairy.. I've done a little bit of everything 😅

39: What is your Chinese astrological sign?

Um sign of the rat I think? '96 baby ✌🏼

40: Are you horny?

At this very moment?? No lol

41: Do you have any magazine subscriptions?

Not currently no, eyeballing a couple

42: Which are better legos or lincoln logs?

Legos, duh

43: Are you stubborn?

Me? Stubborn? Never 🙄

44: Who is better…Leno or Letterman?

Ew neither

45: Ever watch soap operas?

No not really my thing. Unless you count k dramas

46: Are you afraid of heights?

I don't love them, but they're not a fear

47: Do you sing in the car?

Full on karaoke show

48: Do you sing in the shower?

Karaoke show part 2

49: Do you dance in the car?

Way way too often 😂

50: Ever used a gun?

Yes, I'm a good shot too 😏

51: Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Probably my uncle's wedding like 10+ years ago

52: Do you think musicals are cheesy?

Absolutely not, I love them! One of my favorite genres ever

53: Is Christmas stressful?

When you wait until the very last minute like I did yes 😮‍💨

54: Ever eat a pierogi?

I have not actually, I'll have to add that to the list

55: Favorite type of fruit pie?

I'm not a big pie person

56: Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

Marine biologist, ballerina, librarian

57: Do you believe in ghosts?

Yes

58: Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

Frequently, it's a little unsettling actually

59: Take a vitamin daily?

No

60: Wear slippers?

Sometimes

61: Wear a bath robe?

Also sometimes lol

62: What do you wear to bed?

Either sweatpants and a tee or just a tee

63: First concert?

Panic at the Disco!

64: Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

Walmart

65: Nike or Adidas?

Both

66: Cheetos Or Fritos?

Cheetos

67: Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Well I'm allergic to nuts and I don't eat sunflower seeds, sooo 😂

68: Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?

No never

69: Ever take dance lessons?

Yes

70: Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

I don't really care honestly, as long as they can help pay bills and have some ambition in life in gemeral

71: Can you curl your tongue?

Yes 😇

72: Ever won a spelling bee?

No

73: Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Of course

74: Own any record albums?

Not yet!

75: Own a record player?

Soon!

76: Regularly burn incense?

Yes

77: Ever been in love?

Yes

78: Who would you like to see in concert? Ghost, Bad Omens, Hozier, BTS

79: What was the last concert you saw?

Panic at the disco back on 2016

80: Hot tea or cold tea?

Hot tea

81: Tea or coffee?

Coffee, iced, extra milk extra sugar please thanks

82: Sugar or snickerdoodles?

Snickerdoodles are god tier

83: Can you swim well?

Well enough

84: Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

Yes

85: Are you patient?

Ehh that could use some work

86: DJ or band, at a wedding?

DJ for sure

87: Ever won a contest?

Not that I remember

88: Ever have plastic surgery?

Not yet

89: Which are better black or green olives?

Don't make me choose

90: Can you knit or crochet?

No but I want to learn to crochet

91: Best room for a fireplace?

Bedroom

92: Do you want to get married?

Maybe

93: If married, how long have you been married?

Single af

94: Who was your HS crush?

He was one of my best friends senior year and nothing ever happened :/ come to find out he almost kissed me one day bc he liked me so much but he never did 🤦🏼‍♀️

95: Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?

No

96: Do you have kids?

Nooo

97: Do you want kids?

NOOO

98: Whats your favorite color?

Green

99: Do you miss anyone right now?

Yes

Hope this gives you some insight! If you wanna know more you're always welcome to ask 😊

[ir0n-moon]

10 questions game

Tagged by: No one, I saw this while stalking a random inactive blog and thought it'd be cool for us to do it

1. What's your phone wallpaper? A photo of my irl boyfriend! Not posting it here for his own privacy but I promise you he looks very hot

2. Favorite singer? Our king of kings and captain of captains, Aurelio Voltaire

3. Favorite band? Nightwish! They honestly changed my life and their album Imaginearum came out at a moment when I needed it the most.

4. Favorite character of all time? Dear fucking lord this is a tough one. Everyone who follows me knows I adore Charles, but he's my favorite in the sense that I want to be with him! Regarding characters whom I relate to or otherwise embody what I'd like to be, there's too many of them to count.

5. Favorite book? A kidlit novel called La Domadora de Miedos by Guadalupe Alemán Lascurain. Not terribly obscure, but I doubt you'll find it outside of Mexico.

6. Favorite movie? Oh god. Again I can't decide on only one from my top four. It's tie between Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), Imaginaerum (2012), The Little Prince (2015), and Kubo and the Two Strings (2016). Although Labyrinth (1986) is steadily climbing its way to have this become a top five lmao

7. Favorite actor/actress? I don't know enough about them to really feel drawn to any in particular tbh

8. Favorite YouTuber? This thing is really set out to be a nightmare for indecisive people right? For fun facts and education I love Ask A Mortician. For recipes I really dig Adam Ragusea and Super Pilopi. For witchcraft/spirituality I like Solitude of Alanna. Gonna stop there cause I also follow a handful of art-oriented channels and I couldn't even begin to choose just one.

9. Do you drink? Nope, but I like taking weed edibles now and then

10. If you were an animal what would you be? A mouse or a rat because I want to be carried inside somebody's pocket

Tagging: @gogomeaty, @twigg96, @the-gall0ws, @pan-flute-skeleton, @amaianita, and @karppy but PLEASE don't feel pressured to do this if you don't feel like it! Also anyone else who wants to join in, just say I tagged you, it'll be fine

[ragingbookdragon]

I posted 3,646 times in 2022

798 posts created (22%)

2,848 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@adazzlingsakura

@dailydccomics

@why-i-love-comics

@jentuckyfriedkhicken

I tagged 1,205 of my posts in 2022

#thorneanswers - 433 posts

#dc - 346 posts

#dc comics - 340 posts

#batfamily - 167 posts

#jason todd - 143 posts

#dc imagine - 129 posts

#dc imagines - 128 posts

#red hood - 127 posts

#green lantern - 117 posts

#batman - 114 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#god u get told too many times as a kid that no one cares and u just forget how to show your passion without saying sorry every fucking min

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

“I don’t give a rat’s ass how badly you want me out of your business,” she griped, cocking her hands on her hips. “I am you mother and as long as I’m alive I’m going to be in your business making sure you’re doing alright.”

Tim’s expression pinched and he couldn’t help but cross his arms over his chest. “Me and the others had it under control.”

“Look me in my eyes and tell me that meta-humans running wild across Gotham City means you had it under control,” she argued, and he glanced at her, meeting her irritated gaze. “You are seventeen going on eighteen, Timothy Jackson Wayne, and while I’m comfortable letting you and your friends go around doing God knows what in other cities, when your ass is in Gotham City, you know damn well you’re supposed to check in and let me or your father know what you’re doing.” She accentuated her point by tipping her head towards the man leaning back against the desk who was merely watching.

“Dad,” he whined, trying to get him to help him out.

His father merely sipped the glass of water in his hand. “Nope, not getting involved.”

She started tapping her foot, a telltale sign that her annoyance was shifting into anger. “Timothy, you’re grou—”

Tim, in a last-ditch effort to save his hide, he pointed at his second eldest sibling and shouted, “Jason snuck Kyle into the manor last night whenever you were out with Damian and dad on the back porch! He left this morning when you were getting ready for work!”

Her eyes went wide, so did Jason’s as he spluttered, “W-what! No, the fuck I didn’t!”

She was already whirling on him. “Jason Peter Todd, did you sneak a boy into this house!”

“I—we—he—” Jason pointed at Dick. “Dickhead was the one who broke the Ming Dynasty vase in the hallway! I saw it!”

“ME?!” Dick shouted, already turning on Cassandra. “Cass is the one who broke the refrigerator after she punched the panel ‘cause it wouldn’t work!”

“Damian skipped school last week,” she countered, glaring at Dick.

Damian’s olive cheeks flushed crimson. “You dare tell on me!” he pointed at Bruce. “Father skipped the gala last Tuesday and said he had a mission to complete but instead he was hanging out with Superman and Wonder Woman!”

She stood bewildered and turned, gaping at Bruce. “Excuse me? You did what?”

Bruce held his hands up, expression already turning panicky as he calmed, “Darling, I can totally explain not attending the gala with you.”

“Oh? You can?” she laughed, eyes narrowing in rage. “So, it wasn’t just to get out of having to deal with all the other socialites? No, not Bruce Wayne. He wouldn’t leave his lovely wife to fend for herself.”

At this point the children were inching their way towards the door and Bruce pointed at them. “They’re getting away!”

She spun, ready to yell at them but they were already gone and when she turned back around, Bruce was gone too, the wall shifting back to its original place; she let out a howl. “OH, ALL OF YOU ARE GROUNDED FOR A MONTH!”

2,143 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

#4

“Can I ask you something?” Soap inquired, sitting close enough for their legs to brush.

“Depending on what you’re about to ask me, be prepared for either sarcasm or cold ruthlessness.”

He nodded. “I can appreciate that.” Gazing at her, he asked, “Do you think you’ll live to be an old woman?”

“Define old woman.”

“Old,” Soap answered. “With grandbabes. In your old age.”

She snorted. “Oh, no. I’m definitely going to be dead by fifty.”

“Why’s that?”

“People who do what we do don’t exactly make it out alive, Soap. I know I won’t make it to die old.”

“Already prepared?”

She nodded. “My affairs are in order.”

He sat back in thought, simply staring at her. “…Will you have any regrets if you go early?”

For a moment, she was quiet, a distant yet love-longing look in her eyes as she gazed over the rim of her laptop to the Lieutenant reading over a set of blacked-out files. “Only few.”

Soap didn’t speak on it, wasn’t going to breach that barrier she and the Lieutenant had built around one another; instead, he smiled and nudged her in the side, quipping, “You’re going to have a giant regret if you go before Ghost, aye?”

She barked a laugh as Ghost looked up and glared at them. “Let me tell you something, if I die before Ghost, that means I have a limited amount of time before he gets there too to set up a room of traps for him to fall in.”

“I don’t think the big man upstairs is going to let that go.”

“Oh we’re all going to hell, Soap, there’s no doubt about that.”

“If anyone’s going to hell, it’s you, love,” Ghost remarked, going back to his files. “But only for being a witch.”

“Asshat,” she griped, throwing a pen at him, which he caught.

Soap looked between them and asked, “Why haven’t you two just married already?”

Ghost looked up and gestured at her. “I tried. Gollum ate the ring and told me to fuck off.”

“I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING ME GOLLUM! AND NO, YOU DROPPED THE RING OFF THE PIER!”

“It was your fault.”

“IT WAS NOT!”

Soap grinned and rose from his seat, walking off as they started arguing and Price simply rubbed his temples. “Why do you do that?”

“Because if I have to suffer a Brit and an American on the same team, I’m going to make amusement somewhere.”

2,208 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#3

Is Jason going to call Bruce dad to his face? No, no he’s not.

Is Jason going to defend Bruce with “My dad—” and beat the shit outta anyone who talks bad about him when Bruce isn’t there? Yes. Yes he will.

3,670 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

#2

Soap reclined against the back of the metal wall of the plane, eyes dragging from each member of the team until they landed on her. She, oddly enough wasn’t sitting like the others were, contemplating the mission and the risks. In her hands was a small book, about the size of a cigarette holder, perhaps a religious book, but he’d never known her to pray or be religious outright; then again, she wasn’t very open about many things of herself either.

Her eyes drew along the pages, quietly turning them, occasionally shifting with the movement of the plane and he heard lowly, “Keep staring at her like that and she’ll think you like her.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes and merely retorted, “Would that be such a bad thing, Lt.?”

Ghost chuckled. “She’ll eat your heart out, Soap.”

“If it’s her, that doesn’t sound like a bad way to go.” He shifted his foot and tapped along the ground, loud enough for her to cock an eyebrow to acknowledge the motion. “Whatcha reading?”

She flipped a page. “A book detailing the capture, trials, and deaths of women during the Salem Witch Trials.”

Soap blinked, eyebrows furrowing together. “…Why?”

“She’s tryna figure out why they didn’t catch her back then,” Ghost chirped and her eyes rose from the page to meet his, knowing he was smirking behind that stupid mask of his.

“Don’t take the bait,” Price muttered beside her, arms crossed over his chest, and she was almost prepared to let it go. But, she also remembered that Ghost ate the last of her chocolate chip poptarts before they left.

She went back to her book and rattled off, “Ghost can’t play golf. We went to a putt-putt one time and I’ve never seen a man so competent in the art of war be so terrible at hitting a ball.”

Ghost spluttered as Soap snickered.

“He snores like an old dog and drools in his sleep.” She flipped another page. “One time we were on a mission in Baghdad, and he wasn’t paying attention and ran into a wall. Broke his radio from the impact.”

“I did not,” Ghost hissed.

“He cried watching Where The Red Fern Grows.”

“WHO WOULDN’T?!” he snapped. “SHE DIES OF A BROKEN HEART AFTER HER BROTHER!”

“One time he ate a box of fiber bars to recover from a hangover and he shit himself in the middle of the store.”

“Alright! I get it! I’m sorry!” he griped and she smiled to herself as she quieted down and went back to her book.

For a few moments, silence enveloped the group in the plane, then Soap asked, “Did you really shit yourself?”

“Shut. Up.”

4,545 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I need everyone to stop what ur doing and go google Betty White. Rn. Go.

9,034 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

‘Ell I’ll be damned

[finniestoncrane]

For the anonymous loveshare to you dear Finnie,

I stumbled upon your blog months ago after I replayed the Arkham series when it was on sale on Steam, and I finally was able to play Arkham Knight for the first time. It wasn't until I read one of your Riddler fics that it clicked in my mind that I was filthy feral for the rat man and then it moved onto his other iterations (looking SPECIFICALLY at Capullo Riddler that disgusting little glob I just want to let him do whatever to me) and then to your other writings and oh my god I can't stop loving your work and how you write and the way you are so unashamedly horny.

I want to send you all the love, kisses, hugs, even my little doodles of Eddie, whatever you'll accept for the amazing work you do and how unapologetic you are. Thank you for dropkicking me facefirst back into my Batman obsession and letting me enjoy, even anonymously, being a dirty little whore for Batman Villains through your beautiful writing and thirst posts. I've had a rough year, and you brought moments of glee to someone (and many others) who needed it.

(Also I am not a sexual person, I have a low libido, but you have made me a desperate mess and opened my vanilla eyes. Thank you from both my heart and cooch)

Lots of love to you, marvelous, fantastic Finnie, and I hope you keep enjoying the work you put out because it is a wonderful as you.

You're amazing and I hope everyone keeps sending you love and praise. You deserve it all!

💚💚💚

anon ;-; this is SO NICE ok omg

i am so unbelievably touched to think i helped you discover your love for him, it is my aim to make him everyone's silly little f/o BUT TO GET SOMEONE ON BOARD WITH CAPULLO TOO!? he's my second favourite and i would do filthy things to him and set back feminism for his love u-u

and thank you, i spent like my whole life being repressed, i have a whole lot of backed up horny to get out 💚

i'll take love and kisses and hugs and DEFINITELY doodles if you have them 👀

but urgh anon that's enough for me, to know that my stupid little fics made someone happy, and anyone is fine to be anonymous!! it's the thoughts that count (and make me thirsty lmao) so thank you so much ;-; i hope that your year going forward is wonderful and precious and that every moment of it is either exceptional or just ok at least 💚

(also honestly it's so nice to hear that you're finding yourself!! low libido or high libido, we're all allowed to love ourselves and have the exact amount of pleasure we require)

[sweaterrat]

Take 2 for the shipname ask:

---------

I spent like 3 hours last night looking up names that mean purple, purple flowers, purple birds, then purple animals, then anything purple, then anything techy because God I was going crazy

I'm being serious about how much time I spent xd

My screenshot gallery:

Among the options that I somewhat liked, and that survived the "is this already in use?" Test:

Viox / Vioxel (Violet Voxel)

Virteria (Virtual Wisteria)

Luntech (Luna Technology)

Asteris (Aster Iris, has like 3 posts but is acceptable)

Iritech (Iris Technology)

Lunaster ( Luna Aster. one post, acceptable)

Lunairis /Luniris (Luna Iris, two posts, acceptable)

Lunatello (Oldfashioned but works)

Luntex (Luna LaTeX, a techy stuff thing)

(Rip Wistar, Viotech which is a shoe, Viris which was funny bc Virus, Violuna which was cute but is a real ship, and a couple more I forgot. I can show you my full list if you want lol)

I also thought of Lunavender (Luna Lavender) but I feel like lavender is *your* flower, you know? So I don't want to use it, since it's short form would be Lunlav/Lavlun and that's a bit too close to lemlav // Edit: if you dont mind the reuse of the flower, it can be shortened to Lunav to avoid the similarity problem

Sooo, which one(s) do you like? I'd love to hear your opinions, or any ideas you may have, I broke my lil brain trying to make this work, you can see on my blog me going crazy and even dreaming about the shipnames xd

I should make a poll on my blog. Would you reblog it so it gets more than like 2 votes?

The name of the oc will probs be luna but I have other options. But that's a topic for another ask! This one is long (what is it with me and long asks?)

Oh my! So many choices !!

Personally, I like Lunaster & Lunatello! If I spelt it right— aslo, don’t think too hard abt it ^^ LemLav & BlueBags came to me in like 2 seconds lol

Sorry it took so long to respond! I was occupied! 💛💛 thank you kindly for your patience ^^

— Your Local Sweater Rat 🍋

[lifeafteratransplant]

Relationships, While Dealing With Health Issues

Dating is hard, marriage is even harder, and making friends as adults sucks. Add health problems into the mix and it gets 10 times worse (in my experience) My marriage is strong, but since our engagement, we’ve dealt with one issue after another when it comes to my health. 

I didn’t have many boyfriends when I was growing up, I had my first love, I met him in the 8thgrade, (oh my god typing this out sounds so corny) but I really thought he was my first love at the time, he didn’t give a rats ass about my diabetes. I only saw him at summer camp, and a handful of times after that. We went to the movies, the fair, his house and met his mom and sister and brother. We were a couple for like 8 months and in the 8th grace that is quite the accomplishment. His name was Joey. Oh, how life was so easy back then! 

Highschool, I had a couple of boyfriends, never really lasted very long there either. I was so afraid of showing my true self people, most of my high school boyfriends didn’t even know I had diabetes. I made sure to take my blood sugars and insulin shots in the bathroom, and kind of ate whatever I wanted to hide the fact that I really should be counting my carbs. (BAD KARLI) It was the teenage urge to fit in. 

Now in my twenties, I went on plenty of dates, had a couple guys break my heart, and couple guys ghost me, and I ghosted a few of them (again, BAD KARLI) and once again I hid the fact that I had health issues. I never thought about oh what if this works out, I am going to have to drop this bomb on them. 

I had one serious boyfriend, and I thought to myself that he was it, so I laid it all on the line, I told him everything about myself. He didn’t care, and was super supportive, but what he didn’t know is that I was NOT taking care of myself. I was skipping blood sugar checks, eating whatever the hell I wanted and not keeping track of anything. This relationship lasted 4 months. He broke up with me, by changing his relationship status over Facebook and moving to Kentucky shortly after that. Not because of my health but because of other things, that had to do with me (which I blame my health anxiety for) 

When it came to giving my all to a relationship, I just couldn’t do it. I was always so scared that the person would leave as soon as I showed them my scars, and my baggage. Until I met my husband. Oh, my sweet husband. 

Frederick is angel when it comes to dealing with my health. When we first started dating, I did the same things I was prone to do, but this man peeled back my layers one at a time. I still was not taking care of myself to the best of my ability, but I was doing better, but slipping up and trying to get back on track. What I didn’t tell him was how bad my diabetes had gotten, I secretly worked on that myself and didn’t ask for help. Hell, I hid it from my parents too. I was in too deep to ask for help, or so I thought. 

When I had my near-death experience (read my first blog post and you’ll understand what I am talking about) It all came to light, my husband even admitted to me that he thought about calling off our engagement. I honestly would not have blamed him, not only was I hurting myself I was hurting everyone around me. I knew I was being selfish; I knew I was killing myself slowly. I didn’t care, I just had the undeniable urge to be “normal.” 

A lot of my issues stemmed from my lack of education of my disease. I knew what to do when I first got diagnosed, and when my body started changing, I was not taught properly on how to adapt to those changes, and how that would affect my diabetes. Everyone knows that hormones change everything. As my body was changing that meant that I had to start making changes to the way I was managing my diabetes. Like changing my insulin dosages, how many carbs per meal I can eat, which types of insulin I needed to take, and so forth. I honestly didn’t get a lot of my questions answered until I moved to North Dakota, and I was 25 years old. 

Another thing that I struggled with was feeling like I was a burden to those around me. I did not want people to feel like they had to “take care” of me. That is why I hid a lot of my issues and tried to deal with them in private. I didn’t want people to worry about if I was ok or not. There is so much that I didn’t tell people and that is one of my biggest regrets in life. I really wish that when I was younger, I took care of myself and trusted in the people around me to help me. I never wanted to feel judged. 

Moral of the story is that, embrace who you are. Love yourself and you will attract the kind of love that you give yourself. When you find “your” people, they will lift you up when you’re weak, they will rally with you when you’re winning, and they will be your biggest supporters when things get hard. It took me a long time to realize that, and lots of failed relationships, and friendships. 

I’m so glad I found “my” people, and learned to accept myself for how God made me.

Much love, 

Karli

[spark-of-future]

“They’ve been quiet, recently...”

[thefanficmonster]

Hidden Powers

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Abuse allegations, Swearing, Mild melancholy

Genre: Humor, SLIGHT Angst, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic) - Sorry the genres are all over the place

Summary: A misconception or misunderstanding turned rumor threatens to bring down Corpse’s entire career, but luckily, Y/N knows better than to stand aside and let it happen.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so sorry for the long wait but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the fic if you happen to come across it. Love, Vy ❤

“Fuck this game!“ Y/N yells out in frustration as she is met with the screen informing her of her failure - aka death - for the fifth time in the past hour. “Has anyone ever even passed night four? I’m sure the king of FNAF Markiplier has but I’m also sure he hasn’t done it one a livestream! And my big mouth really had to go ahead and swear not to end this stream until I pass this God forsaken night, ughhh!“

Typically, Y/N’s quite the fearful rat when playing horror games, especially when home alone like right now, but this FNAF game has gradually turned her into a raging gamer instead. Not raging as in kicking ass at the game but as in the game kicking the ass of her sanity. She’s been struggling with this specific night for a while - the better half of her previous stream and an hour into today’s. Well, seeing how little progress she’s making with each try, it’s gonna be way more than an hour into today’s livestream as well. She’ll be lucky if she manages to get past it before hitting the three hour mark or just rage quitting which she’s bound to do eventually if her gameplay keeps going at this rate.

Another try later, she’s once again jumpscared into a failure screen that’s practically mocking her at this point. Throwing her arms above her head, Y/N sighs heavily, the frustration she’s harboring becoming more and more evident in her body language. “You know what, I need a break. Lemme see what you guys are saying in the chat.”

Scrolling through comments upon comments greeting her, sending her compliments and some trolling her with some hateful remarks she comes across a question which makes her brows furrow. That same question is repeated by a few other people but they fly by so quickly she doesn’t manage to catch the people’s usernames.

“A bruise on my arm? Where?“ She says out loud as she inspects both her arms, looking for what her chat had been talking about. That’s when her eyes eyes land on the purple mark on the skin just above her right elbow. She laughs, “Oh this? I know I’m a clumsy person but Corpse is to blame for this one.“

Little does the girl know, her boyfriend, who’s currently in his own apartment instead of camping out at hers, is watching this very stream, laughing his ass off remembering how that bruise came to be.

His laughter is cut short though when he catches glimpse of Y/N’s chat which suddenly floods with concern from her fans - assumptions and allegations of him being an abusive boyfriend starting to pollute the previously cheerful comment section. His stomach turns, for many reasons, each reason making it tighten in a worse and more painful knot. 

The first blow comes from people actually coming up with such a thing. How could they even allow their minds to wander to such a dark and disgusting place where he’d be even remotely an abuser.

The second blow to his heart is delivered by the fact that people believed it. How and why could people believe such an absurd idea?! How low did these people think of him? What kind of piece of shit did he come off as to some people?

And the third is the mental image the idea gives him. It’s such a fucked up scene, he can’t even conjure it up, he can’t mentally picture it. Hell, he could and would never even raise his voice at Y/N. He’d never dare upset her or hurt her feelings let alone hurt her....like that!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!“ Y/N’s gasp reaches him as though it was meant to fish him out of the downward spiral he started going down with these overwhelmingly dark thoughts, “What’s with this nonsense some of y’all are spewing in the chat?!“ She sounds downright angry and irritated, ready to fight whoever will continue spreading these rumors about her lovely boyfriend whom she absolutely adores. “Guys, I mean, seriously?! Do you have any idea what you’re talking about and WHO you’re talking about? Do we have the same Corpse in mind here? I doubt we do - you have some villainized, abusive version, and I have the loving boyfriend who tried to teach me how to handle a lightsaber so we can have a lightsaber fight and my dumbass used my own weapon against me. Yeah, I was pretty salty Corpse laughed his heart out while I was cringing in pain, but man, you guys take it farther than the farthest.“ Seeing his sweet, kind and non-confrontational girlfriend who always avoids conflict at all costs turn into this protective lioness because someone is talking shit about him is heartwarming and scary at the same time. “Y’all better shut the hole where these fucked up rumors surfaced from before you get one of the most innocent, loving and caring individuals in hot water for the BS you came up with! Copy? You better.“

Corpse has never in his entire life seen the topic of a stream chat change so quickly, the rumor never once getting brought up again.

That’s some serious power right there - power he never knew Y/N possessed because of her cute and soft exterior. Now he knows what kinda beast of a woman he’s dating - one prepared to do anything to protect him, no matter who from. And damn does that make him feel emotional and loved despite the shit that just happened. She can make him forget all the bad within the blink of an eye - that too is another superpower of hers, but this one he’s known about from the very start.

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[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 16: Summertime Nightmares (Alt prompt: Consolation/advice)

AO3

Prev

The following week was the last of the school year. And it was...weird to say the least. Some of her classmates were upset that she hadn’t been the one to tell them. Many of them (most) assumed that she’d known and just hadn’t told them. She didn’t want to argue with them and she knew her dad hadn’t announced her existence in Gotham yet, so she just pointed out the fact that the Wayne family was very private.

That mostly worked. Lila kept poking though, insisting that Marinette would have told them if she trusted them. Nino disagreed, which shocked Marinette. He usually believed Lila, or at least he hadn’t ever openly gone against her before. But not this time. This time, he insisted that Marinette trusted them and it was probably her dad who asked her not to say anything. While wrong, Marinette didn’t disagree. She’d let her dad take the fall for this one. Alya though...she wasn’t taking it well. She thought Marinette should have told her ages ago. If she had known before Lila came, maybe she would have told Alya. But Alya had been more lax on what she posts on the Ladyblog since Lila’s arrival. She’d done less research, and was posting things not related to Ladybug and Chat Noir. While that wouldn’t usually bother her, Marinette did not want her newly discovered family to be the next big story on Alya’s blog.

So she basically just kept her head down, kept quiet at the class hangouts. And now school was finally out for the summer. It would be a little over two months with no Lila. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Marinette walks into the bakery and smiles widely at her Maman and Papa.

“Hello honey, how are you?” Her Maman asks, sliding a croissant into her hands.

“I’m fine, Maman.” She says, mentally preparing herself to ask what she’d been avoiding. Her dad had offered to let her stay in Gotham for the summer. It was both a chance to bond, and a chance for him to train her a little so that she could fight better, help her make a case against Hawkmoth, maybe even find his identity. He also wanted to give her a break. He thought that taking a step away from Paris, from always policing her emotions, was in her best interest. She agreed, but she still hadn’t talked to her Maman. Or her Papa.

“Bruce called.” Her Papa says. Marinette freezes. He wasn’t supposed to call yet! “Asked if we’d made a decision about letting you go to Gotham for the summer.” Rats.

“I was gonna talk to you guys today! I didn’t wanna upset you. I love you guys so much, but I also really wanna spend time with the other half of my family because I just met them and we haven’t really had a chance to bond or get to know each other and-”

“Honey, we understand.” Her Maman says, cutting off her ramble with a smile. Marinette blinks.

“Really?” She asks in a small voice. She didn’t want to hurt them. Her Maman smiles and relief floods her body.

“Of course honey. It would also give you a chance to not deal with constant akuma attacks.” She says. Marinette squeals in excitement, running over and wrapping her parents in a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She yells. Watch out Gotham, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne is coming back!

---

“Why hasn’t Marinette answered yet? She’s always down for a class picnic.” Alya says with a pout. Lila suppresses an eye roll, opting instead for a worried frown.

“Do you think she’s mad at you?” She prompts, knowing exactly why the little brat wasn’t answering. She was supposed to be on a plane right about now. Lila had borrowed Alya’s phone the day before (to make sure Marinette hadn’t tried to say anything about her again) when she saw the text. Marinette would be spending the entire summer in Gotham.

Lila, in a moment of what was surely pure excellence, deleted the text. It was perfect! Alya wouldn’t know Marinette had left and Marinette would be waiting for a text from her stupid BFF. But Lila had thought of that too. She’d changed the phone number on Marinette’s contact in Alya’s phone. It was now set to go to a fake number in a messaging app that Lila spent €1 on each month. It was worth it though, it’d definitely come in handy before. And now all she had to do was wait. Sure Marinette could always text Alya first, but Lila had heard too many times that Alya usually reached out first. Probably because of how much of a scatterbrain Marinette is.

“Why would she be mad at me?” Alya asks with a nervous smile. Hook, line and sinker. Lila frowns and places a hand on Alya’s arm in a faux attempt at reassurance.

“I didn’t wanna say anything, I really shouldn’t.” She says, shaking her head.

“Please. I’ll owe you one!” Alya insists, just as Lila had hoped. This would be a key part of her plan later on. Once Marinette has been silent for a few weeks.

“Well...okay. I heard her talking to Adrien the other day.” Lil starts, using the only other person who could go against her (but won’t!) “She said- she said she couldn’t trust you!” Alya flinches back as if she was hit.

“She said that?” She asks in a small voice. Lila nods sadly, celebrating on the inside. She’d be able to use this summer, while Marinette is away, to finally take everything away from that no good brat. It would be glorious.

---

Marinette was moments away from committing a murder. She was only going to do it because she knew for a fact that she’d get away with it. With a singular pout, she’d have the world’s greatest detective on her side. She was certain of it.

“Miss Marinette please put down the knife. I assure you prison is not lovely this time of year.” Alfred says with a sigh as he walks into the kitchen.

“Then tell Dick to get out of the kitchen!” She complains, pointing at her oldest brother who was currently covered in frosting and flour. She was trying to make cupcakes for after dinner, since she knew how much Dick likes sweets. She was trying to do something nice. And when Dick came into the kitchen, claiming he just wanted to spend time with his baby sister, Marinette let him stay. Because she loves her brother, she does.

But somehow in the two minutes that he was in the kitchen, he managed to dump the entire canister of flour. Not good, but she’d already baked the cupcakes so it wasn’t the end of the world. But then somehow, he’d managed to dump the entire mixing bowl of frosting. The entire thing. She had no clue how he had managed to do that, considering the fact it was frosting. It didn’t exactly run smoothly out of a bowl. It’s supposed to be able to hold its shape. Honestly, it was a mystery.

“Master Dick, you know that you are not allowed in the kitchen.” Alfred says with a frown. Dick pouts.

“I just wanted to spend some time with Mari.” He mumbles. Marinette almost regrets wanting to kill him. Until she watches as he wipes some of the frosting off of his head and eats it. Yeah, she doesn’t regret it anymore...but she does still love him.

“Okay, we’ll definitely have to spend more time together later. But for right now please go take a shower or something. I need to make more frosting and I do not trust you to be in the room when I do.” Marinette says exasperatedly. Dick sighs but leaves. Marinette puffs out her cheeks, giving Alfred a look.

“Yes?” He asks, his lips quirked up slightly.

“I honestly don’t know how you deal with them sometimes.” She grumbles before grabbing a new bowl. The cupcakes aren’t going to decorate themselves.

---

Jason huffs, annoyed that he’d been talked into staying at the manor with Marinette. He wasn’t mad at Marinette, he would do just about anything for the kid. Didn’t mean he wanted to stay at the manor just to make sure she didn’t sneak onto patrol. She’d assured them that she was too tired to try anything, but Bruce hadn’t believed her. Thus, Jason stuck at the manor.

But the kid had made a shit ton of cupcakes and Jason had a copy of his favorite book, so the night wouldn’t be too bad. After a few hours lounging in one of the rooms near Marinette’s, Jason starts to nod off. He’s about to welcome the rest, knowing everyone would be back from patrol soon, when he’s yanked from sleep by an ear piercing scream. Shit.

---

Marinette blinks as she looks around. Oh god. No, no please don’t let this be real. She chokes out a sob as she looks around her. Paris was once again completely underwater. The Eiffel tower was split in half. Hands shaking, she glances up and sees the moon. Or, what’s left of it. She moans in distress, letting her tears fall freely. She tries to breathe, but it won’t come. She’s panicking now, trying to ignore the burn in her chest as she sees the disaster around her. The terror around her. The destruction. She clutches her throat, trying to force her body to breathe. Force herself to suck in air, to be okay.

“Oh, Marinette, I see you’ve decided to join us again.” A familiar voice says. She tenses, slowly turning and looking behind her. Standing in front of her, just as she remembered him, was Chat Blanc. She should’ve known. She should’ve known that just because it was okay for a couple days didn’t mean it would stay okay. She should’ve tried harder to find Bunnix, should’ve tried to find a way to stop Adrien from finding out. Movement by Chat Blanc’s feet catches her attention and she glances down, regretting it immediately.

“What have you done?” She asks, rushing forward and falling to her knees, desperately trying to stop her little brother from bleeding out. “What have you done?” She yells, glaring at Chat Blanc through her tears. Her hands shake as she puts pressure on the wound, using Damian’s cape in an attempt to stop the blood.

“Marinette-” He tries to say, and she just shakes her head, hating that there’s blood coming out of his mouth. She knows what that means. She knows that this is bad. And there are no hospitals anymore. Everything is underwater. Everything except the three of them.

“Hey no, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you little brother.” She chokes out, trying to smile at him.

“Father,” He manages to say, his voice barely audible. “Help him.”

“No, no, please. Please don’t leave me! Please, no, no!” She screams, trying to wake him back up, trying to force him to get back up. He couldn’t die like this. He couldn’t die at all. She just found him. And now she’s lost him.

“Now we can be together forever Marinette.” Chat Blanc says, finally speaking up. She glares at him and his stupid smirk. The smirk that had haunted her since the first time she saw the white suit.

“I don’t want anything to do with you! You killed my brother!” She screams. Glancing down at her shaking hands, she can’t help but notice they’re covered in blood. She shudders, trying hard not to throw up.

“Brothers, actually.” He quips. She snaps her gaze back to him.

“What?” She hisses, standing so that she can hopefully run and get to one of her brothers before it’s too late. She can’t lose all of them. She can’t. He casually steps to the side, revealing her other brothers. But none of them are moving. Cass is also lying with them, but she’s not moving either. Gone. All of her siblings. And it was all her fault. She let Adrien know her identity. She didn’t try to fix that mistake and this is what happened. She lost every- her dad. Damian said- She turns and runs away from Chat Blanc, scanning the horizon and trying to stay as together as possible. She had to try. She could still save her dad. She could still help him. As she looks around, she manages to spot his cowl. Rushing towards it, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Marinette?” He says, looking at her with a frown. She scans him for injuries, relieved that he just had a few small wounds. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

“I’m so sorry dad.” She whimpers, throwing her arms around him. He holds her for a moment before pulling away.

“Marinette, we have to go. We can’t stay here. It’s only a matter of time before-” He stops talking and his face morphs into the most horrified, anguish filled face that Marinette had ever seen. Right before he starts to crumble into ash.

“No!” She screams, horror and grief washing over her in waves. She was all alone and it was all her fault. And now she was going to die too.

---

“Come on Pixie, wake up kid. Come on, it’s okay, I’m here. Jay’s here.” A familiar voice soothes. Marinette stops thrashing, coughing slightly as she realizes the loud noise had been coming from her. She’d been screaming. Jay’s here? But then- She immediately opens her eyes, sobbing in relief when she sees Jason looking at her. No blood. Okay. She lunges forward and wraps her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She cries. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh kid, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He whispers, holding her close. They sit like that for a few minutes, until a knock on the door frame makes her reluctantly pull back. She glances over and a new wave of tears immediately appears. She launches herself off the bed and runs into her dad’s arms, sobbing once more.

“Jason, what happened?” He asks quietly, she knows that Jason doesn’t know, but she doesn’t answer for him. She can’t. All she can do is cry in her dad’s arms, relieved that she could cry. That her nightmare didn’t end with her almost being akumatized like it had before.

“No clue. Heard her scream so I ran in here, but she was asleep. Once she woke up she started crying and apologizing.” Jason says softly, probably for her benefit. She tries hard to remind herself that the nightmare didn’t mean anything. Her family wouldn’t be hurt because of her.

“Is everyone okay? Damian and Tim and Dick?” She asks, still buried in her dad’s arms. She’d ask about Cass, but she was still in Hong Kong. Marinette made a mental note to text her later.

“Everyone’s fine. Did you- do you want to talk about it?” He asks, and she almost agrees. Maybe it would be better to finally tell someone about Chat Blanc. To share that burden with someone else. But...maybe not her dad. Especially not since Adrien actively knows her identity and she wouldn’t be opposed to dating the boy in the future.

“I- er, um.” is all she manages to say before shaking her head. She won’t talk to her dad about this, and she doesn’t want to leave his arms right now. Not while she feels safe. She can almost hear him whispering to Jason, but she knows he’s trying not to let her hear, so she ignores them and instead wraps her arms around him tighter.

“Can I go get you a glass of water? Maybe a cookie for Tikki?” Her dad asks after a few moments of whispering with Jason. Marinette frowns. She didn’t want to be left alone. Not yet.

“I’ll stay with ya Pixie Pop.” Jason says, almost as if he had read her mind. She nods, giving her dad one final squeeze before walking back over to the bed and climbing up, letting Jason wrap her in a hug.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Her dad says before walking away. The silence only lasts a beat.

“You wanna tell your big brother why you woke up screamin’?” He asks. Marinette squeezes her eyes shut, desperate to get rid of the images from her nightmare.

“Nightmare.” She says simply. Jason chuckles.

“Kinda figured that part out Pix.”

“I’ve had it before.” She starts, aware of how her voice shakes. “But this time it was a lot worse. This time, I wasn’t the one who died.”

“What could be worse than dyin?” Jason asks, though she can tell by his tone that he knows. He knows what’s worse than dying.

“Watching all of you die.” She says simply. His hug tightens and she lets out a shaky breath, desperately wiping at her tears. “That’s not even the worst part Jay.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna.” He says softly.

“I know.” She says. “A version of it has happened. In a different timeline. That’s the worse part. Luckily when I had to go save that timeline, I didn’t know you guys. So you weren’t caught in the middle of everything. But in my nightmare, since you know about me and- and you guys just wanted to help but no one can win against that. No one. It was so hard to beat him when it actually happened. But the dream. It was awful.” There’s silence as he just holds her, lets her know he’s there without saying it. She’s so thankful for her family. For her brothers.

“Here’s your water.” Her dad says. She finally sits up and looks at him, noting the way his face is creased in worry. She manages a small smile.

“Thanks dad.” She says, her smile growing slightly as his face begins to relax.

“Mari! You’re still up?” Dick says, walking into the room. She blinks at him in confusion, not expecting him to just walk in. She watches as he looks between everyone else, clearly putting it together that something was wrong. He frowns, before his face stretches back into a grin. “Come on, bring all your pillows and blankets and we’ll have a Disney movie marathon until we fall asleep.” He directs, running out of the room to presumably get his own materials for the movie marathon.

“You don’t have to.” Her dad reassures her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shrugs.

“Might as well. I know I’ll definitely not be able to sleep anymore tonight.” She says, grabbing a couple pillows and her blanket, dragging it with her to the movie room. Leave it to her brothers to have a way to help her feel better after a nightmare. Marinette smiles to herself, once again relieved that she was in Gotham.

Next

Masterlist

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

[danidrabbles]

Cowboy Like Me - Part One

Story Summary: HERE.

Chapter Summary: Three months after your arrival at Statesman’s Kentucky department, Jack and yourself are sent out on your first assignment together. You find out you didn’t know your partner as well as you thought you did, while Jack is forced to confront the decisions he made one year prior.

Rating: M ......for now.

Word Count: 11.2k (I know...) (also, the irony of this blog being named danidrabbles vs. this word count is not lost on me, trust me)

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence (mentions and use of weapons, mentions of death and murder), alcohol, innuendo but no smut, feeeelings, way too many creative liberties with / assumptions about the art world - I think that’s it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Notes: Absolutely terrifying to share my child in fanfic form with the world, but here we are... This story (even this first chapter) has known many versions, but this final one would not have been here if it hadn’t been for Astrid @javier-pena​, who quite literally dragged me through this with her constant encouragement and unlimited enthusiasm. Please read her wonderful Mandalorian fic ‘The Hunt’. Astrid, I’m tipping my imaginary cowboy hat down to say that I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I also want to mention @frannyzooey​ and @jura-moon​ who, with their stories, have inspired me endlessly and relit the writing flame within me that had gone out. Thank you!

PART ONE: LONDON.

“No, wait,” you whisper, and you hold two fingers up to emphasise your words.

“Wasn’t gonna do anything,” Jack hisses back.

The two of you are taking cover behind a broad column, face to face to fit the space together. The footsteps to your side stop, and then there’s the sound of hushed voices, too soft to make out what they’re saying. There are five of them, that much you know, all equipped with a gun.

You nod down at the hand resting on the holster under his arm, raising an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“Not yet,” he clarifies with a sigh. “But hiding here ain’t it… Eventually, it’s only gonna expose us more.”

“We’ve got to wait,” you say. “Listen, they’re eager, right? They’ll come to us, and if we wait for them to come to us, we can take them out in close quarters instead of at long range.” Your head perks up at the soft sounds coming from the other side of the room.

“That’d be a perfect idea if you had your little knives and I had my whip, but we gotta take ‘em out with these,” he reminds you, holding his gun up for you to see. “Remember?”

You sigh, palming the gun still sheathed in the holster on your hip. He’s right, you acknowledge with a nod, it is different without your weapons of choice. “What about visibility?”

Above you, there’s a light flickering on and off, colouring your surroundings in bright red at steady intervals, forcing your eyes to refocus every time colour bleeds back into the room.

“Think it’s a disadvantage for all of us,” he provides.

The sound of footsteps is back, this time almost rhythmical, on your left and right. “They’re probably splitting up,” you whisper, listening again before you add, “Three on the left, two on the right? Maybe?”

He listens, too. “Sounds about right.” Then, he grins. “How ‘bout a little competition, hmm? First one to take out three wins.”

Your face falls and you manage a sharp, “Jack, no,” but shit—  He’s already rounding the corner. You have no choice but to come out of hiding to cover him, following only a second after he emerges from behind the column. The sight of the both of you, guns raised, fills the room with silence, until Jack fires a warning shot, which makes the footsteps turn frantic. There’s a sound to your left, and you turn, quickly firing at one of your assailants who has their gun pointed at Jack’s back, hitting them right in the chest.

Jack’s head whips around in surprise. “Thank you, darlin’,” he says, an appreciative smile apparent in-between the flickers of light. “But that one was on my side, so that makes the score one to zero in my favor.”

“All I heard was, ‘First one to take out three wins’, nothing about sides,” you counter. “Which would make it one to zero in my favor.”

“Hmm,” is all he says, and it sounds far too amused.

“What’s that?”

“S’nothing, I just… knew you’d play along if I made you.”

You roll your eyes at his remark, then refocus, scanning your surroundings. There’s crates, columns, some furniture; plenty of places to obscure you from view. You can’t see a thing during the little intervals where the lights aren’t on and it makes you feel dazed, like you’re moving in slow-motion. There’s also no footsteps, so you decide that forcing everyone to the back of the room by checking the hiding places is probably the best course of action, as it will eventually leave them cornered, easier targets. Turning to convey your plans to your partner, you find him gone from your side.

Then there’s a grunt, and a thud, and then Jack’s voice echoes through the room, “One-one.”

Before you can even think of replying, a shot flies over your shoulder, and you dive behind a large crate. You look over the top with narrow eyes, spotting someone hanging from the ceiling. It’s a smart move in theory, but only if you don’t miss; it draws attention, reveals your position. You wait, and when no shot follows, you look over the crate again, seeing the person who just shot at you struggle with their weapon.

You raise your gun, take your aim and hit them in the chest at the exact same moment as the room lights up. Another shot rings out behind you, followed by a groan, and you immediately turn towards the sound. You find Jack standing there, looking far too proud and with a body slung over one of the chairs behind you.

“Thought I’d return the favor and make things exciting,” he says. “That’s two-to-two.”

You offer him a short, fake smile, then move through the room with him. It’s nearly impossible, with Jack wedging himself into your path to be the first to check your corners on account of the current score, and after some frantic shuffling from your target, and some missed shots from you and Jack, there’s only one spot left. You will yourself to focus on the far corner of the room, cross stepping closer and closer with Jack hot on your heels.

“You’re paying attention, right?” Jack says, picking up his step again until he’s slightly ahead of you. You can see the grin on his face form between the flickers of the lights overhead. “’‘Cause I would just hate for you to lose, doll.”

God, you hadn’t even agreed to participate in this pointless bet, but you can’t help but think about how satisfying it would be to wipe that grin right off his face when you win…

Suddenly there’s a shuffle from behind the couch in front of you, followed by a click, and it makes you both duck just before two shots come your way in quick succession. Jack’s hand closes over your upper arm, dragging you behind the fallen table he’s found cover behind, and you’re both silent for a second to listen to more shuffling from your target’s hiding place, followed by two more shots.

“Looks like we’ve successfully trapped our rat in the corner,” Jack says, voice low.

You nod. “Okay, I’ll go, you c—”

“Oh, hell no.” Jack chuckles softly. “Nice try, but I ain’t handin’ you the victory on a silver platter like that.”

Your shoulders drop with a sigh, “You know I don’t actually care about this bet, right? Just need you to cover me.”

He makes a face, then pulls another 10-bullet magazine from the clip around his waist as he thinks. After sliding it into place and pulling his hand back overtop the weapon, a tick confirms the reloading of his gun, and he gives you a quick nod.

“I’m going to need verbal confir—”

“Just fuckin’ go. I’ll cover you.”

Before he can change his mind, or do something decidedly Jack-ish, you step over his body, staying low, as you sneak out of hiding on the opposite side of the table during a moment where the room is covered in darkness. Behind you, you hear Jack mutter a soft curse before he begins shooting in the general direction of where the shots had originated earlier.

You approach carefully, operating out of sight. When you’re close enough, you press your back up against the nearest column. Quickly checking your gun between the flickering lights, you nod to yourself, then hold it close to you as you start to count when your distracted opponent fires back at Jack.

One, two, three…

four, five…

six.

Bingo.

You approach the couch, pointing your gun over it. The man behind it immediately raises his own weapon at you, aims for your chest and fires, but all that follows is a soft click, accompanied by a look of horror on his face at the realization he’s emptied his magazine.

In the split-second you contemplate your options, the bet entering your thoughts again, Jack comes up to stand beside you. You take him in from the corner of your eye. He’s not looking at you but has his gun still firmly held in both hands. When you turn slightly to look up at him, your eyes meet, and you’re sure that in that moment, the exact same thought crosses your minds at the exact same time. You both point your gun down and pull the trigger.

It’s impossible to tell who lands the kill shot in the end.

Jack scoffs, hands dropping to his sides with a shake of his head. “Christ, you liar.”

You’re about to retort when you hear it: a click behind you.

The realization makes your eyes widen, but it’s too late. You hear the shot before you feel it, and it lands right in the middle of your back, making you wobble. Next to you, Jack huffs, hand landing on the back of the couch at the pressure that he’s no doubt also feeling at his back.

It’s silent for what feels like the longest time, save for the heavy breathing behind the two of you. Until…

“You’re out, agents.” Ginger’s voice crackles over the intercom.

The lights flicker on in the room, bright and almost yellow, and the loud buzzer that rings through the practice space indicates the end of training. Around you, everyone rises up from their fake-deaths. They gather around, shrugging out of their protective clothes and celebrating their win, congratulating the last woman standing as they make their way to the exit.

“What the hell, Ginger!” You shout. “You said there were five!”

There’s a soft noise coming through the intercom, before Ginger’s voice is back, “Here’s a refresher: Always verify the information you get, don’t just blindly follow it.”

“Oh, come on…”

Next to you, Jack pulls the magazine of practice bullets from his gun before he holsters it. “It’s not like it really matters,” he says.

“We were just taken out by the recruits,” you scoff. “It matters.”

Meanwhile, your mind is already racing, going over the details of the training, thinking on where you went wrong, but it’s a short contemplation because Ginger is right: You should have confirmed your targets before running out in the open and exposing yourself, have a better plan... Which reminds you—

“Hey,” you say, drawing Jack’s attention again. “Next time I would appreciate a little heads up if you’re going to disappear on me like that,” you say, jabbing your thumb over your shoulder. “I mean, if I can’t even trust you during training, how am I supposed to trust you when we get back out there?”

His eyes narrow and it’s like he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it and turns away from you. “We ain’t going anywhere anytime soon anyway.” His voice is stained with spite and immediately after he says it, he starts making his way towards the exit.

You huff as you pull at the velcro straps to get the vest off your body and drop it into the container with the rest of the protective clothes next to the door, before following after him.

He isn’t wrong, per se. You don’t know about the details because it seems to be a sensitive topic judging from the one time you brought it up, but Jack had been put on non-active months ago after a mission in Cambodia and hasn’t been sent out by Statesman since. After a bit of an unconventional first meeting between the two of you, Champ, the head of Statesman, had decided that partnering you two up would be a good idea. Truthfully, it made sense; Jack’s a senior agent who needs to be eased back into things, you’re a junior agent who could learn from him while you could keep him reined in.

But it’s been three months since and you still haven’t been sent out on a mission, and it isn’t how you envisioned your transfer to this division of Statesman to be.

You imagined high-stakes missions, traveling the world, learning from the best—

Okay, maybe that last part had worked out.

Truth be told, Jack had proven himself a very capable agent from the very moment you met, but it didn’t really sink in until one of your first training sessions, when you discovered Jack insisted on carrying around a lasso and whip on top of this Statesman issued gun. You laughed it off at first, thinking it was just part of his cowboy-like fashion sense. Then he opted to practice his lasso skills on you, betting he could catch you with it in under a minute. Figuring it would take him more than a minute to even find you in the large training space, you agreed. In hindsight, the smirk on his face when he asked should have been enough for you to realize your mistake right away. He found you, got the rope looped around your body, and, rather indignantly, forced you to the ground; all in under 36 seconds.

It wasn’t until after, when the rope was looped around a rubber target dummy, that he showed you the lasso could turn electric…

You continued your sessions together, learning to anticipate each other’s moves, play off of them to use it against your opponent; getting a routine down and using the training time to prepare for your missions. But there’s only so much preparing you can do, especially with someone who is as much of a wildcard as Jack, someone who often makes his own plan. But the missions never came, causing Jack to become somewhat of a ticking time bomb, closer to exploding with each passing day that you weren’t sent out. You’re sure Champ has noticed by now, but still, he insists on having you train together more. And, on occasion, that means playing target practice for the new Statesman recruits.

“Being taken out by the recruits isn’t going to improve our chances, you know.” You jog after him until you’re walking next to him.

“That mean we should just take it?” Jack asks, manoeuvring through the corridors back to the main building, bumping your shoulder occasionally.

“Whatever happened to, ‘You know me darlin’, I’m always jumpin’ at the chance to pencil in a little extra training time with you’?” you manage in your best impression of his voice to echo the words he said before the two of you entered the training space earlier.

“I changed my mind and thought of something better, that’s what happened,” he says, looking at you before gesturing between the two of you. “Us two, puttin’ all our hard work to good use out there in the field. And I don’t mean any funny business.”

“Hmm, yeah, no, exactly, ‘cause we don’t practice that kind of stuff.”

You set it up for him, and you have a feeling he knows but can’t help himself. One corner of his mouth turns up, and you consider the slight change in his demeanour a small victory.

“But we could.”

You chuckle, open your mouth to reply—

“I know, I know.” He grins, before you can say anything. “Just puttin’ it out there, lest you forget.”

He stops walking, so you do as well, standing next to him and leaning against the wall as to not obstruct the hallway. He turns towards you and for a moment you just look at him as he sighs and combs his fingers through his hair while the furrow returns to his brow. “But… Christ, don’t you wanna get back out there?”

“Of course I do,” you say with a sigh. “At this rate that recruit dangling from the ceiling is going to get a mission before we do.”

“See! That’s what I’m talking about, partner.” He leans in, lowers his voice like he’s about to tell you a secret, “I say we—”

“Hey, Whiskey!” The exclamation echoes through the hall, followed by your own code name. Both your heads perk up at the sound, finding one of the recruits at the end of the hall. “Ginger’s asking for you two!”

--

Ginger Ale’s promotion to handler meant that she was able to enjoy a lot more of Statesman’s luxuries, including her own office. As you walk in, you can’t help but notice how nice it is: It is spacious, but modest with the way she has decorated it, has a gorgeous view and is full of the latest tech; it is exactly what she deserves.

You’ve gotten to know her well during the past few months. She is intelligent and resourceful, warm and encouraging. Her work is thorough and precise; she cares a great deal about the details of a mission, and you have no doubt that you could always trust her if she were to ever guide you through one.

But training is another story, apparently…

“I’m not accepting any repercussions for that training,” you say the moment you spot her by the window.

Ginger chuckles at that, and it sounds unlike her, like she’s nervous. It’s almost as intriguing as the next words she speaks, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t call you in here for that. Why don’t you have a seat?”

You shoot a quick glance at Jack, who looks equally responsive despite his silence; lips pursed, an eyebrow cocked. He strides towards her desk to take her up on her invitation, and sits down in one of the two chairs opposite her workspace. You follow quickly, taking a seat in the empty chair beside him, looking up at Ginger as she makes her way to the see-through screen on her desk.

Ginger taps the screen twice, and it lights up. It’s full of pictures of the same man, all taken on different occasions. He’s slender, mid-40s, you’d guess, with a pair of round glasses perched on his nose and has blond, wild hair, some of it missing on the top of his head.

“Nathaniel Jones,” Jack says, leaning in to take a closer look at the pictures. “Nathan resurfaced?”

“Yes,” Ginger says.

“I’m sorry, um, who is Nathan?” you ask, looking from Jack to Ginger and back.

“He’s an art thief,” Ginger answers.

“Not just an art thief, he’s one of the best, even wanted by the good folks at Interpol,” Jack corrects, turning to you. “Steals pieces all over the world and replaces ‘em with fakes, good fakes, then sells ‘em. They even suspect him of stealin’ an ancient Chinese gu from an exhibition in Nanjing, which he kept for his own personal collection. Think he might be capable of puttin’ the Gardner Museum theft to shame someday…” He trails off.

You nod, not entirely sure what that means, but you’re sure it would be an impressive feat. And Jack would know. While he’s been on non-active, Jack has taken up a new hobby: art history. You didn’t think he’d be the man for it, but apparently when Jack sets his sights on something, he goes a little hard, and if the many times he’s threatened to ‘leave the agency and live off that sweet, sweet art appraiser salary’ are anything to go by, he is quite good.

“However, no one has been able to catch him. He leaves no physical evidence, but he always allows himself to be photographed, as you can see,” Ginger says, gesturing towards the screen.

“Show off,” Jack scoffs. “Where did they spot him?”

“London,” Ginger replies, tapping the screen again to reveal an aerial map of the city centre, two red dots corresponding with some of the pictures she’s shown you earlier. “There’s a big auction coming up and he’s expected to strike.”

Suddenly, her words are kicking in. Nathan is like.. he is kind of like a target, isn’t he? And he was spotted in London… Expected to attend an event where he could get caught...

“Ginger, are you—are you saying what I think you’re saying? You’re sending us on a mission?”

“Yes and no. It’s…” Ginger hesitates, eyes flickering to Jack quickly, then continues, “It’s a mission, but it’s not our mission. It’s… It’s at the request of Kingsman.”

But it’s a mission. A real mission, in London. And it's perfect. With Jack's art expertise and both your skills as agents, you’re sure you’d be an excellent addition to the Kingsman team for this mission. A mission. Finally—

“We ain’t goin’.”

—and then Jack says that. His voice is low and dead serious, lacking any hint of sarcasm. “You know I’m not fucking doing that.”

It takes you completely by surprise, and you whip your head around to him so quickly that the muscles in your neck protest. "What?"

He ignores the question, stares straight at Ginger. Something is seriously wrong. He’s tense, maybe even more than you’ve ever seen him. It’s in the way his jaw twitches, and how he’s gripping the arms of the chair, but most of all in his eyes; it’s something you can’t place.

“They just need someone who can look at the pieces they have at the auction house, to authenticate and appraise them before the auction,” Ginger says, “and an extra couple eyes to do surveillance during the auction.”

"You should send someone else, ‘cause I ain't doin’ it."

Ginger sighs. “You think I would ask this of you if there was someone else who could do it?”

“Come on, Ginger,” Jack laughs bitterly, a thumb coming up to swipe at his bottom lip. “No art appraisers available in London?”

“You know they can't just get a civilian in on this.” Ginger sounds frustrated now.

"Well, it’s what Kingsman is gonna have to do."

You raise a brow at the way he snarls at the word ‘Kingsman’. So that’s what this is about. “Okay,” you begin, speaking in the kindest, most understanding tone you can manage as you turn towards your incredibly stubborn partner. “Okay, clearly there’s something going on here, with - with the Kingsman, right? But maybe by going there you can…,” you gesture with your hands to find the right words, “work it out?”

He seems to consider this, lips pursing further, not looking at either you or Ginger, and after some moments of quiet contemplation, he begins to sit up. “Hypothetically — and by that I do mean hypothetically — if I were to agree… Do they even know I’m the one comin’ to consult?”

“Jack—”

“It’s a simple question,” Jack interrupts, voice slightly raised. “Yes or no?”

You give Ginger a hopeful look, but her silence says enough.

Jack lifts himself out of the chair, drawing the same conclusion. “Then there’s no chance in hell.”

"Well, do I get a say in this at all?" Your voice comes out angrier than you intended, but it’s fitting. You are angry. Angry that he’s making decisions without you again, angry that he would blow this chance for the both of you after he hasn’t shut up about how he wants to get sent out on a mission.

"Not in this one,” Jack all but barks at you.

You rise up from your chair. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, doll, but I’m not going all the way to London to help Kingsman as some sort of… last hurray before we're back to bein’ fucking… practice bait for the recruits!" Rounding the chair, Jack makes his way to the doors to Ginger’s office.

You're about to go after him, demand he tell you what the fuck the big deal with Kingsman even is, when Ginger speaks,

"What if it isn't one last hurray?"

Jack keeps walking. “Don’t bother.”

“If you go, I can talk to Champ about sending you out on more assignments.”

Now that makes Jack stop in his tracks. He doesn’t quite turn around yet, his back is still to Ginger and yourself, but he does angle his head to the side to indicate he heard her. It’s something. You can feel your anger simmering down and your heartbeat picking up; hopeful at Jack’s hesitance, giddy at the prospect of more missions. “And all I have to do is look at the pieces?” His voice is barely any louder than a whisper.

“Look at the pieces, authenticate and appraise them, surveillance,” Ginger summarises. “That’s it.”

His hands find his hips with a sigh, and he tips his head down. He stays like that, oh so still… “Tell them I’ll do it,” he says, “but not because I want to.” Then he pushes the door open and walks away.

--

­­­“So…” You draw the word out before clicking your tongue.

You’re sitting across from Jack on the jet, still a long way from London. Ginger has arranged for one pretty much right away. Once you’ve gotten over your initial, dazzling impression of the jet – it is enormous, far too much for just two people, with a literal pool table in the middle and a fucking bar with two doors next to it that lead to the sleeping compartments – you begin quietly observing him.

He hasn’t spoken a word since you left Kentucky and, if anything, he seems to get more miserable the closer you get to your destination. The longer you see him like this, the more your enthusiasm for the mission cools, and the more you actually start to get worried this is a bad idea after all.

You have waited as long as your curiosity, and the tension, allow for it, but given the explosive start of this whole thing, you’re certain you have to know the apparent history between him and Kingsman. You’ve tried asking Ginger, as she certainly knows more about it, but she insisted it wasn’t her place to tell you. So, really, you have no choice but to bring it up now.

“When are you going to tell me what the deal is with you and Kingsman?”

“Nothin’ for you to worry about,” comes his instant reply, clearly having anticipated your question. He’s got one hand cupped along his jaw to support his head so he can stare out the small circular window, while his shoulders, judging from his posture and the expression on his face, are currently supporting the weight of the world. “It’s all gonna be just fine.”

You scoff. “Please. I’ve known you for some time now, I’ve seen you in a lot of moods, but I’ve never seen you sulk, and…,” you gesture towards him, slumped back in his seat as he is, “…you’re sulking, Jack. Clearly there’s a good reason for that.”

He sits up at your remark, adjusts his hat, then pinches the bridge of his nose, giving you a clear sign that he doesn’t want to have this conversation – at all, but especially right now. You give him a few more seconds, but when it’s clear he isn’t going to speak, you try another direction.

“Is it um, is it about Cambodia?” you gently pry.

“Woman, can’t you take a hint?” he grunts. “Or do you just like getting a rise outta me?”

“I’m not asking just because I’m curious what can get such a rise out of you,” you say. “This is an assignment, technically it’s our first official one - the bank doesn’t count,” you add quickly. “And I would just like to be a little more prepared than last time.”

“The bank counts.”

“We didn’t even know—”

“The bank counts,” he repeats, and he probably thinks he’s being oh so funny and clever right now, focussing in on your mention of your first meeting like he isn’t doing it just to try to change the subject.

“I want to know what I’m about to walk into, Jack,” you say sharply.

“We all want things, darlin’,” he says with a sigh, getting up from his seat. “I for one would like ya to stop bringin’ this up.” And then he walks off to quite possibly the only place he can escape to right now, announcing, “I’m gonna hit the hay.”

“Sooner or later I will find out about it, you know that, right?” you call after him, your final attempt to make him just tell you what happened.

He hesitates – it's brief, but he does, a slight change in his step, a twitch of his upper arm. But he doesn’t stop, leaving you to watch as he slips through one of the doors next to the bar and disappears out of sight.

You will yourself to keep working and wait for him to return, thumbing through the thick files Ginger sent along. But as more time passes, the letters begin to dance in front of your eyes and your eyelids get heavy with sleep. Had this seat been this comfortable before? Your body sags into the leather and you allow your thoughts to drift away from your partner’s mysterious history with Kingsman. After all, you think, naively, trying to justify letting the sleep overtake you, if Jack has decided to accept the assignment, how bad could it really be?

--

Okay. So. Turns out it could be really bad.

After touching down in London, you’d been escorted straight to the auction house, where Agents Galahad Sr. and Galahad Jr. would meet up with you. Jack had been fidgety the whole ride, leg bouncing as he resorted back to gazing out the window. You don’t know how long he had locked himself away for on the jet, but when you’d woken up, he was back in his seat across from you, case files in his lap but fast asleep, or doing a pretty good job pretending. After arriving, you entered through the sliding glass doors, and spotted two men, both sharply dressed. One was a bit older than the other, and the older one wore a pair of glasses that left one eye obscured from view. The older man had barely taken your hand in his to introduce himself, when his colleague spotted Jack, and all hell had broken loose.

Currently, you and the man you now know as Harry, if all the frantic yelling from the other agent is anything to go by, are forced to settle what has become a standoff between Jack and Harry’s colleague. They’re standing across from each other, weapons pointed at each other after Harry’s colleague aimed his at Jack, to which Jack pulled his own gun from its holster and pointed it at the other man.

“What the fuck is this, Harry? What is he doing here?”

There’s something about his tone that confirms beyond his actions that he’s more than furious. You feel a flush creep up your neck in response to the situation you find yourself in; you feel embarrassed that you have no idea what’s going on.

“Eggsy,” Harry says. “There’s no need for theatrics.”

“He’s right. Jack, put the gun away,” you say.

“Like hell – I’ll put my gun away when he puts his gun away,” Jack answers, his eyes never leaving Eggsy’s hands.

“I— Me? I should put my gun away?” Eggsy scoffs. “I’m not even puttin’ my gun down around you. Last time you pulled a gun on me, you tried to kill me—” He looks at Harry, “You tried to kill us.”

Jack sighs. “Listen, things are different now—”

He’s saying more after that, but all that you’re hearing is that he isn’t denying it, and it replaces the flush from earlier with goosebumps that break out all over your body. That’s why he didn’t want to come here. Jack, your partner Jack, had attempted to kill two Kingsman agents.

“Why are you so calm about this, Harry?” Eggsy’s voice comes out strained, and it almost sounds like a plea.

“Agent Galahad,” Harry says sharply. “You know we can’t let our personal feelings get in the way. I simply think we should give Agent Whiskey a chance to do the job he came here to do.”

“Yes,” you blurt out. “I swear, that’s all we came here to do; do the appraisal and help with the surveillance later. After that, we’ll be out of your hair.”

Eggsy looks from you to Harry and back, gripping the gun so hard it shakes, then lowers it with a sigh. “You better.” He turns his attention back to Jack. “Or I swear, I’m gonna put so many fuckin’ bullets in you that no amount of Alpha-Gel can fix it. You got that?”

“Loud and clear.”

You heave a sigh of relief when the men holster their weapons, and as if knowing exactly when to appear, the auction house assistant enters the room, blissfully oblivious to what she had just missed out on.

Her accent is posh, especially compared to Eggsy’s, when she says, “I see everyone has arrived. Shall we?”

As she leads you to the room where the paintings are being kept, the auction house assistant informs you about them. They’re all part of a week-long event, an auction to help out up and coming artists. It’s all information you already know from the preliminary work you did for this assignment. What you don’t know is that artists usually make little to nothing from their art being sold at auction houses, but that this auction has a scoop: The artists will receive royalties from works sold on the secondary market. The works up for auction tomorrow are among the most anticipated, and they’re expected to sell at a high price. And even though you’re no art expert, you can certainly see why when the assistant leads you into the room where the works are stored.

The white walls are adorned with paintings of the most beautiful artworks. They’re all landscapes -– cherry blossom by a lake, a cave lit in a way that could be described as enchanting, a waterfall between oddly shaped high rocks, a lavender field at sundown. But they’re painted in a way unlike anything you’ve ever seen on account of the dazzling colours and unusual brush strokes. It instantly makes you want to look closer; it makes you want to touch, flit your fingers over the bumps of dried paint – an instinct you obviously don’t act upon, but you want to. It’s bitter to imagine how such stunning works would not have benefitted the artist if it would be sold at another auction house…

Jack looks equally impressed, whistling as he looks around the room before he gets to work. As he does, you watch curiously, from a distance as not to disturb him – Eggsy’s leaning against the wall next to him, much less subtle about his observant role. While you watch, you take note of the care Jack is putting into his work right now, unusually patient in his methods, evident in the way the gloved tips of his fingers brush along the canvasses, how he uses his pocket magnifying glass to inspect the painting from top to bottom, and the soft tone he uses with the assistant. It’s the kind of stuff you’ve never really been able to see him do, you realize, so different from all the tactical training you went through the past few months.

By the time he’s nearly done, you’re deep in conversation with Harry. He’s polite and to the point, with a rich voice and a kind laugh. And clearly, he’s no fool. You had struck up the conversation in hopes of prying some information out of him about Jack’s history with Kingsman, but Harry changes the subject each time you try, focusing back on the “extraordinary artwork”. It’s like the universe is conspiring against you, waiting to drop the other shoe at the right moment – or maybe these agents are just too well trained…

“That fuckin’…” Lost in thought as you are, you’re startled when you suddenly hear Jack’s voice sail through the room. “We’ve got a problem,” he declares, rounding the corner, coming back into view with Eggsy hot on his heels. He’s striding over with large steps as he plucks the latex gloves off his hands, and the concern on his face is apparent; his lips are pressed together in a thin line and his brows are furrowed. He comes to a halt in front of Harry and yourself, his fingers brushing along his chin before he explains himself, “So, all of ‘em are exactly as I expected ‘em, right? Until I get to the last one, inspect the brushstrokes and… something don’t add up. I think he’s already made the switch.”

--

Jack’s unexpected discovery at the auction house had led to a small crisis. From Eggsy, who demanded to know how Jack was so sure and if he wasn’t aiding a wanted criminal again. And from the auction house personnel, who started a frantic investigation into how someone could have gotten in and out of the secured room. It was a mystery that was quickly solved when they pulled up the security footage from last night, which showed Nathan, dressed as someone from the cleaning crew, rounding the corner where the switched artwork was located with a cleaning cart, and reappeared with it moments later.

No one expected Nathan to strike before the auction; the thief usually operates in plain sight during the events he targets. It forced Harry, Eggsy, Jack and yourself to rethink your strategy, and you had agreed to meet up early next morning to come up with a new plan. The stiff goodbyes you’d shared with the Kingsman agents served as a cold reminder of how you’d arrived here.

And even now, as you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, it’s an unpleasant feeling you can’t shake, a feeling that’s keeping you from sleeping more than the jetlag. Before you can think any better of it, you’re up, through the door, walking down the hallway, and knocking on Jack’s hotel room door. He opens almost immediately, and that, combined with the way he’s still dressed in yesterday’s clothes and is doing a poor job of hiding the half-empty whiskey bottle on the dresser behind him, leads you to believe he hasn’t slept a wink, either.

“Hi,” you say, brushing past him and into the room.

“You know,” he says as he closes the door, a slight slur in his voice apparent. “This isn’t how I imagined it.”

The comment throws you off. “This isn’t how you imagined what?” you ask with a frown.

He gestures towards you. “You, barging into my hotel room.”

“I—”

“Usually less clothes involved,” he interrupts with a chuckle as he walks toward the dresser and plucks the bottle off of there.

“Yeah, well…” you look down at yourself, at your sweatpants, the soft dark blue T-shirt you’re wearing, “I’m sorry this isn’t doing it for you, Jack.”

He looks up at you, cocks his head with a grin. “Oh, I didn’t say that, darlin’.”

You sigh. You’re used to this endless back and forth, the pet names, it’s what Jack does with everyone, but you’re no longer in the mood to play into his little game. “I’m not here to get you into bed, Jack.”

“Good,” he says, and he doesn’t miss a beat when he adds, “in my dreams we don’t make it to—”

“I’m here to give you one final chance to tell me what happened between you and Kingsman,” you say with a raised voice before he’s even finished.

He makes his way over to a glass table by the window where his tumbler is waiting for him, and he pours it half-full. “And what if I don’t?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. You don’t want to give him the chance to derail the conversation by hiding behind his wit. Or walking away. You’re serious, this is serious, and you want him to know it is. “If you don’t, then that means I can’t trust you.” This time, it’s you who doesn’t miss a beat when you add, “and Jack, if I can’t trust you, I can’t be your partner.” Maybe it’s a weak threat, but it’s the truth. This is your first mission together and he’s already keeping things from you. How could a partnership possibly work like this?

You’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately have a smart retort for you. Instead, your words make him freeze, and if you didn’t know better you swear it makes him sober up. You know that he can tell you’re not kidding around, can practically see the cogs turning in his head in what you assume is him making a quick list of pros and cons. After some time, he reaches for a second glass, pouring two fingers before simply asking, “Drink?”

“Depends.”

He thrusts the glass in your direction. “Take the drink and sit down.” He gestures towards one of the leather chairs next to the table, but you stand your ground, looking at his extended arm but not taking the drink from his hand. “Please,” he says, and with the way his voice slightly goes up at the end, it’s almost a question.

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that, and your legs are walking you towards him before you’ve even really accepted his invitation. You take the glass from him and plop down in the chair with a huff. You still can’t really tell if he’s serious, so you wait for him to speak.

Jack brings the glass to his mouth, throwing its contents back with one big gulp before refilling it and taking a seat himself. His hand moves up to his face, two fingers rubbing along his moustache as he looks at you and gnaws at his lip. “I erm— It’s not—” Then he averts his gaze, and after a beat of silence he settles on, “It’s a long story, though.”

You’re taken aback, not used to seeing him like this. You’ve gotten to know Jack as charming, confident, cool, but while he is stuttering out his reply, the flush in his neck creeps up to his face, and his shell seems to be cracking. He is flustered, maybe even anxious, and you have a feeling that he’s not exaggerating when he says that it’s a long story.

You nip at your drink, the oaky taste with hints of vanilla settling pleasantly in your mouth before burning down your throat. “I have plenty of time to listen.”

And so you do. You listen to him explain how Kingman and Statesman worked together to stop Poppy Adams and take down her toxic drug empire. But that, somewhere along the mission, his personal feelings got in the way. After purposefully breaking a vial of the antidote they’d stolen from one of Poppy’s facilities on Mont Blanc, he had been shot in the head by Harry, who suspected him of being a traitor. Luckily, Eggsy had reacted quickly by using Alpha-Gel, effectively saving his life. (“Even got the battle scars to prove it,” he says, pointing at the scar on the side of his face). The next thing he remembered was waking up in Kentucky, where Ginger brought his memory back. He followed the Kingsman agents to Poppy’s hideout in Cambodia, where he nearly kept them from releasing the antidote worldwide, before they overpowered him and brought him back to the States in cuffs. Naturally, he was suspended indefinitely.

Throughout his story, you’re dead silent, hanging onto his every word as you sip your drink.

“Guess I kept this from you for so long ‘cause… I didn’t want this partnership to end before it properly began. But with you comin’ in here at two in the mornin’, demandin’ to know the truth or else, I figured…” He pauses with a sigh, face twisting into a something you can’t quite place. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

Your brain is failing to process all this information at once, and Jack takes your silence as a prompt to continue,

“And I hate it. ‘Cause for the first time in a long time, I was havin’ some fun again.” He nods at his own statement, then looks up at you, his eyes searching your face. “When we were training together and you picked up on everything I was doin’… You anticipatin’ all my moves made me wanna anticipate all o’your moves, to become attuned to you and your…your stupid little knives.” His smile falters, and there’s that look again. “I mean, we’re a good team, aren't we?”

Jack’s always chatty, but the way he’s talking right now he’s being downright loquacious. It’s probably on account of the whiskey, but it still makes you choose your words carefully, unable to be as blunt or demanding as you were earlier. “All of that training stuff,” you begin, “I think it means nothing if we can’t be honest with each other.” You pause, so your words can really land with him, before asking, “Can I trust you to do that?”

“After all that, can you trust me to do that?” He’s making that face again, and the flush on his cheeks is back and—

Oh.

Oh.

You completely forget about his question because suddenly you can place the look on his face: He’s ashamed.

He’s ashamed and he thinks you’ll see him differently from this point on and that that’s why— Wait. Do you? The weight of his story is starting to catch up to you. Because holy shit, the Poppy Adams situation last year was intense. You remember the TV broadcastings, the utter chaos across the globe, but nothing about Cambodia that could have made you connect the dots previously. Had Jack succeeded when he went after Harry and Eggsy to stop them from releasing the antidote, millions of people would have died – literally millions. Which— Yeah, that’s a lot to process. Your partner almost played a key part in allowing that to happen…

Almost.

Because here he is, all the tell-tale signs of shame suddenly apparent; the way he’s turned away from you, how his eyes keep darting away from yours, the red splotches on his neck, his quivering Adam’s apple. However, you also know that feeling ashamed isn’t the same as feeling guilty. You can feel ashamed over something that you’ve done, freeze and feel your gut twist at the memory, but still feel like it was a necessary evil. Does he feel any remorse for what he’s done? Just like that, there’s only one thing that really matters, that you need to know.

“Do you regret it?” you ask. He’s silent, and as you watch his finger trace the rim of his glass with a frown, you can tell that wasn’t what he was expecting, so you elaborate, “Cambodia, I mean.”

It makes his frown ease up. “All the time.”

You can feel yourself sag into the leather in relief before taking another swig from your glass. The whiskey seems to make you lose-lipped as well, because before you can really debate if you should push this any further right now, you’re firing another question at him. “Then why did you do it?”

It doesn’t sound accusatory – or you don’t mean it that way, at least. It’s simply curious, but it still makes Jack twitch, the liquid in his glass sloshing around with it. And as flushed as he was before on account of his candour and the alcohol, your question seems to drain all the colour from his cheeks.

“No, don’t—” He cuts himself off and grimaces at his own sharp tone, quickly correcting himself to something softer, “I think that’s enough story time for tonight, alright?”

It’s not enough, not really, but still you find yourself nodding, setting your empty tumbler down on the glass table that separates you. “We should...get some sleep, be prepared for tomorrow,” you say, standing up from the chair, wincing when you take note of the clock.

Jack makes a noise that somehow sounds detached; it’s not agreement, but not disagreement either. He makes no haste to get up, so you simply look down at him from where you stand. “See you in the morning?”

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” is what he offers with a lopsided smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

You return the sentiment with some words of your own, but have a feeling it’s in vain, that his bed will stay unkempt as it is, before you let yourself out of his room. And when the door closes behind you with a soft click, you’re left with your thoughts again, and you realize the conversation has done nothing to make you sleep easier either.

--

“Excellent, there you are.”

You’re fresh out of the car that has escorted you to a tailor shop in London. It was early. So fucking early. You hadn’t slept and can still taste hints of oak and vanilla in your throat every time you swallow. But now, inside, after passing through a secret door behind one of the changing rooms in the tailor shop, Harry’s voice is warm, dare you say pleased, when Jack and yourself report for duty, and something about his optimistic tone makes you forget about the early hour and the hotel whiskey. It makes your shoulders straighten and your head cock with interest.

And you’re clearly not the only one.

“Found anything?” Jack asks.

Harry leads you to a wall full of screens, where a Kingsman agent is frantically typing on the keyboard in front of him. “One of our agents found the stolen piece for sale on the black market.” One of the screens displays some sort of advertisement on what looked like the dark web; it had several marketplaces for illegal stolen goods.

“Son of a bitch is trying to get rid of it before the auction’s even started.” Jack scoffs.

You jerk your chin at the screen. “We need to ambush him, catch him red-handed.”

“Arrange a meeting,” Jack agrees.

“Precisely,” Harry nods.

“I’ll go,” Jack says instantly.

“Fuck no.” You hadn’t even noticed Eggsy until now. He’s leaning against one of the walls, then pushes himself off, making his way over with his arms crossed over his chest. “Absolutely not. I’ll go.”

 “‘course you are” Jack scoffs. “Probably couldn’t tell the difference between a watercolour and an acrylic painting to save your life.” The statement is more of a murmur, but it sets Eggsy off all the same.

“What’s that?”

“You couldn’t sell the bit, Galahad!” Jack exclaims. “We ain’t got the time to fight about this while someone else steals the piece from right under our sorry noses. I’m the most competent man for the job and this bastard has been doing this for years now, so we really should be fixin’ to get ourselves this meeting.”

It’s Eggsy’s turn to scoff. “Oh, so you can excuse mass murder, but draw the fuckin’ line at art theft, Whiskey?” He all but spits out Jack’s codename, walking up to him until their toes almost touch.

Jack’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, no doubt firing up to counter, but before he can even open his mouth, you raise your voice.

“Alright, stop puffing your chests out at each other, Christ.” Neither of them so much as bat an eye. “Obviously we both want this target, correct? You asked for a Statesman agent with art knowledge, and well, this is him. So, let’s just work on this together, be professionals, and then be fucking done with this assignment. We send Jack to the meet—”

“No—” Eggsy immediately interrupts.

“Jack is going to the meet,” you repeat louder, giving Eggsy a look. “He’s the least likely to be made because he actually possesses the art knowledge to make it convincing and…,” you pause for a second to swallow, and the taste of whiskey still prevalent in your mouth immediately takes you back to the night before, “…and I know you don’t trust him, but I do. I can vouch for him, hell, I’ll even go with him if it makes you all feel better, but Jack goes.”

You don’t miss the way Jack’s head whips around to you, but before you can turn to meet his gaze, Eggsy is speaking again. “He’ll make you right away.”

“You have a tech guy here, right?” You ignore his statement to continue explaining your plan. Your hands land on the shoulders of the man behind the keyboard. “Pretty sure he can put together some fake credentials and create the fake online presence of a pristine, wealthy art collector – a website, social media, news articles, the works. We’ll suggest a public place to meet up, like a restaurant, all to give the target some false sense of security… and then we take him in.”

No one says anything for a while, until Harry, who had been watching the scene before him silently, finally gives his verdict, “I think it sounds like a fine plan. Get to work,” he orders the Kingsman agent behind the keyboard.

“And what about you?” Eggsy asks you, clearly displeased.

You shrug. “I don’t know, I can pose as like… a waitress?”

--

You adjust your tie in the mirror or the restaurant bathroom, then fold the collar of your dress shirt into place and smooth your hands down over the apron you’re wearing; to play the part you have to look the part. Although… You’re pretty sure the average waiter doesn’t have knives and a gun hidden away in a thigh holster under their apron. You hadn’t been entirely serious, but you were nothing if not true to your word, playing the role you’d suggested. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before exiting the restaurant bathroom to take your position.

As you enter the restaurant, you find it’s mostly empty, just like Kingsman has arranged it to be. Your eyes find Jack, tucked away into a corner close to the door, having also done his best to look the part. His hair is in its usual side part, but somewhat slicked back, and he’s wearing a navy suit that’s much fancier than the ones he usually wears. You pass his table quickly, your eyes meeting briefly, and he nods at you once as you take your place in front of the window across from his table.

Daytime is the perfect time at a restaurant to clean the windows, right?

Your supplies to really sell your performance are already waiting for you, and you reach down to dip a cloth into the warm water, wringing it out above the bucket before bringing it up to the window. Via the glass, you can see the reflection of the table Jack’s sitting at, and the look on his face makes you want to turn to him, to reassure him one last time—

“I’ve got eyes,” Harry’s voice suddenly informs you through your earpiece. “Target approaching on foot, alone.”

Behind you, Jack sits up at the message, face transforming, relaxing, visibly slipping into the role of rich art collector. You focus yourself back on your work, rubbing the cloth along the window as your eyes search for the target through the glass. And then you see him approaching the restaurant with quick, short steps. He’s even more slender in person, but has the same pair of round glasses perched on his nose. His short, blond hair dances in the wind, and he brings one hand up to smooth it back down onto his head while the other hand carries a black briefcase.

You bring your hand up to the side of your face and press the little button on the earpiece. “Target confirmed,” you say. “Permission to continue mission?”

“Message received,” comes Harry’s reply. “Continue mission. Good luck, agents.”

Nathan enters the restaurant shortly after, and you will yourself to focus on your fake task at hand. Leaning down to wet the cloth again before getting back to work, you hear Nathan and Jack making introductions, and in the reflection you see him take his place across from Jack, setting his briefcase down next to his chair.

“I must say I’m surprised about getting an offer so soon.” Nathan checks his watch. “The auction hasn’t yet ended and the piece we discussed is… at the auction.”

“Technically,” Jack replies.

The man chuckles at that. “Technically, indeed.” He pauses, narrows his eyes. “Tell me, how did you know?”

Jack folds his hands and places them on the table as he begins his story. “Given my… reputation, I was allowed to view the pieces ahead of the auction and I found myself… distressed, when I realized my personal favourite piece was, in fact, a forgery. You see, it was damn near perfect, but then I noticed the brushstrokes; the way they were angled. I know about your…” Jack pauses, searching for the right word, “methods, and I knew I had to get in contact. Figured I could get the piece for a much better price from you than I could at any auction.”

“And how would you know about my…,” Nathan pauses, mirroring Jack’s earlier intonation, “methods?”

Shit. There’s a slight hitch in your stroke of the cloth along the window. What if he just made Jack? In the reflection you can see your partner’s look of contemplation, how he’s almost calculating what to say next and how to do it. You drop the fabric from your hand to land into the bucket by your feet, and take the dishcloth that’s slung over your shoulder to wipe your hands dry as you listen.

“I’m simply an admirer. Of this work, o’course,” Jack says, gesturing towards the briefcase next to the chair. “But also of your work.” Jack leans in, speaks softly when he asks, “Is it true, about the Chinese gu?”

Nathan doesn’t answer definitively, but his lips purse in a pleased smile before he pushes his glasses farther up his nose. “You’ve done your homework.” He sounds impressed, and you can’t help but be amused at the way Jack’s feeding this guy exactly what he needs to hear right now.

Leaning back in the chair, Jack matches the other man’s expression and gives him a casual shrug. “Told you, I’m an admirer.” He pauses, eyes drifting down to the case next to the chair, then asks, “Can I see the piece?”

There’s a long moment where Nathan doesn’t answer, but then, without a word, he reaches for the briefcase, clicks it open and gives Jack a view of the artwork inside.

Jack whistles. “Gorgeous,” he says, looking up at Nathan with an impressed smile. “Your replica looks just like it.”

Nathan smiles proudly, and you know you’ve got him when you hear what he says next, “You won’t believe how easy it is, especially with these smaller pieces.” He seems to catch himself, too; cheeks flushing the slightest bit before he’s checking his watch again. “Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I have another appointment; let's wrap this up, shall we?”

Jack shifts, looking down as if he’s contemplating the question. “I don’t think so.” He reaches inside of his suit jacket, produces his gun from its holster and points it at Nathan under the table, removing the safety with a soft click. “You’re gonna come outside with me – calmly, quietly, no need to make a fuss – and we’re gonna make sure every bit of stolen artwork is gonna go back to their rightful owners.”

Across from him, Nathan moves fast – surprisingly fast. He pulls his own gun from his jacket, points it at Jack. “Do you think I’d come here unprepared? I’ll tell you how we’re gonna do this: You’re gonna let me walk—”

As he talks, you glance over your shoulder, take in their positions, guns out but hidden from view of the rest of the restaurant. You look at Jack, and he doesn’t look at you, but his head jerks in a short nod. You turn away again, hand slipping under your apron, fingers flitting over one of the smaller blades in the holster before slowly slipping it out of the leather.

“—I mean, what’s your plan, hmm?” Nathan asks. “To shoot me here? For everyone to see? Whether you’re law enforcement or not, I know you’re not gonna do that.”

Jack’s grip on his gun tightens. “And you are?”

You turn and bend down, and to the untrained eye it would look like you were about to tie your shoelaces. During your movement, you swing the knife and throw it towards the table in front of you. There’s a soft swoosh, and then the knife lands in Nathan’s thigh with a squelching sound. He yelps, reaches for his leg, and in the process, the gun drops from his hand. Jack catches it effortlessly before it can clatter to the ground, then kicks at the bottom of Nathan’s chair. It sends the man tumbling backwards, the wood hitting the floor with a thump. You’re back on your feet in no time, rushing over to shield the man from the view of the few people in the restaurant, shoulder to shoulder with your partner who had the same idea.

“Oh, sir! Are you okay?” you ask, kneeling down to pull the knife from his thigh. He keens in response as you hide the blade away in the pocket of your apron.

“Oof,” Jack says, making a face and holding the lapels of his jacket as he looks down at the squirming man at his feet. “Came clattering down harder than a screen door in a storm.”

“I know,” you say with faux-concern, taking a hold of Nathan’s hand and pressing it down over the wound with a wet sound. “That was quite a fall! Let’s get you up, we should get you some air. Come on.” He struggles against you, but with a firm grip on his arm, you still him, then haul him onto his feet. You look at Jack with a knowing grin. “Sir, can you help me get this man outside?”

--

You find yourself watching from below the overhang of the restaurant, sheltered from the London weather, as Jack escorts Nathan to Harry and Eggsy, who are waiting by a dark car. As Eggsy helps Nathan into the backseat, Harry sticks his hand out at Jack, who contemplates the gesture for a split-second before taking Harry’s hand and shaking it. They exchange some words, briefly look in your direction, but you’re too far away to really make out what they’re saying. Eggsy closes the car door and watches the two agents, seemingly contemplating if he’s going to follow his colleague’s example, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when he does. Jack says his goodbyes in the form of a two-finger salute, then turns to make his way to you.

“Well?” you ask when he stands next to you, leaning back against the window as you both watch the car drive off. “Did we save the art world?”

“Close enough,” he says. “Harry said to thank you on Kingsman’s behalf, and that they’ll handle it from here on out. They just… want our mission reports within the week.”

You groan, eyes closing and shoulders dropping at the reminder. “That was the one thing I hadn’t missed about going on missions…”

Jack grunts softly, in agreement, you think, then says, “Think it was a successful first assignment together?”

“I’d say all the training’s paid off,” you say, shifting and knocking your shoulder against his. “Be sure to mention that in your mission report, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack chuckles shortly, then shuffles his feet and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Been meanin’ to ask you… Did you mean what you said earlier? ‘Bout trustin’ me?”

You look at him, trying to determine whether he’s really asking or just being a dick, but he keeps looking straight ahead, his expression giving nothing away.

“I did.” You pause before adding, “I wouldn’t be much of a partner if I didn’t, right?”

He cracks, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, a slight hint of a smile appearing. He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “You are a good liar…”

You can’t help but match his expression, thinking back to how exasperated he looked in the red flickering lights of the training space days ago. “I’m not that good.”

He’s quiet after that, head tipping down to look at his shoes as his eyebrows knit together and his tongue comes out to wet his lips. It feels tense, suddenly, and you don’t know if it’s because you said something you shouldn’t have. Does he not believe you? Maybe it’s just your imagination. You think of something to say to break the tension, or to at least change the subject.

“It was my wife,” Jack suddenly says, head shooting up to look directly ahead again and straightening his back.

Your mouth opens, then closes, seriously doubting if you’ve heard him right. With a confused shake of your head, you ask him, “Sorry, what was that?”

He clears his throat. “My wife. She’s why I turned on the agency.”

You frown, even more confused than before. “You never told me you’re married.”

He’s pausing again and your heartbeat picks up, cheeks heating at the idea that he has mentioned his wife and that you simply forgot. It’s just that Jack… He didn’t seem to be the type to be in a serious relationship. You rack your brain, going over the interactions you’ve had with him and scanning for the word ‘wife’ or ‘spouse’ or—

“Was,” he corrects. “It was years ago and... she died.”

—oh.

There had been so much emotion in his voice, and it’s all so unexpected that he knocks the absolute wind out of you with it. He almost doesn’t look like himself when he finally looks at you. He takes a breath before he continues, “Two methamphetamine users killed her durin’ a robbery. She was pregnant with our son and… and I guess, in my fucked up mind, that justified—”

“Stop,” you say. “You were right earlier. It’s— You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.”

“You were right,” he presses. “And I thought you oughta know it, ‘cause I—” He stops himself with a bitter chuckle before continuing, “Christ, this is gonna sound so fuckin’ cheesy, but… The whole thing in Cambodia, that’s not who I wanna be. I wanna be… better, y’know? Do the right thing, be a good agent, not be a shitty partner, the whole nine yards, and I… I’ve been thinking on it and I think it starts with trust.” He cocks his hip, hooks his fingers in his belt loops, and it might have been somewhat funny if he didn’t look so bashful when he peers up at you after. “And me workin’ on my communication skills and bein’ earnest, which I’m honest to God tryin’ my damnedest at right now,” he adds with a hint of a smile. “That sound acceptable to you?”

Blinking up at him, you let his words wash over you. You had truly meant it when you said you trusted him back in the hotel, and with the way he is standing across from you, all but wearing his heart on his sleeve, you trust him to be truthful and genuine with you now. There is only one answer you could give him.

“Yes.

[shirecorn]

Casual reminder: High Geologist does not tolerate aphobia

Hell yeah! No awesome person would stand for that!

you know. My first instinct is to reply to this in a jokey memey fun way, because The High Geologist is a fun jokey meme.

much rambling ensues!

But it's pride month so I wanna get into it a little bit. When I drew him, I wasn't thinking about ace stuff at all. The geode halo is an amethyst and they just happen to resemble the ace flag. Some people spotted it and celebrated it, so I quickly made it canon, to accept, celebrate, and validate ace people. At the time of the meme, I identified as allo and considered myself an ally to the ace community; so please consider him as representation from a content creator who isn't part of the people they portray. This is very important to me because I don't want people to think I only did it because "I am or have a friend/family member/etc who is ace and that's why I care"

You don't need any of that to care. You just need to be a decent person who listens when people talk.

The high geologist is really important to me as an ace icon because it's one of those characters whose sexuality is just one of many distinct and wonderful traits they have.

Some people make their sexual or romantic orientation, gender identity, allo-ace spectrum label, mono/polyamorous preference, or any other queer label into a huge part of their identities. This is absolutely awesome and I love these people with all my heart. Many of my ocs are like this.

Other people have their queerness exist alongside or behind all their other traits. The High Geologist is: A centaur. A geologist. A powerful mage. A stoner. Shaggy from live action Scooby Doo. Asexual.

This is important to me because it shows that Anyone can be ace. That while sometimes ace is a core part of ones identity, it can Also just be a trait stuck onto an awesome person like every other trait that makes them who they are. I think that having this epic magical stoner centaur be ace is important to the ace kids out there who have a hard time finding explicitly ace rep that doesn't come with a whole bunch of baggage and personality changes attached to it.

He's just ace. It's not the most important thing about him (that would be his ability to name every stone,) it just Is. The high geologist happens to be vocal and proud about his sexuality, but if it was just another trait to him, that would be fine too.

I myself am Very very queer in many ways. My gender, sexuality, romantic orientation, ace-allo spectrum location, it's all queer. But I don't have that in my bio because it's not what I consider to be important about me.

I am a shitposter, a goofball, a creator. I like characters, animals, and creatures. I'm a professional artist (hire me). I'm he/him.

These are the things you should know going into my art blog because these are the things I post about.

I'm also a hobby photographer, entomologist, and poet. I was that dragon and dinosaur kid. I collect bones and sticks. I can mimic ravens and cats and one very vocal dog. I have depression and PTSD. I'm an abuse survivor. I have chronic illnesses. I'm autistic. I have synesthesia. I'm a leader. My favorite animal is Rat. I'm a furry. I sing and write songs. I like boba tea. I have an extra row of teeth. I'm a home chef. I have a pet lizard named The Boy. I have worked EXTREMELY hard to become a kind and happy person.

These are things that are important to my friends.

I'm trans. I'm bi-demi-something-romantic-except-sometimes-but-i-dont-know-when-i-have-no-idea-what-sexuallity-is-but-its-something-and-bi-because-the-flag-is-pretty-but-definitely-also-something-aspec

These are important to people I might want to date.

I ramble so much. You get used to it. I am many things, so are you.

The high geologist is many things. I want to make ace people happy when they see someone they share a trait with being awesome and proud of who he is. I want allo people to see asexuality that is just a trait added in to a bunch of other traits to make someone whole and complete.

Asexuality is a positive Thing. It's not a void. Adding it to a character makes them More complete, not less. The same goes for every other trait in the world. Even things like being cishet. If you're a good ally to cishet people, remember that it makes them a whole person and not more boring than others. Especially appreciate cishet people around us who have done questioning and put thought into discovering who they are because a journey is a journey no matter where your road leads, and the act of walking brings us closer.

Oh my god this is so incredibly long and rambling I am so sorry

[snooziep]

i was tagged forever ago by @hijirikaww

Nickname: suze, snooze, pingu and winkelpicker

Height: 5 foot 8ish

Last movie I saw at home: CODA congrats on the oscar

Favourite artists: music? bowie, drugstore, tom waits, nick cave, tom petty, eat/ange dolittle.....the list goes on.  painters: van gogh, marc chagall, ivan rabutzin

Song stuck in my head: (still) yes sir, i can boogie - i have realised i am doing a little shoulder roll from an old cadbury’s advert!! will reblog the gifs i made of it yonks ago haha

Other blogs: @jeremyleerennerdotcom

Do I get asks: i get some of those lovely little blog hugs and kisses to pass on.  the only consistent asks i get are from the nasty renner nonny

Lucky number: 6

What I am wearing: it’s sunday so i am in murderino joggers and a slouchy top and cardy.  and slippers.  cos i’m old and i get chilblains haha

Following: 163 of you lovely peeps *mwuah*

Amount of sleep: getting a good 8 at the moment

Dream job: bed tester

Favourite food: cheese. all the cheese.  except galician tetilla 

Dream trip: i was due to go to NZ with my oldest friends to see our other oldest friend for our big birthdays in april 2020 so that is still on the cards

Play any instruments: (wow @hijirikaww you are a talented soul!) i played a lot at school, guitar, all the recorders, violin.  but i don’t own any instruments now so i don’t play anything

Languages: i am a native english speak with an east midlands dialect.  i studied french and russian mnogo loons ago.  i can do some essentials (yes, no, thanks, cheers, 2 beers) in a couple of extra european languages

Favourite song: oh god too many. bowie’s rendition of wild is the wind is up there

Random fact: i can tap dance

Describe yourself as aesthetic: comfy librarian on the outside, tattoed and pierced ex grunge with gothic tendancies on the inside

Pets: i am petless.  we had fish and mice when i was a kid.  i had rats a few years ago but it was too hard to leave them when i travelled.  and they don’t live very long.  i am sticking with plants.  of which i have many

Stuffed animals: i have a 51 year old mothercare lamb called larry who still sleeps in my bed.  other than that a few that my mum bought me when i was at uni. an old knitted owl that i think my grandma made and a very new knitted rat that my friend angela made for me when i left the home office.