#700 followers fic

[cute-sucker]

all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.

you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.

going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.

going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.

it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was strategic. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.

he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.

but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.

"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."

and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.

you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.

little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.

"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.

he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.

rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"

dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.

"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.

that rafe.

you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"rafe-"

"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."

now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.

finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.

but that was definitely not it.

"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."

finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"

you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."

rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.

"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.

"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

taglist for all my fics; @wearemadeofstardust0

taglist for boxer!rafe: @maybankslover @vogueprincess @spookyscaryspoon

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations on your follower milestone!! You deserve all of them and more! I'm sorry it took me so long to send in a request! If it's too late, I totally understand.

I will request something with Hunter (Star Wars) and the quote: "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you."

I hate to be picky, but I've been so emotional lately, maybe I could ask that it not be a sad one? There can be angst, as long as it's not a sad ending? If that doesn't work out, let me know!

Thank you!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

@clonethirstingisreal I'm so sorry you've been emotional lately. So I've tried to write something with a bit of angst but a whole lot of fluff. So I hope you like it.

Sending you a big squishy hug.

Love oo.

I'm That Somebody

Warning: Tease, fluff, slight angst, self-doubt, questioning the other person's love, tenderness, kissing, hugs. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Hunter sat in front of the comm station of your ship, smiling to himself, his eyes closed as he swung the chair back and forth slightly with his foot. Enjoying the simple peace of a supply run. No bounty hunters. No Hemlock. No Empire. Just a simple supply run.

You smirked as you saw him in his element.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“Just enjoying the restful trip.”

“More like you’re enjoying the quiet, since Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair all decided to stay behind.”

He opened one of his eyes slightly, taking your wrist in his hand as he pulled you close, getting you to sit on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist holding you tight against him. 

“I’m enjoying being alone with you.”

“That’s because you’re a sucker.”

“No, that’s because I love you.” Hunter pressed his nose into your hair, smiling as he felt your hand gently rub his bicep, while your head gently rested on his.

You let out a huff, not quite believing him.

“What’s that for?” He asked, pulling back to look at you.

“What’s what for?”

“That scoff.”

A deep sigh escaped you, “I … I know you love me. I know.” You nodded softly, “But until when?”

“Until when what?”

“Until when are you going to love me?”

He looked at you confused and slightly hurt, “Wait.” He shifted you, so he could get a proper look at your face, “Do you think I’m going to get tired of you or something?”

“Aren’t you? I mean …” you closed your eyes, trying to tell your mouth to shut up, trying to get it to stop vomiting all your insecurities out into the open, “Let’s face it sweetie, I am not easy to deal with. I have insecurities. Issues. Anxieties…”

“And?” Hunter cut you off, “And that’s supposed to make me have a timer on my love.”

You opened your eyes, focusing on the floor of your shuttle, “Everyone else has.”

He let out a quiet sigh, “Do I look like everyone else?”

“No.”

“Do I look like I give in or call it quits like some weak civvie?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why would I ever give up on you?”

Your eyes slowly shifted from the floor to look into his eyes, he looked hurt and vulnerable. It hit you how much you had hurt him, but your own insecurity, “I’m sorry… I … it’s not you…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, he could see how much your own mind was about to start spiralling and that’s the last thing he wanted. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you closer.

“Cyare, please listen,” he spoke into your ear, as his nose brushed against your hair, "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you. And I'm that somebody. I love you because of you. You can be the most annoying person and I’ll still love you. You can be ruthless and cold, and I’ll still love you. You can balloon up to a 1000 pounds, and I’ll still love you. I love you because you are funny, sweet, kind, a little neurotic,” he chuckled lightly, “a little crazy, but it all combines into this amazing person that I get to hold in my arms. I love you because you look at me like I matter. I love you because you don’t look down at me just because I’m a clone. You look at me, like I exist.” 

He pulled back tilting your head slightly so he could kiss your neck, “I love you,” he pressed another kiss, “because you taste like my favourite fruit. I love you, because when you’re in my arms, I feel complete. That won’t change in two years, five years, 10, 20, until my last dying breath, how I feel about you will never change.” He pressed another kiss just behind your ear, pulling back to look at you. “So please don’t lose faith in me or think I’m like any of those other pieces of garbage that aren’t worthy of your love.”

As his hand cupped your cheek, you held it against you, leaning into his warmth as you closed your eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

“I know.”

“I love you. I love you so much, I wonder if I’m deserving of your love.”

“You are,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and jawline, “you are more than deserving of my love. I’ll remind you every day, every hour, every minute if you need me to.”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, as the warmth from his body starts to settle against you, making you feel safe and protected. Hunter doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. 

“I’m never letting you go, cyare. Never.”

“Promise?”

“Till every star burns out.”

You let out a soft wet chuckle, as the tears you’d been fighting and holding back started to emerge, “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

Hunter smiled as he pressed another kiss to your neck, “I like it when you’re possessive,” he chuckled, “I love you. Don’t forget that. Ever. I’ll always be here for you.”

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Tag List:

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[princessmaybank]

OMG!!! THANK YOU GUYS FOR 700 FOLLOWERS!!!! THAT IS INSANE! ❤️ I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

[angelbitezzz]

so so ik that this is yet another request, but I have another idea

Angel falls asleep on Sans' shoulder? maybe after or during a movie marathon?

:-) yet another one i feel compelled to write a thing for

The television was like muffled background noise to him, pupils trained resolutely on the screen. The alien was levitating those kids. He'd be more focused on one of his favorite human movies if it weren't for one thing.

There was a...uh...problem.

His pupils drifted to the side, sliding along curly brown hair and a top down perspective of his friend. His very asleep, very oblivious human friend who was very leaned on him despite having started this marathon on the opposite end of the couch. His eternal grin twitched slightly, just a little strained.

How did humans stand it? Being so...warm? Sans couldn't focus on anything else but the gentle pressure against his side and his arm (which he was grateful lacked the flesh needed to grow numb from blood loss), warmth steadily radiating from her into his bones. A bead of sweat gently sliding down his skull.

Maybe this wasn't....so bad. But he definitely needed to avoid this in the future.

Sans moved just a little, and Angel responded by pressing further into him, turning her face a little into his arm with a happy little sigh that made him shiver, a quiet rattle under the sound of the television. Okay. Okay. She needed rest, anyways. This was fine.

He sank back into the cushions, his body relaxing. It was fine.

...It was nice.

[runningfrom2am]

CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS 💖💖. you deserve this so so much.

i would like to send in something for wildest dreams. the song long live with rafe cameron

ahh thank you!! also i hope this is somewhat what you pictured!! it is a little sad oops-

i heard this song live this weekend twice and i cried both times this is one of my favourite songs ever i could kiss you rn for requesting this omg

long live (r.c)

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 760

it was your grad party, which you were kind enough to host at your families beach house. rafe remembers it like it was yesterday, the way you stumbled up to your kitchen table and stood on top of it with a bluetooth mic in your hand, clumsily climbing on top of the sturdy stained wood and taking a drink out of the wine bottle you had in one hand before clearing your throat and speaking. he’d been at your side all night- the kook king and queen of kildare county, respectively.

you weren’t together, never had been, but the two of you were unavoidably intertwined by your titles and your families, but this never bothered either of you. not one bit. he stared up at his best friend with pride in his eyes, awaiting your second valedictorian speech of the night. first being on stage, professional, heartwarming to everyone’s parents in the audience- enough to make him be the first out of his seat in your standing ovation.

you giggle into the mic, not intending to start your speech this way, but it was enough to get everyone to listen as the music played in the background. “i missed something important in my speech today.” you laughed, your bottle of wine now shoved under your arm while you hold the mic with both hands. “i wanted to say, to all of you, we had a good run! i’m proud of us!” you shout, everyone clapping and hollering in response. “so, tonight, let’s dance like our lives will never be the same- because i know that they won’t. this is the start of.. everything! for all of us, and i just love you all so much. i had the time of my life with you. let’s hold on to these wonderful memories forever.” you gush, making your friends aw at you while drunken cheers continued.

that’s when you locked eyes with rafe, standing right below you at the edge of the table. you smile and hold one hand out to him, motioning for him to join you on the table. he smiles and takes it gladly, climbing up next to you. “now,” you smile. “bring on all the pretenders, and the careers, and everything life throws at us!” you shouted, stumbling a little and rafe was quick to stable you with an arm around your waist.

rafe smiled down at you, ignoring completely the states and attention of everyone around you. he swiftly grabs the mic out of your hand, holding it up and gesturing to you as he yells into it. “long live the kook queen of kildare!”

everyone cheered, making you blush and shake your head, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder. the music starts blasting again as you stepped down with a helpful hand from your best friend, who you quickly guided outside to a quieter place.

“rafe.” you smiled, hand still entwined with his as you stood on the grass under a starlit sky.

“y/n.” he replied, nodding at you expectantly.

“can you promise me something?”

rafe nodded quickly. “of course.”

“can we be friends forever?” you asked, making his heart melt with the innocence of it.

“always.” rafe smiled.

“but, i mean, if god forbid fate should step in- and force us to say goodbye. if you have kids one day, can you tell them my name?” you asked hopefully. the tone of your voice was full of an existential dread and childish excitement, which he knew was brought on by you leaving for school out of the country in just a few short months. “tell them- tell them how the crowds went wild!” you giggled, struggling a little to get your point across. “and tell them- tell them how i hope they shine, you know? like you and i.”

“i would tell them.” rafe agreed. “but you can tell them yourself.” he hummed, stepping slightly closer and lifting his free hand to your chin. his heart was beating faster, faster, faster as he processed the risk he was finally taking, as he leaned down to kiss you for the first time.

“dad?” rafe is abruptly pulled from the memory as he looks over the scrapbook in his lap, catching himself smiling down at a picture of the two of you standing on your kitchen table over ten years ago. “who’s that?” his daughter asks, pointing to where you stood in the image, mic in one hand and the half empty wine bottle still tucked loosely under your arm.

“that’s y/n… she was my best friend.”

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight, @totalswag , @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397 , @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @ragingsammie , @ietss

[sirowsky-stories]

Temple of Love

Sirowsky's 600 & 700 Followers Celebration

Submitted by @bilibiche Prompt #12: How did you do that? Prompt #15: I swear I'm not drunk. Character: Pero Tovar

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero Tovar x Gender Neutral Reader. AU. Meet cute. Pero has no right to be this hot while twirling deadly weapons around like chop-sticks, okay! Sexual tension galore. Highly suggestive narrative. Soundtrack: Sisters of Mercy - Temple of Love Word Count: 1570 Masterlist of the Celebration Sirowsky's Main Masterlist

   You’re late for the first class, rushing into the building where you find no staff at the front desk who can direct you, so for a moment, you just stand there looking around, wondering which door you’re supposed to take.    There are only three people working here, all of whom are instructors, so the front desk is only manned in between classes or when one of them doesn’t have anything on schedule.

   A whiteboard behind the desk shows which classes are available today, and at which times, but it doesn’t say where each one is. So, you’re just gonna have to peek through the doors at random, hoping you won’t disturb anyone.    Fittingly, the first door you crack open leads to a cleaning and maintenance room, both of which you should really apply to your own life so that you might regain some order.

   Opening the second door on the same side of the hallway reveals what looks like a lunchroom for the staff, and now you’re getting seriously frustrated with yourself, so you move to the other side of the corridor and click the closest door open.    It’s the wrong room but you end up frozen on the threshold as the sight that meets you leaves you breathless.

   A man is training alone in there. You’ve never seen the actual man before, but his picture is on the wall in the reception, so you know that his name is Pero and that he works here, but that’s also all you know about him.    You had no idea that he’s apparently an expert swordsman.    While you stand there, mesmerized by the rapid glimmer of the lights reflected in the metal as the man twirls and swings in perfect synchronicity, you can hear how the swords sing.

   Without even knowing it, you’re drawn into the room, carefully closing the door behind you, not even glancing away from the hypnotizing display before you.    But you remain right by the wall just inside the door, afraid to get too close and even more afraid that the guy might get angry at you if you disrupt his routine. So, you just stand there, like a statue, trying to work out how he can do any of this without cutting himself to pieces.

   Then suddenly, he stops. It happens so abruptly that you flinch at the sudden lack of motion, when just half a second ago you were having trouble keeping up with the lightning-fast movements.    He’s not done, though. He seems to be ending one routine and starting another, and if you’re not mistaken, you see his eyes momentarily lock with yours when he steps to the side to turn on some music, before he starts going again.

   And amazingly… impossibly… he’s moving even faster now.    Building speed as he goes, finding the rhythm to Temple of Love, he’s now using the entire floor, whistling past you at a mere three-foot distance, leaping into the air and flipping around in what looks like impossible maneuvers to your eyes.    He’s not just fast, he’s crazy agile too. And you feel like maybe he’s showing off. Just a tad.

   Not that you mind. You’d happily watch this all day.

   Sadly, it soon ends, when he returns to the center of the room and once again becomes completely still, this time even dropping to his knees and putting the swords down.    It isn’t until he’s gotten up, turned the music off and is walking towards you that you remember why you’re even here.

   “S-sorry… I was looking for…” you try, but your mind goes blank when he pulls his white t-shirt off and starts using it as a towel on his literally dripping wet neck, chest and arms.

   “Yes?” he softly prompts you to continue, and you could swear that you see a small smirk in the lines around his mouth as he watches your eyes follow the contours of his muscles.

   “Um… I was looking for the self-defense class.”

   “That’s at the end of the hall. Another three doors down,” he politely directs you, and you know that you should leave, that you’re already way late, but somehow your legs aren’t moving.

   “You should put some numbers on the doors, or something,” is all you can think to say, and he smiles and nods.

   “We’re waiting to have them repainted with chalk paint so that we can write on them.”

   “Oh. That’s clever,” you dumbly reply while your eyes once again drift away from his, tracing the slow movement of a single drop of sweat, trickling down his Adam’s apple and then briefly stopping in the little dip between his collar bones, before continuing down his sternum.

   “Find something interesting?” he asks, snapping your attention back to his face, but thankfully finding him only bemused by your ogling.

   “Well, uh, I was just wondering… How did you do that?” you manage to say, despite your growing shame at your own lack of restraint.

   “I first learned as a young boy. And as with anything you want to master, it takes thousands of hours of practice, first with sticks, then blunt blades, and finally the real thing.    But what I teach here is more basic. Usually, actors who need to learn not to look useless holding a sword in a movie or tv-show.”

   “That seems like a waste of talent, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

   “No, that’s alright. There isn’t much need for my level of skill in the real world. I don’t do this as a way of fighting, it’s more like… meditation,” he explains, and you’re a bit surprised at the admission that he might need that kind of soul cleansing.

   He notices your slight reaction, but it only makes him smile.

   “I have plenty of reasons to need meditation. Everyone does. And most of us do find our own way to it. Some play golf, some play video games. Others walk dogs or ride horses.    What’s your thing?” he finishes by turning the topic over to you, and you’re momentarily stunned.

   “I don’t know… I like to read, I guess. That usually helps me relax.”

   “Good,” he nods approvingly, but then his smile turns a bit sly. “Still not great at reading the time, though.”

   “Oh, shit!” you gripe, remembering your class. “I’m so sorry I bothered you, sir.”

   “Don’t worry about it,” he kindly offers, and you finally manage to coax your legs into turning you around.

   But as you turn, you stumble down from the thin mat which protects the floor, and people’s limbs from breaking, and you’re about to fall on your face when he catches you.

   “Careful, there. It’s easy to snag the soles of your shoes in the added grip of the mat.”

   Afraid that you’re just gonna embarrass yourself even more if you try to speak, you just smile and nod before heading for the door.    You hadn’t even realized that you’d stepped onto the mat at all. When had you done that?    The question becomes moot, however, when you go to open the door, miss the handle and end up walking straight into the wooden frame.

   Instead of stepping back, you just rest your forehead against the door, putting your hands on your hips in pointless defiance of your own stupidity, trying to bury the humiliation by just not looking at him, because you know that he saw it.

   “I swear I’m not drunk,” you grumble, surely looking like a complete idiot but too far gone to care.

   “I didn’t think so,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Still… maybe I should drive you home.”

   You lift your head away from the door and drop your arms down your sides, frowning deeply as you try to ascertain if he actually just said that or if you merely imagined it.    Your own brain is too unreliable right now, so you turn around to look at him in the hopes of finding an answer, but he’s just standing there, as leisurely as ever.

   “What?” you try, and after a moment, he smiles again.

   “I said that maybe I should drive you home. You seem dangerously distracted.”

   “Well, I wholeheartedly and unapologetically blame you for that. No one should be so talented and look that good,” you retort, before mentally chastising yourself, because you might as well be drunk.

   You never talk like that to strangers. Not ever.

   He steps closer then, until he’s crowding you against the back of the door, and his smell hits your senses like a sledgehammer.    Sweat, of course, but remnants of deodorant as well. And when his hand comes up to brush a stray hair back into place, you can smell the metal and leather of the handles of his swords.

   “If I do take you home,” he starts, and his voice is honey now, deep and low, “then I’ll need to come inside and make sure you get to bed alright.    So, with that in mind, I’ll ask again: Do you want me to drive you home?”

   You try to think rationally, to weigh the potential dangers against the potential benefits, but if your mind wasn’t working before, it sure as shit ain’t working now.    All you’ve got is how you feel, in this moment right now, and there’s no ambivalence present. You know exactly what you want.    For once, it’s an easy answer.

   “Yes. Please.”

THE END

Massive thanks to @bilibiche for putting the image of a sweat-soaked Pero Tovar showing off with shiny swords into my head, cause that's gonna take a hot minute to scrub out! XD Seriously though, this was a hoot! Thank you, love.

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

[irritablepoe]

OKAY OKAY we have 700 words

[grandline-fics]

700 Follower Event

Okay so I've had a think about what to possibly do for reaching 700 followers and decided to open up the options to a vote like I did for 500.

Let me know what you guys think and vote for which sounds best to you. Thanks again for getting me to this incredible milestone!

[astermath]

700 followers celebration!˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

omg... 700 of you guys! what! that's literally crazy afghfsd

I'm still working on requests but I'd love to do some moodboards for this celebration! feel free to send in as many as you'd like, I'm sooo excited to make these, and thank you again for all the support and enthusiasm! this does not currently have a time limit!

♡ amour plastique -- send in a character + a description / a vibe / a scenario / a reader and I'll make a moodboard based off your requests!

♡ le miroir -- mutuals only, send this one in for a moodboard based off of your vibe / blog! you can add a small description of yourself if you want!

♡ mélodie -- send in a song, and I'll make a moodboard based on the lyrics / the vibe I get from it. (you can also send in a song + a character!)

[five-bi-five-mind]

Oh also I thought I was at like 630ish followers but when I checked today I’m over 700 so that’s wild. Hi all 700+ of you 🫣 thanks for reading my fics 💕 gonna give you each a lil appreciation pay on the head.

[overlyimmersed]

Repetitive Conversations

I just kinda got a little writing bug. Tried to summarize several hours worth of daydreaming dialog and kinda didn't do great, but here's this anyway.

"Well, you're not a coward." Maranwe states, the newest vain of the unpleasant conversation they've been having for the past two hours. It started the way this conversation usually does, with her crying and admitting to the part she played in the human incident seven hundred years ago. Trying to take the blame for it. She always does. Taking all the blame and wholly absolving him, Helbram, siting her rank as Bard to the Fairy King as the reason she has responsibility and He doesn't. Repeating how she should have listened to her own instincts, insisting she just couldn't stand to burst his bubble, and begging for forgiveness he's given a thousand times. Even though he doesn't even blame her to begin with.

From there it'd gone a little tangential, as conversations with Maranwe always do. With Helbram trying to shoulder at least some of the burden by siting his violent response to the incident as a reason mistakes should be forgivable, since she insists on hand-waving that as well.

"You have no problem owning up to the mistakes you've made." She offers sympathetically

"And you have no problem taking credit for thing you didn't do." Helbram shoots back, and immediately sees the reflexive hurt flash in her eyes. As she tries to break her eyes away from his, he grabs her shoulder to hold her attention.

His grip is as gentle as any of his other touches, but the adamance of his emotions makes it feel bruising. She tries to focus on his words.

"But only when it's something bad." a quick correction, and steadfast.

She believes him and meets his eyes again.

He stares into them for a moment, trying to read the raw emotions. He so wishes he was as good at this as she is. His own gaze softens and he moves his hand from her shoulder to her cheek.

His touch is still abrasive to her, but she's not blind to the love in it so she leans into his hand all the same willing it to be comforting.

"I wish you could forgive yourself as easily as I do…" he speaks quietly, caressing her cheek bone with his thumb. She doesn't respond. There's nothing she can say that she hasn't already.

[big-urchin-energy]

just had a big cull of blogs i follow, might have another go at it tomorrow on desktop, see if i can't crack 750

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi Mimi!!!!!!! So excited for your celebration!!!! Congrats on the followers!!!!!

I'm asking for my beloved Sergeant, naturally XD Here's some prompts!

"Don't sign to me in that tone."

"Do that again, and I'll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?" "Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it's worth it."

"Don't go where I can't follow...please, I need you."

@dragonrider9905 Ahhhhh! I was so excited to see your request. You always give me such awesome requests.

I really hope you like this, I left it open ended for you.

Love oo

Don't Go

Warning: Injury, bantering, bickering, blaster fire, almost getting shot, flirting, angst, I think that's it, let me know if I miss anything.

Italics - flashback

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Hunter sat beside your cot, holding your hand, pressing your fingers to his lips. Tech was busy focusing on the scanner, and trying to understand the readout. He got up and moved to the communication station, Hunter could sense his uneasiness, Tech’s sweat doubled in the last few seconds. Something must be wrong. 

His eyes fell back on your face, it looked so different from what it usually was. Where was the smile that was always on your lips? Where was the glimmering sparkle in your eyes? He couldn’t see it with your eyelids closed. 

‘Are you sure this is the way?’ You teasingly signed to Hunter as you both climbed your way around the side of the hotel towards the Ambassador’s suite. 

Hunter focused his eyes back on your sleeping form, was that the last time he saw that sparkling smile? No. That wasn’t it. 

‘Yes, I’m sure. Focus.’ Hunter signed back exasperated and rather rudely.

You pulled your head back a little, giving him a look that said, no you didn’t, and it took all his strength not to laugh when you signed ‘Don’t sign to me in that tone.’

Was that the last time you made him laugh? It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be the last time. He reached his hand out and gently caressed your forehead and cheek, “Wake up, cyar’ika. Please.”

When did everything go wrong? Was it because Cid had given them the wrong information again? Or was it when you threw him out of the way narrowly missing the blaster fire from the stormtroopers?

Hunter landed with a thud, his back slamming into the wall, your weight falling on top of him, knocking the air of his lungs. It took him a second longer than it should’ve to gain his breath back. Both of you were returning fire, and when one stormtrooper fell, two more took its place. You were both trapped, in the Ambassador’s study, when Tech commed, saying he found a hidden elevator. Within seconds a bookcase slid to the side and the elevator opened up. 

A few minutes later, you were both on the roof of the building waiting for Tech to swing by to pick you both up. 

Hunter paced back and forth shaking his head, “You’re reckless.”

“Excuse me? I believe the appropriate response is, ‘thank you, sweetheart, for saving my life,’ not, ‘you’re reckless.’” You shifted, shaking your head, as you saw the storm troopers down below calling for reinforcements. “Tech better hurry, we don’t have much time.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

You looked over to Hunter, “Get what?”

“You do that again, and I’ll throw you out the window.” He watched as you leaned over the edge of the building, he grabbed your arm, “Wait. What are you doing?” 

You smiled, “Just checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

He shook his head, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips, as much as he wanted to fight you, he couldn’t help but love you more, he cupped your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Probably, but it’ll be a fun ride.” You teased him, smiling against his lips.

You both pulled away when you heard the engines from the Marauder, Hunter forced you to clip on to the winch first, as soon as you were lifted off the ground, he clipped himself on to the second winch, as Wrecker started the winch. 

In a split second that Hunter replayed over and over again in his head, wishing things had been different, he saw the blaster fire, fly past him and hit you in your chest. He screamed, turning to fire on the trooper who had taken an aim at you. Both he and Wrecker fired rapidly, as Omega pulled you from the ramp. 

After that everything moved too fast and not fast enough. Wrecker picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you on your bunk. Hunter closed the ramp and Tech entered hyperspace, faster than he had ever moved the ship. 

And now, things were what they were. 

Hunter sat there watching your chest slowly rise and lower, the oxygen mask strapped to your face helping you breathe. The bacta patch on your chest didn’t seem to be helping much, aside from slowly healing the wound. 

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he breathed in your scent. 

“Cyare, hang in there. Please, I can’t …” he cleared his throat, fighting back the warm bubble that was creeping up his throat, “Tech’s taking the ship to a medical way station that’s been abandoned since the war, he says there should be a surgery room, equipment and maybe supplies. So hang in there. Please.” 

He reached up and wiped away the tear that had escaped, he pressed his lips to your temple, “Cyare,” he whispered, “Don’t go where I can’t follow … please, I need you, baby.” 

Tears were streaming down his face, he couldn’t lose you, not when he finally found his peace. His rock. His home. 

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[dittos-blog-dylanobrien]

Love it 😻

💓💓💓

How about Mafia!Sirius x Reader with age gap (all legal ofc) and him just spoiling them rotten and a little bit of that I'll burn the world for you 😁🔥 Pretty please?

Today is Multiverse Monday! Send me any AU you can think of :)

bye i'm sorry this was more of a sugar daddy au than mafia but feel free to request it again if you want me to focus more on the mafia aspect!

--

"Anything I want?" There's an air of hope in your voice that makes Sirius's smile deepen as he nods.

"Anything y'want, baby. Go on, look around, show me what'cha like." He gestures around the boutique, silently hoping that you'd head over to the lingerie section rather than the rack of gaudy hats that hung on the wall.

You begin by looking at plush sweaters, and point at the soft yellow one, "Can I have that?"

"Of course y'can, baby, let's get one of each color. Y'can have one for every day of the week," He reaches out to yank a sweater of each color out of the neatly stacked piles, draping them over his arm as you grin widely at him.

You hit the small rack of jewelry next, pointing eagerly at a pretty silver chain with a pink, heart-shaped gemstone in the middle, "'N this?"

"'S yours." He slips it off of the rack, hooking it around your neck before you get the chance to pay for it. An employee behind the counter shoots him a warning gaze, gazing down at the necklace you wear and back up at Sirius, but the man only stares back at her, eyes daring her to challenge him.

Thankfully, you pick up on none of this, already rushing towards a white pleated skirt with your pleading gaze locked onto Sirius, "Siri, this'll go with the sweaters!"

"I think so too," He chuckles at your eagerness, "Hand it over, baby."

You sling a skirt over his arm, eyes widening slightly at the collection of lingerie you'd wandered over next to. Sirius quickly herds you towards a dressing room, setting down all of your clothes and prompting you to pluck a few pieces of lingerie off of the tables it was displayed on.

He sends the employee another intimidating stare, extra conscious of his hand on your hip, slipped slightly under your shirt as he tugs you into a dressing room. The employee only looks away in mild alarm, leaving him smirking at you from behind the closed doors of the dressing room.

"Right then, let's see how my pretty baby looks in her pretty new clothes."

[angelbitezzz]

waaa congrats on the 700 angel!!!!

also also.. silly request alert!!!

angel giving sans a kissy? (platonic or romantic) unless you're saving it for specials specials (can be anywhere as well! hand, cheek, teet-)

here's much gift for you too yes yes

WAAAH SO CUTE! Thanks for the drawing and your support!!

Imagine this takes place earlier on after his "capture" at Angel's hands as a Spooky Servant. In fact I like this one so much I'm writing a short fic for this under the cut.

Getting out of the cage was easy work, given his inability to abide by the laws of space entirely. All it took was a half-step forward and he was in the grass outside the shed they'd put him in (Was it on purpose? More than likely, knowing Koffin-K. Guess it was high time he'd gotten a taste of his own medicine. Heh.)

"Jesus!"

He was thankful for the fact that he had such immaculate self control, because the sudden yelp of surprise from his left would've made him jump out of his skin if he'd had any. He turned, found himself face to face with Angel, looking at him with a face that said "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." that sparked amusement.

"no, i'm crossbones. but good guess, kid."

"Oh haha, very funny. What're you doing out?"

"it takes more than that to capture justice." He paused, and then grinned a little wider. "...the door was unlocked."

"The cage doesn't have a door!"

"huh. that's a dangerous design choice. fitting for villainy, i guess."

"Well...we are at Koffin Keep. I guess I'd better stop you, because the count is definitely watching."

Sans's gaze strayed across her, trying to think of a good way to distract her long enough to get away. Preferably, with about as much comedy as possible. He took his chances when he could. They landed on her free hand; the other busy rummaging in some back pocket to that red jacket she was in for something. Had to stop whatever it is that was about.

He moved without thinking.

...Her skin was warm against his teeth. He wasn't sure why he was so aware of that. Generally, his own body ran at room temp, maybe even a little cold thanks to all the vents that came with being in a body made of sticks, essentially. Maybe that was why his focus was so centered to the knuckles pressed softly to his mouth, gloved hand in hers as the white fabric warmed from the contact.

Oh, shit, he'd forgotten what he was trying to do.

Stealing a glance upwards, he could see the shock on her face. Could read her thoughts without even needing to CHECK, see the surprise give way to a flustered confusion, brown cheeks warming to red. A bead of sweat slid down his skull at the sight, and then he jittered away, gone before she could even draw the breath to speak.

Standing with his back pressed to a tree outside the walls of Koffin Keep, feeling much like if he had a heart that the organ would be rattling the inside of his ribcage without knowing why.

...Better get out of here before she came looking.

[arcanenewswatch]

Arcane Newswatch - Day 1085: Farewell

After 1085 days of waiting, 573 days of it tracked by this account, Arcane has returned. With that, the count is finally finished and there is nothing left but to say farewell. I thank you all, everyone who liked and reblogged and sent the asks that helped me break up the monotony of posting the same picture every single day; I won’t lie, there were some tough and exceptionally boring stretches, especially there in the Day 700 range, but you all helped me power through and make it to the end. Also, I’d like to extend a collective thank you for all the kind messages sent to the inbox over the last couple days. While there’s a few too many to respond to, I’ve read every one of them and it truly means a lot to me

I’ll be leaving this blog open, a time capsule of sorts for however long Tumblr exists as a platform. But barring a surprise season 3 announcement from Riot one day, this is where we must say goodbye. It’s never easy to shut the lights off and lock the door on the way out, especially for something as relatively long-running as this turned out to be (I earnestly believed Arcane was returning in a year or less when I started this in April 2023), but the time has finally come. If you wish to follow my other, equally obsessive Arcane works (and if you can forgive me for a bit of self-promotion), my fics can be found on AO3 under NatDammit. But regardless of whether we meet again in the comments section of one fic or another, or if this is indeed our final goodbye, I hope you all enjoy the new season and I wish you all the best. Thanks for coming along for the ride

This is Nat from Arcane Newswatch, signing off