#Glamorous horse

[feralxe]

man who tf DM me, freaky ass horse 💀

[jerreeeeeee]

they call the sizzle it up vehicle a stagecoach presumably because it has “stage” in the name, but a coach is a passenger vehicle and not large enough for a kitchen/living space. it’s probably more similar to a chuckwagon

[innytoes]

Something less angstful

Title: I know you love me wearing nothing but your boots, or just Boots.

I know you love me wearing nothing but your boots

When Reggie inherited his Meemaw's farm, he was pretty worried that his partner wouldn't leave the city. Willie had his art, his friends, his cool job as a dancing waiter at one of the most exclusive clubs in town...

But Willie did. And he loved the farm, and the horses, and being able to see the stars. And most of all, he loved Reggie. Which he was going to show him, with a few props for emphasis.

Yeehaw.

[mamamittens]

I feel a need for a third sexy cowboy riding a mechanical bull. For.... Reasons.

[mayorwhisper]

Fact: sunflowers are my favorite flower!

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

[bucknastysbabe]

idk if your taking requests but I’m in desperate need of more modern AU Jace fics. Maybe if he was a cocky hockey player with his giant dick I need smut 🙏

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Hockey player!Jace, Actress!Reader, fake dating trope, my not sly commentary about parasocial fangirl behaviors and pressure on women in high profile industries, she has honkers and he has a horse cawk match made in heaven, Jacey is a little sweet babey always, real kittycat eating hours, teasing, pnv!sex, v!fingering, fast burn, lots of banter :)

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @valeskafics @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii

The contracts were to be signed today. Jace was to be in a PR ‘relationship’ with this break-out actress. He was a star himself in the NHL, winning the Hart Memorial trophy for being the most valuable player his rookie year. He played centre, covering the ice and passing to his teammates to make a goal. He got a huge deal in the aftermath.

Suddenly his world was much more glamorous.

He wasn’t sure who sucked whose dick but he agreed to dating the starlet. He flew down from Toronto to the upscale management office in New York to meet the chick. He’d heard her name, couldn’t put a face to it, and certainly didn’t look her up. The brunette hoped she was a looker like his manager said.

He was pleasantly surprised, shaking her manicured hand. Jacaerys grinned as he introduced himself, poorly hiding his leering gaze on her tight little body. The actress was smoking hot. He wondered if she would be down to fool around. He had no desire for romance outside of planned sightings. He wasn’t much into that at the moment. Jace dated his high school sweetheart Rhaena until he’d gone big time.

She didn’t acclimate to fame and his constant absence. Jace understood why she broke it off. When they were seen— reporters interrupted. Pictures of fan girls crowding around him surfaced all the time. She deleted her socials due to harassment. He was saddened but figured it was a sign to let loose. So let loose he did.

Jacaerys had fucked plenty of puck bunnies, professional athletes, and the occasional hook-up with famous names by now. His brother called him cocky, and his mother snapped to not let the fame get to his head. He listened, truly, Jace loved his family and wanted to make them proud.

But honestly? When he was accomplishing everything he dreamed of and the money was flowing in, Jace couldn’t help but feel a bit over-confident. He knew he was talented, handsome, and a good fuck. He’d learned from a young age that his…dick…was different. In layman’s terms, he had a horse cock. By God, he was proud of that thing too.

They sat down in adjacent chairs, waiting for the agent to come to debrief them on the terms of the relationship. Jacaerys' brown eyes flicked over to her bored face, down to her busty chest, and back up. She scoffed “You haven’t seen my tits on the silver screen?”

He grinned, asking “I don’t get around to movies much. Care to enlighten me?”

Her lips turned into a frown, posture stiffening up. The actress shook her head, pulling out her phone to text rapidly. She was likely talking shit. Jace prodded, “What? Am I missing something? I’m playing hockey year round babe.”

“I literally am up for a Golden Globe for leading actress in a drama,” she grumbled, “Apparently you don’t read either.” She turned back to type on her phone again, lips settling into a pout. The athlete was a little taken aback by her attitude. He liked it. It appeared she was used to cinephile sycophants and co-stars trying to get a piece.

He hummed a laugh, spreading out in the wide chair. They waited, her nails clicking on the cell phone beginning to irritate Jacaerys. He absently asked "You like hockey? It's pretty fun to watch live."

"I don't really pay attention to sports, I act year round babe."

Jace's eyes widened in surprise. She was a spitfire under the glossy hair and now placid expression. He knew better than to irk her more, his mother taught him to respect women. The athlete was drawn in, he wanted a reaction, the attention whether it was negative or not. He smirked at her, leaning over, "Why did you pick me then? Don't like hockey, don't seem quite fond of me."

Her own lips curled a bit, the woman tucking a loose lock of hair behind a jeweled ear. She stated, "I got a list, you were single and cute. Word on the street was that you were a bit nicer than who I am sitting with now. Don't worry, it won't be too long, you'll be back to railing your way through Toronto soon." Her smile was thin, a blank look to her eyes.

Jace's chest fluttered a bit, guilt seeping into his mind. Before he could apologize the door opened. A man in a suit briskly walked in, setting down some papers. He eyed the pair to ask "Ready for the terms?" They both nodded, and Jace noticed her frown grow deeper. Damn. He felt like an asshole.

"Alright Jacaerys Velaryon, you'll be 'dating' my client for three months minimum. If you two hit it off, good job, enjoy your relationship. You two must be seen in public at least bi-weekly, my client will be at your games, and maintaining PDA is required. I'd recommend going out with your friends and playing the part. We'll sign an NDA and get this show on the road. Sound good?"

"Sure."

"Can't wait," she deadpanned.

They scribbled their names and exited the meeting. The actress ignored Jacaerys as she left, answering a phone call, pointedly looking away. He eventually cornered her up to exchange phone numbers. The pair had to exit the building at separate times so as not to draw attention.

Jace decided to read up on his faux girlfriend for the flight home. The actress was talented, the same age as him, and booked for the year. He decided to shoot her a text, damned lingering guilt eating at him. The hockey player was soft at heart, always had been. He could play the part of a cocky athlete but he truly hated confrontation, upsetting others, and general dickishness. That was for his uncles.

"Sorry about being a dick. Going to watch your movie tonight. Should I start with your small role in that sitcom?"

His dark eyes raptly watched the typing bubble. It disappeared, reappeared-- finally a response showed up. She had replied with an emoji rolling its eyes. "God, please don't, I look like a freak. The movie is much better. Then you can tell me about my tits. Apology accepted. See you next week in Toronto, make sure to clean the thongs outta your place."

Jace grinned, excitement coursing through his veins. He ended up making a big show picking her up from the airport. He grabbed the luggage and put it in his new sleek car. A couple of people had stopped her, even Jace for some autographs. The brunette made sure to hug the actress-- pulling her in for a searing kiss. His hand possessively splayed across her lower back, fingers grazing her pert ass.

He opened the door to let her in the car, cameras flashing now. Jace leaned in to whisper, "I have to admit, you have a beautiful body." She flushed and pecked his lips again, shooting him a smile. The hockey player climbed into the driver's side and off they went. He snuck a look and added, "I didn't really find any thongs but everything is pristine, Miss Golden Globe Nominee."

"Good, Mister Hart Trophy Winner."

Jace couldn't help but smile. He enjoyed her banter while they headed to his place. The woman was witty and playful, her icy facade melting as he listened to her. Jace carried her bags into the luxury apartment complex, while she had a roller bag. He teased, "You got boulders in here?"

"I'm staying for a bit, need to be prepared. You can run around in a tracksuit and no one bats an eye. If I look like a slob the tabloids are going to wonder if I'm a drunk or something. You won't believe the 'inside sources' I apparently have."

Jace frowned, scoffing, "That's bullshit. They put so much pressure on women in the industry."

She gazed at him, eyes softened as she thanked him in a reverent tone. Jace felt his cheeks heat up. He was beginning to wonder if he was having a moment of weakness or simply struck dumb by her looks and powerful presence. "At the least, I'm not a model."

Jacaerys snorted. He's had his fair share of models. He assumed they were all a bit nutty from the coke, not the horrid pressure from their nigh-impossible standards of beauty to uphold. "Good point," he conceded.

She stared around his loft, lips quirking up. The woman placed her bag down and strolled to the huge windows overlooking the city. Casting a glance back at Jacaerys she marveled, "It's gorgeous Jacaerys. Much prettier than LA." He smiled and replied, "Wait until you see it at night, I never get tired of the view."

Jace liked the way she said his full name. Maybe too much. He felt his cheeks begin to burn again. His animal hindbrain tittered "How would she sound moaning that?"

Awkwardness settled over the pair, her turning back to look out the window. Jace stated, "I'll put your things in the guest room, it's got a big bathroom and all."

"Thanks hun," she hummed. She followed along to place the luggage down, flopping onto the bed. Her big eyes followed Jace's form as she commented, "I highly doubt you decorated the place but it's nice. Very...Feng shui."

"Mom did all of that, I do try to keep it clean. I fear she'll appear and scold me. You could lick off the floor at my place growing up."

"Ha! I wish! I'm cluttered as all get out."

Jace gave her a faux glare, "Better keep it tidy, babe."

"Uh-huh, sure, what's on the docket for today? I want a tour and a cocktail to cap it off at dinner."

"You mean the club?"

Jace couldn't stop his cock from twitching when she smiled at him coquettishly, sparkling teeth gleaming as she purred "Of course stud, let's see what the rake of the Maple Leafs is putting down. I wanna see you dance!"

Oh. He was in quite deep. Jacaerys Velaryon might have developed an infatuation faster than he could pass a puck.

They held hands walking around Toronto, catching lunch as he showed her the sights. They rested on a bench in a park, Jace's arm slung around her shoulders, their heads close together as they spoke. The pair of them stared at her phone, giggling. The actress read off the Instagram post, "Starlet dating hockey star Jace Velaryon?"

"They're quick with it, for the love of god don't look at the comments."

Her pretty eyes rolled, "They call me an industry whore, nothing new, let me see this." Her red lacquered nail clicked on the comments. She guffawed, lips spreading into a smile. Jace raised a brow and looked over. He shook his head in annoyance-- how could 'fans' of his be so angry? Wouldn't they want him to be happy?

'Please, this won't last a second.'

'Pr relationship so obvious.'

'Jaceeeee whyyyyy she's such a bad actress.'

"A Golden Globe nominee is a bad actress? God, don't listen to that nonsense," he grumbled, tightening his arm around her shoulders. She shrugged and clicked on a fan page of her own. Jace seemed to settle at the more uplifting comments. He laughed out loud at one, 'Loveeee get it mother!' Jace outright guffawed at the second one, 'Be careful babes, don't get split by his infamous horse dick!!!'

"I like my fans better. I'll have to check out your fan cams at some point."

Jace rolled his eyes, helplessly grinning. His eyes flicked to a camera shuttering. Ah great, paparazzi, he thought. The brunette was planning on intentionally kissing her. He glared at the person and sniffed, "Come on, let's head back to my place for a bit." She cooed "What? Don't want your pic taken Jacey?"

"Nope, we need nap time before hitting the nightlife."

"I hope we see Drake. That would be cool."

Jace laughed his ass off. When they got into the elevator he crowded her up, hands on her waist. She inhaled, eyes widening, full lips quirking up. He murmured softly, "You're so...I can't find the words." Her arms loosely linked around his shoulders, soft lips so close. She whispered, "Actions speak louder than words pretty boy."

Next thing Jace knew her legs were locked around his hips, the pair making out as he blindly keyed open the door to his loft. Kicking the door open, the brunette pressed her against the wall, mouthing his way down her neck. The actress' nails dug into his shoulders as she moaned, breasts heaving in excitement. He nipped at her collarbone, mumbling, "Lemme eat you out, fuck, please."

"Bed now," she demanded in return.

He deposited the beauty on his bed, wildly jerking at his clothes. She was shimmying off her leggings, the sweatshirt she borrowed hitting the wall. Jace climbed atop her in his underwear, grinding against her pussy, mouth latching back onto plush lips. She whined under her breath when he lapped into her mouth, calloused hands playing with peaked nipples.

They grew sloppy, Jace finally kissing and sucking his way down her tight body. He grabbed one of her legs as he sucked on the thin skin of the hip, dark eyes blown black with arousal. She gripped at his hair, breathless, "Fu-uck Jacaerys, please, please." Jace grinned, rumbling, "I gotcha baby, screw the club, I'll show you a good time tonight yeah?" He was hopelessly earnest, swollen lips hovering above her mound.

"Yes yes baby, want it all, please, you're killing me." Jace could lose his mind at the way her voice cracked into a whimper, brows pinching in agony. She even thrust fruitlessly upwards-- Jace's other hand keeping her hip pinned. He grunted, "Spread em' sweetheart."

He tongued at her engorged clit off the rip, hands digging into the soft meat of the thighs. The actress cried out, back arching all gorgeous, tits bouncing with the movement. Her hand tightened in his curls as Jace suckled, eyes watching every little move. He snuck his fore and middle fingers up and across her sopping slit, smirking.

He delved them into her cunt as his tongue joined, playfully lapping as the excess slick, moaning at her natural taste. She whimpered again, thighs tightening as Jacaerys crooked his fingers up into her g-spot, flicking his tongue upwards and back to her clitoris. He paused to groan, "You feel good pretty girl?"

She moaned his name and babbled nonsense, pussy throbbing and drenching his fingers. Jacaerys' smiled-- she moaned his name just as he imagined. He had a rhythm alternating between teasing jabs of his tongue and suckling on the bundle of nerves. She was growing frantic, tossing her hair around and practically howling in pleasure.

He sped up the pace, relentlessly working her pretty pussy until the darling shrieked his name, clenching his hair. Her thighs twitched and clamped around his head, body arched as she heaved and cried. Jace groaned at her gushing around his fingers, long lashes fluttering in pure want. He needed to fuck her, now.

He pulled down his briefs as she laid back, panting, pretty face dazed and flushed-- a light sheen of sweat had covered her naked body. He climbed atop her, pleading, "C'mon sweets, think you can take it? Take me? I'll give you another orgasm, too goddamn perfect not too, god."

Her lidded eyes widened at his cock. It was flushed and heavy, too heavy to do anything but hang between his impossibly toned thighs. The actress rasped, "Give it to me, I can take it, ease it in." She kissed the brunette open-mouthed and wet, shaky legs pulling up to cage his hips in.

Jace's breath stuttered as he guided the fat tip of his cock into her soaked pussy, feeling the stretch immediately. She clung to him, pouring herself into his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He slid in another agonizing two inches, gasping, "Fuck you're tight."

She responded by sucking blooming marks into his tensed neck, eyes rolling up when the thick middle of his cock spread her wide open. "Jacaerys, Jacaerys, you feel so good- so damn big baby!" He kept pushing against the slight resistance, settling as deep as he could.

His brown eyes clenched tight, she was like a silky glove around his cock. Hazily he felt her stomach, eyes lolling around at the bump from his cock. She was mewling wetly at the junction of neck and shoulder, non-stop babbling about being so full. Jace panted, "Mm, yeah, lookit' you, stretched your pretty pussy out."

He began to fuck in earnest, chasing a high. Her cunt dragged and clung to his fat cock, ridged insides sending sharp arousal up his spine. Jace lost himself in the moment, mouthing at a pert nipple, heavy balls slapping against her ass. She cried and yelled, worthy of a fucking porno. He knew he wasn't going to last long. But the way she was practically shivering and fuck-dumb, slurring her words of nonsense, she was right with Jace.

"M'gonna cum baby, you on birth control?"

"Fuck me, jus' keep fuckin' me," she rasped. Plan B was always an option when her mind returned to non-mush. Jace kept fucking her as instructed, groans growing desperate and guttural. His balls were drawing up, aching from how needy he was to cum.

He kissed her one more time, swallowing her noises before pulling back to pant against her cheek, hips beginning to stutter. He snuck a hand down to her cunt, thumbing her clit. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better-- she shrieked again. A gush of her slick engulfed his cock, wet noises filling the bedroom. Jace cried her name, shoving himself deep and filling her up.

He might've sent her into another orgasm but Jacaerys was whited out from pleasure. All the athlete could do was pathetically groan as his cock twitched and pumped his heavy load into her cock, thickening the slick coating on his prick, collecting around where they joined. It was delightfully filthy. He came too with a deep inhale, sliding out with a mewl and flopping away.

Overstimulation was a common theme with the girls he fucked-- Jace knew to give some space in the immediate aftermath. It wasn't too long before she complained, "Why are you flopped over there? Get over here, you just fucked my brains out."

He grinned like a sap. How did she have yet another moment where he found himself deeper in desire for the woman. Jace murmured, "My bad, my bad, didn't want to overheat you or anything." She retorted, "I'm a cuddler Jacaerys Velaryon, you should remember that about your girlfriend." He chuckled, jerking her into his embrace, tucking a chin on her shoulder.

"They didn't lie about your horse dick. Hate to tell your fan girlies that cock belongs to me now."

Jace smirked, pressing a gentle peck to her skin, "It's all yours, believe me. They can find the next rookie of the year to be their online boyfriend."

[hisui-dreamer]

where the light is dim

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: everyone's wandered off in the festival, and you can't even find a familiar face

Tags: poetic themes, fluff, diasomnia shenanigans

Word count: 436

Notes: happy chinese new year everyone🧧🏮🎆!! this was heavily inspired by a chinese poem that takes place on new years (which i attempted a translation of below hehe), and plus it's the year of the dragon, so now we have mal mal festival time (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Masterlist

The east wind blows breezes a thousand blossoming trees,

The stars, like rain, descend like a gentle breeze.

Bejewelled carriages and fine horses leave a fragrant trail on the road,

Phoenix flutes resound in the wind, the jade lantern’s light flows,

All night, the fish and dragon lanterns dance.

Maidens adorned with gold, extravagant pins in their hair,

Smiling shyly, fragrance lingering in the air.

In the crowd, searching countless times,

Suddenly, turning my head,

There stands the one, where the light is dim.

―青玉案・元夕 辛棄疾

The street pulses with energy, vibrant and bustling beneath a canopy of scarlet lanterns that sway gently in the evening breeze. Each lantern, adorned with intricate designs and tassels, casts a warm, inviting glow that bathes the cobblestone pavement below in a rich crimson hue.

The air is alive with the hum of chatter and laughter, as locals and visitors alike meander through the thoroughfare, their footsteps echoing against the ancient brick walls that line the street. Vendors peddle their wares from colourful stalls, their voices competing with the lively strains of traditional music that drift from nearby taverns and teahouses.

'Where is he?' you thought to yourself, tired from the heavy ornaments painstakingly styled into your hair as you turned and turned your head to catch even a glimpse of him amidst the bustling crowd.

Malleus had invited you to a short trip to the Far East, prompted by Silver's longing to explore the lands of his childhood hero, and swiftly organized by Lilia's enthusiastic urging. You're not sure whether Lilia was aware of it or not, your travels happened to coincide with a grand local festival.

The street offers a multitude of intrigue, from mouth-watering scents from the food skewers to the delicate souvenirs hand-crafted by merchants, and it's not long before you find yourselves gradually becoming separated from the group amidst the bustling crowd. The allure of the vibrant surroundings pulls each person in a different direction, until eventually, you can no longer spot any familiar faces amidst the sea of glamorous outfits adorning the local ladies.

A whirring noise catches your attention, and you turn to the direction of the sound. Your gaze is met with the spectacle of fireworks illuminating the night sky, their explosions of brilliance painting the heavens with vibrant hues, scattering glittering sparks like diamonds. Brilliant reds, dazzling blues, and alluring golds intertwine and collide, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colour that captivates all who gaze upon it.

It's a view you want to share with him.

You weave through the crowd once again, deftly sidestepping opulent carriages and elegant ladies. Their alluring perfume mingles with the joyous melodies of the flutes, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you momentarily dizzy.

A glance down a narrow alley catches your attention, and in the distance, a lone lantern flickers. Squinting to sharpen your focus, you realise you've found the very person you're looking for.

Malleus, tucked away in the shadowy corner, his focus fixed solely upon a weathered lion stone statue.

You can't help the exasperated smile that graces your lips.

Maybe you should've expected that.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[filthyslashertoad]

The Slashers & Miscellaneous Reacting to You Breaking Your Leg

Patrick Bateman(You already know)

Asks you if you want sparkling water, not painkillers, or comfort, just sparkling water.

If you're in a "relationship" with him, he may bring you his signed record from Huey Lewis and The News so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Michael Myers

Tries to avoid you at all costs because he feels like he might accidentally hurt you.

Even when you're sleeping, he'll sleep somewhere else during that time because he doesn't want to move suddenly and risk you injuring yourself more. (Sympathetic Mikey)

Pyramid Head

Just quietly watches you.

Brings you things that he thinks may help you or that you'll enjoy.

Leon Kennedy

Doesn't really know how to empathize with you properly because he doesn't want to come off as an asshole.

He resorts to sending you little Post-it notes and cards that have horse jokes on them. (Don't ask why they're horses specifically)

(Btw, Chris and Carlos suggested the idea)

Carlos Oliveira

Refuses to leave your side .

Tries his hardest not to cling to you.

He's a super sympathetic boy, so he somewhat blames himself for your injury and feels liable for it. (Pls reassure him)

Poly!Ghostface

Stu brings markers to sign your cast and while he's doing that, Billy is in the corner stressing and overthinking.

Stu draws dinosaurs and little skulls all over your cast, if you're lucky he may even draw one of your favorite horror movie characters, though it has to be labeled because nobody knows who it is.

Heisenberg

Tries to glamorize your cast by making a metal one that has spikes and different decals all over it.

It ends up being a nuisance and he almost stabs himself in the leg when he hugs you.

Hellboy

Keeps a close eye on you for the duration of your injury.

Develops a bit of an attitude when people try to bother you when you're resting or in pain.

Danny Johnson

Sends you dumb articles that loosely or have nothing to do with the fact that you broke your leg and when you ask him why tf he sent it, he just says, "I wanted to make your day better😊"

When he thinks that you're upset with him he shows up with a cast of his own and shouts "TWINS!!! NOW WE CAN GET BETTER TOGETHER."(No he didn't actually break his leg, and yes he will be using it as an excuse to be lazy)

Hannibal Lecter

Becomes your own professional nurse.

Nurse Hannibal is now at your service. Prescribes you any and all medication you need and gives you advice on how to heal as fast as possible.

Takes time off of work to take care of you. (It's not often that he gets to pamper people this way and he enjoys doing it for you)

[maple-the-awesome]

He's Becomes a Dad || Part 2/2

Part 1

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Sky, Wild x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. Warning: Mentions of miscarriages for Sky's section. Nothing to detailed, but it's there so beware 🙅‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's never been a surprise to you that Twilight would want kids of his own. He never even had to say it aloud, you could just read that look in his eyes whenever playing with the village children. It was a wordless yet ever so contagious request: I want this. And how were you to deny him? Just look at him!

Simply put, children were a top priority of yours almost as soon as you married. It didn't take long for you to become pregnant either (not with Twilight's fierce passion and your shared disinterest towards 'waiting'). Regardless, there were still many tears shed when you found out - all happy, of course, as your husband spun you around in his arms while you both laughed giddily in between quick kisses.

Let's get this straight: Twilight is prepared-prepared. Ordon is that type of close-knit community where everyone helps raise each other's kids, so despite this being his first rodeo as a new dad himself, he has plenty of experience taking care of youngsters. As a ranch-hand, he's also perfectly accustomed to the whole birthing process, having hand-delivered more baby goats than he can count, so don’t worry, nothing about the ‘less glamorous’ sides of pregnancy scare him. 

With that being said, Twilight doesn't stress too much aside from the normal concerns about your health, after all he recognizes that not every pregnancy is the same for every woman, but that's exactly why he makes it his personal mission to ensure your comfort. 

Feeling particularly ill? He'll make you all the tasty pumpkin soup you could ask for which, believe it or not, works wonders for an upset stomach. Just having a bad day? He'll happily let you cuddle with Wolfie to help you relax. Restless? He'll take you on a horse ride no matter the hour and if you're too far along in your pregnancy to climb onto Epona, a simple walk to Ordon's spring will do since that's the perfect spot to soak your sore body. Twilight is no above carrying you there himself if you ask.

Trust that your every worry is always smoothed; Twilight is there to reassure you no matter how 'little' the problem. Have concerns he can't speak on as a man? He'll happily go ask one of the other village women for you if you're too embarrassed to do so yourself, in fact this guy's already been talking Rusl and Uli's ears off for advice since day one. He doesn't want to leave a single thing to chance regardless of how confident he already feels which is probably why there's a stack of parenting books on his nightstand. Did he clear the shelves in Castle Town? Probably.

You're pretty sure that Twilight already had a 'go-bag' put together before the end of your first trimester, although he’d add to it like a paranoid squirrel up until your due-date. Curious, you had gone through it one day just to get a hint of how overboard he might've gone. Diapers, snacks, blankets, comfortable clothes for you, more parenting books...He does realize you're doing a home birth, right? Most of this stuff he could just grab from the cabinet if needed, but it's sweet that he's trying to be organized.

It isn’t really news to anyone that Hyrule’s heroes tend to land on the quieter side and usually Twilight isn’t much different…There’s a key word in there because you’re quite certain he hasn’t actually shut up since the second you told him you’re pregnant. He can hardly keep his excitement to himself! Oh, but it’s adorable, especially on those nights when he’ll fall asleep mumbling about his joy all while using your swollen stomach as a pillow. It makes your heart swell every time.

When you eventually go into labor, Twilight doesn’t show much outward panic if he has any at all, however he does feel incredibly terrible to watch you go through it without any relief. He feels absolutely useless while unable to take away your suffering the way a good husband should, so to make up for it, he does his utmost best to be your rock during those long hours, talking you through each painful contraction and doing everything in his power to distract you. Back rubs, walks around the house, whispers of sweet nothings…He’s by your side well into the night, keeping it up until it finally comes time to start pushing.

He definitely was not going to say it while you were going through the motions because he’d like to keep his head, but human and goat births are pretty much the same thing minus the actual cursing. He’s in his element then, knowing exactly what to do to ensure a safe delivery for mama and baby. His movements are almost automatic, trained by years of practice as he cleans the little one off before taking the time to admire them fully.

Are you shocked that Twilight is teary eyed? Not at all. Are you upset that he almost forgets about you entirely for a second because he’s so entranced by the baby? Also no, since you need a moment to catch your breath anyway. Don’t worry, though, he does eventually pass you your son reluctantly before hovering at your side with possibly the widest grin you’ve ever seen on the man since your wedding day. 

The rest of the night is calm from there on, filled with quiet whispers and cooing as you both take turns partaking in skin-to-skin contact with your baby. Will you be doing this again soon? You’re probably going to need a decent break to recover, but just know that your husband is absolutely ready whenever you are. In the meantime, expect to be showered in endless love and affection because you deserve it for the priceless gift you’ve given him.

Your relationship with Warrior has always been ‘slow moving’ if compared to most other couples’. For starters, while he may have a formidable reputation for being a supposed lady's man, all that 'skill' of his would go flying out the window whenever faced with your presence, so it took some time (and maybe a near-death experience) for any confessions to be made. In his defense, you're a very beautiful and strong woman who happened to be one of his superiors during most of the war, so please excuse him for usually being awed into silence whenever you showed even an ounce of interest in ‘lil ol’ him. His brain would literally become a windows error.

Even after Warrior did finally find the courage to ask you out, your respected jobs and heavy workloads have often forced your relationship to be put on the back-burner. Marry you? Hylia knows he’s been DYING to! You’re already wearing the ring and everything, but it's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon and he'd rather wait a few extra years to enjoy the perfect moment rather than rush the whole ‘happiest-day-of-our-lives’ thing during a bad time.

Luckily for him, you've never needed a formal certificate to know you own his heart. He proves it to you in other ways every day from cheesy love letters to overly romantic dates during your rare off time, and while you normally adore being the sole subject of his affection, that's exactly how you ended up in this very situation.

You're both adults and as such you won't pretend to be innocent: This wasn't planned in the slightest. Your jobs can be quite chaotic, as previously addressed, so you just wanted to help your husband-to-be relax and destress a bit - nothing new for either of you in itself, although that particular evening would end up weighing heavily on your mind a few weeks later.

To be honest, when you first entered Warrior's office and instructed him to sit down with a stern voice that could rival Commander Impa's, he thought you must've finally grown tired of being engaged for several years, having come to him then to demand that he marry you sooner. Agreement was right on the tip of his tongue when you delivered the bombshell that you were pregnant instead.

Your tone was serious and expression calm, but Warrior knows you well enough to spot the hidden worry in your eyes. It’s justified, of course. Had either of you even discussed having kids before? He doesn’t think so. It’s not like having a baby is a bad thing, though. The idea of creating a small family with you is a pleasant one, it’s just…happening a lot sooner than preferred. You both would’ve liked more time to plan and prepare…but oh well. What’s done is done. 

The real concern is will your jobs allow you both time off to take care of a baby? It's not like a war is currently going on, so Hyrule won't suffer too much from having two of its best captains sidelined, however what happens if that doesn't remain the case? What if war breaks out tomorrow or the day after? Warrior can’t let his pregnant fiancée fight in battles! What kind of husband and father would that make him?! But at the same time, is he just supposed to ask that you sacrifice your career in order to spare his? THAT’S NO BETTER!

...All things considered, you'd say Warrior handles the news far better than some might've. Yes, he begins to ‘slightly’ overthink things, although that's exactly why you had him sit down first. Calmly, you take his hand and tell him how things will be (your own way of offering comfort not only to him, but yourself as well). The bottom line is that if you could successfully fight Ganondorf’s army together, you can raise a child together, too. Really, how much harder can it be? You already have some minor experience being unofficial parents to little Time and Wind during the war. Just don't give your own children any magic masks or wind controlling devices and you should be golden.

Thankfully, many of Warrior’s initial fears are proven to be irrational during the earliest stages of your pregnancy. Everyone else was positively thrilled to hear the news and even Impa gave her congratulations, explaining to your fiancé’s relief that she’ll simply assign you more deskwork until it’s fit for you to return back to your normal duties. All he has to worry about in the meantime is making sure you actually take it easy; only a slightly difficult task considering your headstrong nature and insistence on not being ‘coddled’, but hey, if anyone can handle it, it’s the guy who’s hellbent on marrying your stubborn butt one day.

Warrior will admit that there were still some nights when he would nearly pull his hair out while doubting if he’s actually ready to be a dad, however the moment you officially being showing is the same moment he forgets all about any possible regrets and replaces them entirely with daydreams filled with not only his lovely wife, but also a little one who will hopefully think the absolute world of him. He already knows he’ll think of it of them.

Although you may feel a bit nervous towards the prospect of suddenly being parents, that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t choose anyone else to go through this journey with. One look to your side and you’re certain of it. The way Warrior holds his son for the first time, newborn wrapped comfortably in his scarf and dad, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion after hours of labor yet the proud smile evident on his face nevertheless…You were right before: so long as you do it together, you’ll excel in this whole ‘parenting-thing’.

You had married young - almost as soon as you were able after graduating from the Knight Academy. To everyone else on Skyloft, you have always been the picture image of an ideal couple; the hero and his beloved princess who somehow manage to be completely and utterly smitten with each other even years later. To call Sky your husband is a blessing in itself and you consider yourself lucky every single day. There’s only ever been one problem with your relationship - one single complaint you can think of where neither of you are truly responsible: your lack of children.

When you first married, there was lots of talk, after all everyone was simply dying to know when the first generation on the Surface would be born. Your parents were eager for grandchildren and Zelda, your best friend, had way too much fun teasing you over the matter by expressing her 'surprise' that Sky had yet to give you a baby despite how 'passionate' he’s always been towards you (she would make sure to use those exact words, too). 

Initially, you never minded anyone’s curiosity. It’s only natural to expect children from a newly wed couple. It's when that same couple reaches their third then sixth year of marriage without any trace of tiny feet or squealing laughter that those curious and well-meant questions grow quiet with unbearable pity, your shared excitement becoming shuttered sorrow.

At the start there was nothing to worry about. You were both young and not putting that much effort into it, so certain it wouldn't take long for your family to grow. Then the years began to pass and you would try everything the doctor recommended, but every test would still leave you as disappointed as the last. The absolutely worst form of despair came those few times you'd actually get your hopes up only to have them cruelly dashed a few months in.

What were you doing wrong? Sky would always hush your anxieties and do his utmost best to reassure you, however you knew by his own tears that your infertility hurt him just as much, especially when on those quieter nights, you'd suggest that perhaps you simply weren't meant to be parents - that the gods were just trying to tell you both something you were too stubborn to accept.

It's for that reason that you had such mixed emotions once finally able to fall pregnant again. You were optimistic deep down, however after six years of attempts and losses, you were wary to embrace too much joy right away which was shown in the way Sky held onto you for what felt like hours after you told him or how he slept each night with a hand on your stomach even in those early days, internally praying to the goddesses this would be the one.

A month passed...Then two...And three, and four…For once, you didn't feel sick aside from what was considered normal. Maybe a bit of high blood pressure the doctor kept a close eye on, but other than that he’d always tell Sky and you the same thing: they're healthy.

Even then, you’d say you remained extra cautious, not daring to eat nor do anything the doctor so much as hesitated against, however Sky was by far the worst when it came to worrying. As your husband, he considers your physical and mental well-being his personal responsibility, but as the father of your child? His work has doubled!

All chores were to be his alone so that you could rest. Any bout of sickness was closely monitored and tended to. His hand would remain on your stomach from beginning to end, although overtime it would be done less out of fear and more for the sake of bounding, often accompanied by his voice or the melody of his harp which he would happily play for you both whenever you were having a particularly difficult time falling asleep at night.

Now, you didn't dare tell anyone about your pregnancy during the first half, not wanting to deliver anymore bad news should it come, however once the remilit was out of the bag, you became the center of attention much to Sky's conflicted feelings. On one hand, you deserved it for all of your hard work growing a baby, but on the other, that overprotective dad-side of him couldn't help fretting over the vast number of harmful germs your guests could possibly be passing onto you and your unborn child. Did he make everyone wash their hands for ten minutes before visiting? Yes, yes he did.

Beyond being protective, Sky was also very emotional throughout the entire pregnancy maybe even more than you sometimes. He got teary-eyed after every doctor's appointment that confirmed the baby's development, while picking out names together, and even when you were yelling at him for something stupid because as far as he was concerned, you still looked so beautiful standing there with crossed arms and a round belly carrying his child. Oh, but none of that compared in the slightest to the tears that were shed when he actually held his daughter for the first time; that amount of waterworks could put the flood of Faron to shame!

Six years of waiting made you both lose hope. You assumed you’d never be able to have children of your own and even began to look towards other options such as adoption or simply living your lives childless forever…but the day your daughter was born was the day all your anxieties and doubts were finally put to rest. Now, as you cry happily with your husband, you can’t think of a single complaint towards your relationship; it’s officially as perfect as the precious little bundle in your arms.

Wild and you were still practically newlyweds when you gave him the 'thrilling' news. You were so happy to do so, too, barely able to bite back your excitement while watching your husband lift a small pair of baby pajamas out of a gift box. You were absolutely glowing as you eagerly awaited his reaction and all he could do was simply stare into space as his whole world came crashing down on top of him. Did he look horrified on the outside? He must've, because he swears he could’ve pinpointed the exact moment that shine in your eyes died, a frown etching its way onto your lips. What else was he supposed to do aside from fake a smile and embrace you, keeping you close to his chest so that your delight wouldn't be spoiled by his internal nervous breakdown?

Wild has zero right to be shocked. You had both been intimate (as tends to happen when you're married) not to mention you had made it perfectly clear from the start of your relationship that you would want a family one day. Judging on your eagerness towards the topic, it was never up for debate either; no kids would be a dealbreaker for you, so Wild had no choice but to quietly agree, too afraid to dare utter the truth or voice any hesitation because Hylia forbid you get the wrong idea and leave him. 

He thought it would be harmless. Some couples remain married for years before any children follow and you weren't in any big hurry, so he figured he'd have plenty of time to get his act together until the day of your dreams arrived; he didn't think it would happen during your first year of marriage! ...Now he's really dug himself into a hole it's too late to try escaping from…

He’s almost said something - a few times actually. He knows it’s only fair and that as your husband, he owes you proper communication, but each time he opens his mouth, his mind curses him with the image of your sadness. What if you think he doesn’t want this at all? What if you think he hates the baby and hates you for being pregnant? What if you concluded he must want to leave you so you decide to beat him to the punch?! 

…Okay, so Wild knows you aren’t going to just walk away. You’ve always been good at listening to his inner demons and acting as his strongest pillar of support, but that doesn’t change his fear that you might be hurt by whatever he has to say and he will not allow himself to ruin your own excitement. 

In the years that he’s known you, he can’t say he’s ever seen you quite as happy as when you found out about your baby. He knows he should match that joy, too. Most men do. Hell, Twilight practically sent a five-page essay bragging about his wife's first pregnancy. Truth be told, Wild actually does feel happy. On his better days, he feels that flicker of pride and a hint of eagerness because a family with you honestly sounds wonderful. The problem is, in his mind, it isn't a question as to what he wants, but rather what he deserves. 

So much has gone wrong in his past. It doesn’t matter how much you or anyone else assures him otherwise, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he failed Hyrule. He still suffers from so many nightmares and waves of guilt that he can’t properly put into words. You’re still having to shake him out of dazes and smooth his following sobs…How is he going to be a good dad and be there for his child when he can barely stand upon his own two feet like this?

Initially, Wild thought these feelings would go away; that’s why he never spoke them to you. He wanted so desperately to believe they wouldn’t linger, especially after you both got married. He lives in a peaceful world, has a nice home in a quiet village, a beautiful wife who adores him…He should’ve been able to move on from the Calamity already, so why hasn’t he? On his worst nights, it makes him wonder if he’ll ever be okay or if he’s just screwed you and the baby over by tying you both down to him.

These two sides of him - the hopeful and the pitiful - continue to battle for dominance inside Wild’s head throughout each step. Sometimes he’s genuinely smiling with you as you pick out baby names. Other times he’s sitting outside alone trying his damn hardest to remember any piece of his past that might make him feel at least a little better about his luck towards being a dad, preferably a time when he was actually good with kids or even had a family before. 

Wild’s internal dilemma comes to a head one fateful night when he’s awoken to the baby’s distressing cries. He had honestly already been awake after a mild case of anxiety, but you on the other hand are tired, worn from nine long months of pregnancy and the early days of active motherhood. The last thing he wants is for you to lose out on precious rest (a rare gift these days), so leaping out of bed, he’s quick to reach the baby’s crib.

Unfortunately, Wild’s natural instincts seem to basically stop right there at the crib’s side. Hands hovering above, he tries his best to calm his daughter through whispered assurances and attempts at cooing the same way he’s seen you do. When that doesn’t work, he awkwardly picks her up, cuddling her close to his chest while quietly pleading at this point. Is she hungry? Does she need a diaper change? Did she have a nightmare? Whatever it is, if you wake up, you’ll take over and he’ll be left to stand aside feeling like he can’t even do the basic task of comforting his own child and -

- To his astonishment, his efforts actually work. It really must’ve been as simple as a nightmare because slowly, the baby falls silent, seemingly forgetting all about her troubles as she finds solace gazing up at her daddy with the widest blue eyes and a stuck-out tongue that can’t seem to keep itself in her mouth. It looks rather goofy, so Wild can’t help but chuckle, although the sound is soft as his heart melts under the attention she holds towards him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s almost like she’s looking at her entire world…

Maybe some would say this moment isn’t necessarily anything special, but for Wild, it’s everything. As if suddenly a pro, he’s able to rock the little beauty gently back to sleep, his pleas turning into words of admiration as he tucks her into bed. There, he continues to keep watch over her until he feels tired himself, all the while thinking: he might be broken from years of trauma, and he might not be the best husband or parent out there because of it, but that's not going to stop him from doing everything in power to be there for his princesses.

[kometqh]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Jedi!Reader Pt.2 Your first kiss with Rex, when the two of you were young and hopeful, and your last one, where he wished for nothing more than to protect you, to be by your side until your very last breath. Word Count: 5389 Warnings: Minor swearing (?), sad Rex, creepy man alert. A/N: I'm not proud of or satisfied with the first half, but I needed to pour my Rex love out into words <3

The first time you and Rex shared a kiss, it was.. Sudden. It was thrilling. It was indescribable, really.

It had blood rushing to your cheeks in spurs, heat spreading throughout your body as his fingers gripped bruises onto your hips, his lips hot and soft against your own, trapping you between his broad shoulders and an old, sticky counter.

The two of you had been sent on a mission, a Jedi and a Clone Captain. Hand in hand, the two of you played a newly married couple as you had been tasked by the Jedi Council. At first, you had no objections, but when you realised it meant the two of you would be fully and wholly alone, your hands began to tremble, your heart began to rattle and all your resolve seemed to crumble.

Sure, you were solid in your beliefs, and that included ignoring your ever-growing crush on the blonde, tan-skinned, honey eyed Captain of the 501st. 

But with more convincing, General Skywalker and Kenobi had managed to get you to agree, and soon the two of you were shipped off to a supposedly Neutral planet, where your bounty hunter had taken cover from the GAR's watchful eyes.

The air on this planet was nothing short of stuffy, particles clinging to your lungs like thick lumps of goo. The streets were nothing but grime, sweat and dirt as your eyes scanned the place. There were potholes in the roads, small crowds of traders and sellers and horse-riders, as well as the occasional trios of smokers that hung outside bars. The streetlights were the only source of light, the planet's moons having been hidden away behind a thick, lingering swarm of clouds.

Rex could feel your shoulders stiffening, and on instinct he had pulled you closer. According to the coordinates provided by General Kenobi, the bounty hunters' hideout was just a mere few-minute walk away from your current position, and so, the two of you made your way there. 

Numerous stall owners had attempted to steal your attention away, offering glamorous jewels and accessories and flashy trinkets, but were quickly shut up and dismissed by one hard glare from Rex, his fingers finding solace on your shoulder, keeping you protectively close.

He himself wasn't all too willing to embark onto this mission, but an order was an order, no matter how hard General Skywalker attempted to mask it as a request, as a choice.

And now, having you this close, Rex was almost forced to question all the rules and regulations that the longnecks and the Council and the Republic had imposed, had implanted into the clones, onto himself. With your scent invading his senses, with your warmth being shared between the two of you, Rex wasn't so sure if he was willing to stay single for the rest of his life.

Not when your nimble fingers latched themselves around his biceps like soft snares, caressing and squeezing the flesh, feeling the sturdy muscle beneath. He could feel goose bumps rise across his arms and shoulders, as your touch set off fiery sparks on his skin, as your gaze melted away his cold exterior.

As he glanced down at you, his chest tightened, seeing the way the orange lights warmed up your face, created a warm glow, made you look prettier, enhanced your features. A hint of a shadow danced across your cheekbones from under your lashes, microscopic freckles scattered across like stars in the night sky. Maybe, just maybe, one day the two of you would live in a Republic where he could, where he would, confess his adoration for you. 

But he saw no such thing happening anytime soon.

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud, irritating whistle caught his attention, and you came to a slow halt.

"Whatcha got there, lad? You sellin'?" A scratchy voice had asked, and Rex's eyes narrowed as he noticed a Weequay pirate had made his way over to them, his eyes scanning you up and down, hunger swirling in his thin, cat-like irises. A smirk tugged at his awfully chapped lips, and his right hand was perched on his hip, settling just above his blaster.

A weak gasp left your lips as Rex half-shielded your body from view, and if you hadn't been pushed behind him, maybe your heart would have pumped faster at the sight of his frown.

"Can't you see she's taken, lad?" Rex asked, his voice loud and sturdy as he glared at the man. You didn't have your lightsabers on you, nor could you fight off the pirate whilst undercover.

"Woah woah, calm down my friend, I was merely asking." The pirate stated, a frown appearing on his face as he looked between your seemingly spooked figure and Rex's ready-to-fight stance.

Looking up at Rex, you tugged on his hand, silently pleading to keep moving. Your lightsaber was safely stored away in Rex's backpack, and it meant you couldn't have acted as swiftly as you would of if it had instead been attached to your hip.

With a groan, Rex shoo his head, puffing his chest out like a proud lion. "She is not for sale, she's with me, she's my wife, and you, you better keep your grubby paws and eyes off her." Rex growled out, his chest rumbling with a newfound dominance.

"Or else-"

"Rex.." You whispered, one handlightly tugging his shoulder, "It's okay. Let's keep going." You insisted, snaking your hand along the side of his neck to cup his jaw. His gaze softened at the sight of you, and with a small nod of his head, the two of you moved away, Rex bumping into the pirate's shoulder with more than enough force to knock him to the ground.

The two of you walked in a semi-comfortable silence, not exchanging any words, and you preferred that. If you had to speak now, you were worried you'd stumble over your words and start blushing like a teenager. He was so effortlessly kind, so thoughtful, so sweet. 

What would you do without your favourite Captain? 

Probably sink into the earth or something.

Looking up, a small smile appeared on your lips; the clouds were scattering away under the wind currents, and the twin moons were beginning to peak out from under their cover. A cool, blue light engulfed the two of you, mixing with the war orange glow from the street stands, and your breath was caught in your throat as you looked up to Rex. 

His honey eyes reflected the purple mix, darkening under it as he stared ahead, occasionally glancing at his holopad. There was a familiar crease settled between his brows, crows feet crinkling at the outer corners of his eyes as his expression screamed 'Focused!', his gloved hand warm against the bare skin on your bicep.

His stubble, which he usually kept cleanly shaven, was now beginning to grow back, giving him a more mature, yet tired look. Your fingers itched to just caress his face, to feel those short, spiky hairs against your palm, to make him feel at ease under your touch.

He glanced to the side, his eyes widening as the two of you made instant eye contact, but a soft smirk appeared when he noticed you hurriedly looking away, anywhere but him.

He definitely liked to see you flustered.

After a short while, the two of you came to a stop in front of a small staircase, a few lingering figures smoking, and tall, dark brown doors that led to the inside of the club. 

The figures scoffed at the sight of you, muttering something about being 'rich' or too 'formal', but you paid them no mind as Rex placed his palm on the small of your back, glancing sideways as he ushered you forward.

As the doors opened, your senses were flooded with the smell and feel of thick smoke, choking you from the inside-out more so than the air outside. Loud music pumped through hidden speakers, and a swarm of bodies was tangled up on the dance floor, moving in rhythmic beats, flashing lights and singing making the room feel stuffy, and much smaller than it really was.

There was sweat on the walls, different coloured lights basking the otherwise dark space in all shades of the rainbow. 

Quickly, you took a hold of Rex's bicep, stuttering in your steps as you looked to him for guidance, and the male felt a surge of pride sprouting in his chest, knowing that you trusted him enough to seek protection from him. 

Without a second thought, he lead you to the bar, ordering the two of you drinks strong enough to survive the clamminess of the place.

Then, the two of you found seats at a faraway booth, sitting close enough for your arms to touch. You took an awkward sip of your drink, a horrible bitterness hammering your tongue, a shiver going down your spine as the liquid burned the back of your throat.

"What was this called again, Rex? Beer?" You semi-shouted over the loud music, your lips just inches away from touching his ear.

Without a thought, Rex turned his face to you, towering lightly over you as you leaned against his shoulder. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp parting your lips. His own eyes looked over yours, a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, it's called beer, mesh'la. Why? D'you not like it?" He asked, nudging his chin to point at the glass. He watched as you chewed on your bottom lip, suppressing the grimace that fought to make its way onto your face. 

He never really saw you be so expressive around anyone else, not even around General Skywalker and General Kenobi. Was he an exception? He had waited to spend one-on-one time with you for so long, always being stuck by Skywalker's side.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and Rex couldn't stop himself from putting an arm around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer. The gasp that escaped your lips was luckily covered by the loud booming of the music, and the flush on your face was somewhat masked by the bouncing lights, or so you hoped. 

Rex's breath fanned over the top of your head, his hand tracing circles into your skin, though his eyes remained observant, scanning the room, as he took another sip of his own drink. 

You looked back to your own drink, a scowl forming on your face as you cringed at the thought of having to finish it. But, a plan formed in your mind. The two of you were supposed to be playing a couple in love, right?

Why not.. spice things up a little?

Without a second thought, you turned to Rex.

"If you drink that whole glass in ten seconds, the rest of the drinks will be on me tonight." Your voice was loud, your lungs straining to produce sound over the music, but it seemed to work as Rex thought about your offer, taking a moment to reply.

"And I get to choose?" He asked, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. 

With an eager nod, you watched Rex sigh defeatedly, reaching over for your glass. 

"But you better be fair, or else." He winked at you, and neared the glass to his lips. His brothers often engaged in games like this, making bets or starting competitions, their favourite being 'How to get Fives drunk the fastest' or 'How to make Fives strip tease for the civvies'. 

He himself never got drunk, only somewhat tipsy, so it would definitely be a new experience for him. 

Drinking with you by his side, without the peering eyes of his brothers or the Republic. Here, it was just him and you.

"On the count of one," You begun, a grin growing on your lips as Rex readied himself, "Three.." His posture straightened up, his gaze daring you, "Two.." His grip on the glass tightened, and you felt yourself swallowing a growing lump, looking up at Rex through a thick curtain of lashes, lips parted, "One!"

With that, you began counting down, swallowing thickly as you watched Rex tilt the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with every gulp he took. You almost considered speeding up your counting, as in five seconds he was done with half of the glass.

A laugh escaped you as some of the beer began to spill down his chin, rolling in thick beads down his neck. At that point, he won. Your attention was completely focused on his neck, eyes glazing over him eagerly, and you wondered what it would be like to trace the column of his neck, to lick the alcohol off of his neck, would he like that? What would he sound like?

"Done!" Rex's exclamation startled you, the bang of the glass against the table effectively making you jump out of your skin. 

A loud laugh echoed, and as you looked up, Rex was just wiping his lips.

"Now, you owe me a drink," He said, taking a hold of your chin as he cheekily smiled, "Or a couple." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and rested back against the booth seat.

With a roll of your eyes, you got up from your seat and made your way towards the bar.

"Five shots of Spotchka for me mesh'la!" He shouted after you, and a laugh escaped your lips. As you ordered the drinks, a giddy smile tugged at your lips. Who would have thought that the two of you could share such a normal, such an ordinary day together? Especially at a bar like this of all places? Not even in your wildest dreams would you have imagined Rex and you playing a couple, clinging onto each other like koalas, or sharing drinks like this.

Never would you have imagined you would get the chance to be close to Rex like this, maybe if one of you were carrying the other off a battlefield, but that's it really.

You were one lucky-

"You alone miss?" Someone spoke lowly into your ear, a foreign hand caressing the small of your back. 

"What the-" You turned around, shaking away from their touch. "Who are you?" You asked, one eyebrow quirked as you looked the man up and down. He was definitely a local, dressed in dark brown trousers and khaki coloured shirt, his face looked worn, wrinkles scattered all over, his beard outgrowing a stubble and his breath reeked of alcohol and cigarrettes.

His eyes though, they were sullen and fighting against his will to stay awake and upright, they showed an exhausted man, a vexed man, a dangerous man. You knew that without your lightsaber you'd be completely and utterly screwed, but maybe you could talk your way out of this?

"I've been looking for some.. fresh meat," He paused, licking his lips as he looked you up and down, expectantly. His breath stank, and you had to fight really hard not to let your disgust show. "You looked a bit lonely, y'know.." He continued, and you felt a shiver run up your spine as he reached a hand to caress your shoulder.

Thinking back to how Rex was probably waiting for you, you felt a sense of comfort; he'd come if you took too long.

"Well actually I-I'm with someone-" You tried to reason, but the man shut you up with a sharp glare and a sloppy shake of his head. 

"No no, sweetheart, I think you misunderstood me," He growled out, voice rumbling in your ears, "You're coming with me." 

His rough hand felt like sand paper to your skin, unlike Rex's gentle, careful fingers that worked their way to yours, held you with so much care. 

His shirt slouched over his bony form, and you could see sweat staining the material. 

"Sir, I would advise you to let go of me or-"

"Or what? What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Scream? Kick?" He taunted, trapping your body between his own and the bar. Why was no one batting an eye at this? Was everyone so horribly drunk? Where was Rex?

You shook your head, pushing at his chest. 

"Just let go of me you creep." You hissed, freeing yourself from his grasps. A scowl overtook his features, a red light shining directly onto his face. What the hell? Why was he so stubborn on taking you away? 

Just as his lips parted, his small frame was roughly shoved to the side, and you paused in your tracks as something soft, something warm crashed against your lips. 

Large hands held your hips in place as his lips melted against yours, pushing against you, body flush against your own. Your eyes snapped open, but closed once more when you realised who it was. 

Your arms snaked around his neck, nails grazing against his scalp as you reciprocated this welcomed feeling. Your breaths mingled together, his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip, wordlessly asking for permission.

Granting it, your tongues swirled together, and he hummed in approval as his hips pushed you further into the counter, the wood digging painfully into the skin and bones. His body towered over yours as the two of you kissed, completely lost in each other's warm embrace, completely forgetting about the creep that had now moved away, shaking his head and muttering disgruntled 'Okay I get it's'.

As Rex slowly pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips, almost whining at the loss of warmth. But a small smile tugged at your lips as you looked into his eyes, noticing how glazed over his irises were, how softly he looked at you, as if you were his precious treasure, his whole world, his universe. 

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for, mesh'la." He mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttered close with a content smile on his face.

A soft huff escaped through your nose, and you softly nodded, placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Me too, Captain, me too."

The last time you and Rex kissed, it was passionate, it was hopeful, it was precious.

There was a spare hour before you and your squadron were to depart for another search-and-rescue mission, off to a rather politically-influential planet, busy with preparing your ships, guns, provisions, belongings and, most of all, your goodbyes. You were confident that the mission would be a successful one, after all, how hard was it to find a missing princess?

However, the creases etched onto Rex's features had your chest tightening, had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek, had you fiddling with your fingers. That familiar scrunch of his eyebrows, whenever he was anxious, was present, crow's feet dancing at the outer corners of his eyes. 

He kept his hands grasped together behind his back as he paced the hallway outside your room in circles, muttering and mumbling under his nose with hushed breaths.

The apples of his cheeks that were normally so full and chubby, were now sullen and drained of their usual roundness, the familiar bright glint in his starry eyes you loved so much, suddenly replaced by a dark, dusky chill. 

As the door to your room slid open, Rex had lifted his head, golden puppy eyes widened, relief flooding his features. His pacing had come to a slow stop as he peered at you, breathless. 

A sigh escaped your lips, the muscles in your throat tensing, your shoulders stiffening.

"Rex..? What's-" He was quick to interrupt your words, grasping your shoulders in a gentle hold as he pushed you back inside your quarters, the doors shutting behind him with a gentle whizz and thud. 

"Mesh'la.. You can't go." As the words left his lips, your heart squeezed, like a wet rug being drained of water. It twisted and pulled, tugging at the heartstrings until they were ready to burst. Where was this coming from, why was he so worried? It was only going to be a simple mission. The corners of your lips tugged downwards in a frown, suddenly gaining on a new weight to them that hadn't been there before. 

Your hands came up to hold his face, smoothing out the lines that had scattered across. 

"Rex, what's gotten into you? What's wrong?" You asked, your voice merely a hushed whisper as you neared your face to his. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly, nervously. His eyes searched yours, the first hint of tears surfacing. 

His hold against you was tight, yet so full of love and care. One of his hands had slid up to cradle the side of your face, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the soft skin underneath, his warmth radiating onto you like a heavy blanket. His scent, the scent of fresh aftershave and gunpowder, was invading your senses, binding you completely useless under the spell of your lover.

With a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttered closed, crows feet tugging at the corners before he opened them back up, his feelings hidden behind an array of lusciously thick lashes and a steel-hard facade.

"That thing.. What Fives said b-before he- before he died," He paused, his gaze dropping down to the floor, his shoulders stuttering under the shakiness of his breaths, "About the chips. What if it's true?"

At that, your lips merged into a fine line, your hold on his face losening just the slightest. 

"Rex, look at me," You spoke, lifting his chin with the tips of your fingers, soft stubble brushing against the pads, "Do you truly believe in what he said?" You questioned, searching his eyes for something, for a clue. If this worried him so much, then why did he keep it hidden from you until now? Did he hear something he shouldn't have? Did he see something that confirmed what Fives had said?

"I didn't see or hear anything, if that's what you're thinking, mesh'la," His quiet voice just barely reached your ears, the gravelly hum grazing against the shells of your ears, like waves crashing against a sandy shore, and you wouldn't have heard his hushed whisper if you weren't leaning in so close, "But General Skywalker.. he- he hasn't been the same since Ahsoka left the order, he's been more unnerved, more reckless, more irrational and he's putting my squadron, my men, my brothers in danger, kriff, even you!" He exclaimed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. His stomach twisted and turned, bile readily rising, burning, in his throat as he realised what he had just said. 

If this was anyone but you, he was sure to be court martialed, accused of treason or desserting the army, or conspiring, even. But this wasn't just anyone, this wasn't General Kenobi or Master Windu; this was you. His General, his friend, his comfort, his love.

Surely, you'd understand where he was coming from. 

You had allowed him a short respite, pulling him into your embrace as the tears had begun to spill over. One hand caressing his hair, the other rubbed comforting circles into the tense muscles on his back. He wasn't wearing his armour, for some weird enough reason, though you could inquire about that later. 

For now, Rex's wellbeing was your priority.

Your lips gently brushed against his ear as you spoke, your voice smooth and soft, like velvet, barely rising above a whisper. "Rex, we both know, forming attachments, relationships, is strictly forbidden.. But, has that ever stopped anyone? It certainly hasn't stopped me or you, so it definitely hasn't stopped General Skywalker," You paused, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his sickeningly sweet scent, "Ahsoka was like a daughter to him, Rex, a little sister to you. He's going through the same pain as you, but multiply that by two." You whispered, feeling Rex's silent tears ease into light, stuttering breaths, his gloved hands grasping tightly onto your robes.

The distant hum of active machinery and faraway footsteps filled the silence between the two of you, bouncing off the iron-hard walls, drowning out the sound of your breathing, masking the sound of Rex's gentle, feather-light tears and sobs. 

He had been through far too much in his short life, he had seen too much, heard, experienced more than enough. The numerous, countless deaths of his brothers, each dying on a cursed battlefield, sacrificing their lives dying for a cause that did little to care for them. The disappearance of Echo, the death of Hardcase, the death of Fives. All men who had been by his side for so, so many years. 

And then, General Tano leaving the Jedi order. 

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. 

He could no longer force and tie down that sense of fear, that sense of insecurity which twisted at his heartstrings, constricting painfully each time a new terror occurred. It squeezed at his lungs, suffocating him, dragging him down like a boulder tied to one of the many seas found on Kamino. 

Kamino. 

His.. home?

The longnecks never did care for the Clones, all they were to them was a moneygrab. An expensive one, at that. Who knew when the Republic would run out of money to produce more clones? Who knew when they would get tired of the many fruitless battles they so bravely fought? Who knew?

Those questions plagued Rex's mind like a stalkish nightmare, always there, hiding away in the deepest corners of his mind, creeping in every time he'd let his eyelids flutter closed.

But then, there was a light.

A golden, brightly burning flame, offered by an extended hand. 

It came in the form of your touch. 

Anytime you'd touch his shoulder, graze the soft skin of your palm along his jaw, place feather-light kisses against his nape, Rex could feel the tightness-

No. 

He could feel the fear that clawedat his chest slowly dissipate away. Inch by inch, the feeling of your skin against his, the sound of your voice dripping like honey, the warmth that radiated off of you like the sun, it washed the sticky, oozing black substance away in waves, it purged the darkness that tried to taint his heart and mind, his resolve and his beliefs.

His breathing had slowly come to a still, the trembling that had travelled throughout his body had eventually ceased, allowing the two of you to sit in a comfortable, peaceful silence. 

His fingers caressed the soft material of your shirt, tracing each slight bump of bone within the curve of your spine, his heart swelling with adoration at every soft exhale and chuckle that escaped your chest at his ministrations.

With you hidden away in his arms, away from harm's way, Rex began to feel at peace again. 

But that's just what you did; you put anyone and everyone at ease. You just had that effect. 

He didn't know if it was something to do with your force-sensitivity, or if it was just a personality trait. He wasn't about to complain though.

The tip of his nose gently nudged against the top of your head, slowly, taking note of the change in the scent. The corners of his lips nudged slightly upwards, crows feet tugging at the corners of his tired eyes.

"New shampoo?" He asked, his voice low and raspyed as he continued inhaling your scent.

Underneath him, he felt vibrations, your shoulders shaking as you snickered in his arms, the air escaping your lungs in short, joyful tufts.

"Yeah, I was getting fed up of the one provided by the Republic. It's peach scented, d'you like it?" You had asked, tilting your head upwards to catch a glimpse of his honey-glazed eyes. As he looked at you, he couldn't help the rapid rattling of his heart, warmth flooding his chest at the sight of you.

Your face tilted upwards, hands grasping his biceps, lone tufts of hair framing your face, the smug smile on your face as you looked up at him with those beautiful, glassy irises. It was like you were his own personal sunshine, small enough for him to cradle you within his clutches, tuck you away into his pocket, keep you by his side during combat.

Warm enough to chip away at the foul insecurities and fears that clogged his mind during his every waking moment. 

His gaze flickered to your lips, and Rex sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed you nibbling lightly on your bottom lip, a shadow cast onto your cheekbones through a row of long, luscious lashes. 

Neither of you said a word as Rex's hand cradled the side of your face, closing the short gap between the two of you. You closed your eyes, a joyful huff escaping your chest as his lips collided with yours in a passionate, slow exchange. 

His fingers caressed your skin with such care, with such gentleness, with such love, it made your heart beat faster and your blood burn hot with adoration. They swept down from the top of your cheekbone, along the shell of your ear, and finally found their place on your jawbone, his pinky settling for caressing small, short strokes along your jaw and the top of your neck. His other hand came up to do the same, pulling you closer than was thought to be humanly possible.

His breath fanned over your face, and his scent flooded your nostrils, soft vanilla mixed with his natural musky scent. 

It invaded your senses, engulfing you like a chilly summer afternoon on one of your rare days off, like the warm summer rain that soaked your clothes, tugged at the tips of your hair, like the warm rays of sun that peaked through the windows as you slept, summoning you to wake up, to feel alive, to feel loved.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your tongue brushing against Rex's bottom lip. You felt his shoulders shake under the heaviness of your palms, and it was soon followed by a soft chuckle as his hands tilted your head, angling it to provide him better access to your body, your lips, your soul. 

Your lips melting together, your heart swells with admiration and love for your soldier, and for a moment a fleeting thought wedges itself inside your mind; you and Rex. You and Rex and small children, a tall farmhouse sat behind your figures as the children splash around in a shallow pond, their joyful screams and shouts bringing a smile to your face as you and Rex relax further back, his arm cradling you close to his body.

But that thought is gone as fast as it came, a ghost of your past wishes and longings. But maybe, just maybe once the war ended, the two of you would be able to achieve such a future. Afterall, where there is love, there is hope, and where there is hope, there is life, right?

The two of you are interrupted as your intercom goes off, signaling for your attention. The incessant beeping is loud and repetitive, enough to cause a tension headache in you. 

Slowly, you began to pull away, your eyes fluttering open once more, your lips stinging as the cold air of your room replaced the warm plush of Rex's lips. You swallowed hard, releasing a short breath as you looked up into his golden eyes again, a pained expression settled in them again.

"Rex.. It's time for me to go," You whispered, bringing your hand up to caress his face as the man pulled you close, his fingers fiddling with the material of your shirt. He burried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time, "I will contact you as soon as we land, or if anything happens, okay?" You asked, nudging his forehead with yours.

As he lifted his head, Rex felt that same fear overcome him again, tearing away at his heart, choking him up in an iron-tight hold.

"You better update me on everything, and I mean everything, do you understand?" He asked, his gaze hardening and his eyebrows furrowing as he maintained steady eye contact, conveying his worry for you. 

With a small nod of your head, you rose from the bed, whispering a soft 'I love you' before you gave him one last kiss, your touch leaving burning trails on his skin as the doors quietly slid shut behind your retreating figure, looking back at Rex one last time, committing the sight of him to your memory, your voice reaching his ears as you answered your intercom. 

His gaze remained on the doors, and Rex heaved a long, deep sigh.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rex, she's gonna be back."

But were you?

[valtsv]

How does one work at a cat shelter? What qualifications did you need, in the UK? - Unemployed and desperate for a job that provides joy. Mwah.

it's a volunteer job i'm afraid, so it doesn't pay me. experience requirements depend on where you apply, but most places are happy to take you on if you have basic experience looking after a cat, or even just a willingness to listen and learn. it's not glamorous work, though. there's a lot of cleaning up shit and vomit. the cute cats are a bonus but they make a lot of mess and they do kinda stink. i don't gaf because i used to own a cat and i worked at a horse rescue sanctuary as a kid so i'm used to it, but some people quit real fast when it's not what they expected.

[unoislazy]

‘Til The Caged Bird Sings

(Part 1)

Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader

Disclaimer; This is less of a chapter and more of a prologue for what’s to come.

I see your requests and I have begun to work on a few of them, but I have a few ideas that I had started previously that I would like to get to first. Thank you for your patience.

————————————————————

Marriage was not something you expected to be a part of your life. You truly believed you would never find someone who completed you enough to be set on sealing the deal. All the men you had met were arrogant and egotistical, so hellbent on fueling their ego that they refused to treat you like a human being. They believed that if they had been seen being paired with an ‘unreal’ like you, they would lose any fortune or honor they might have had, no matter how small. If that was how you would be treated, maybe that wasn't the life for you. Your life was by no means glamorous, if you had married it wouldn’t have been for monetary gain by anysense, for your parents maybe, but you got the short end of the stick no matter what. It more than likely would simply have been just to extend someone else's family lineage, then again who would want to have impure blood mixed with their own. Other than the desperate men who were practically chomping at the bit to get you, likely just to sell you off to someone else.

Not wanting anything like that for yourself, you had given up your life at home in favor of living a peaceful life on your own, far away from anyone who could treat you otherwise. You stayed out of people's way and just went about business as usual.

That was until you had met Mizu.

Your paths had crossed in the most unusual way, almost as if it was fate. You had met her on a day that you had to visit the market, which was peculiar on its own considering you very rarely went into town. You hadn’t seen her get into a fight, but you did witness the very bloody outcome first hand. You knelt down before her bloody body which had been just haphazardly strewn about against a wall. She struggled to keep her eyes open as they shifted to you, you were unsure if she could even see you properly but you could just barely make out the blue hue as her eyelids began to shut.

She was a mess and no one else around her seemed to care. You didn’t have much medicinal knowledge but you thought it right to help with what you could. So, you slung her over the back of your horse along with the supplies you had bought and made your way back to your home.

And that is where she stayed.

She was extremely skeptical at first, extremely jumpy and quite hesitant to even allow you to get near her. It took some convincing but eventually she had learned to trust you, even just the slightest bit. You meant no harm to her and she eventually came to realize that. She didn’t understand why, you owed her nothing, you didn't even know who she was but you still helped. You paid no mind to her skepticism or her ‘flaws’ and continued to treat her just as you saw fit.

Because you knew what it was like to be considered a demon.

You too had mixed blood and because of that you had always been cast away, looked down upon, and pushed to the side without another thought. You had been poked and prodded at like you were some otherworldly being that amounted to nothing more than the mud underneath people's shoes.

Once you both came to the realization that you had this fact in common, your relationship slowly began to build from there.

Because of Mizu’s injured state you both spent a lot of time around each other and while Mizu wasn’t incredibly talkative at first she had begun to open up to you. You two began to share stories with each other, spend late nights together, sometimes just sitting in silence enjoying each other's company. You had never met someone who had so much in common with you and neither had she, you both completed each other in a way that you almost didn’t think to be true. It took a while for you to gain her trust, but once you had you two were inseparable. Every chore you had around the house, Mizu insisted on helping, any place you needed to go, Mizu insisted on coming with. She never left your side and you never truly left hers either.

For once in her life, Mizu had finally begun to feel comfortable around someone, which was something she wasn’t able to say for a long time. She had gotten comfortable enough that she no longer felt the need to wear her glasses or pull her hair so far back, or even wear the baggy clothes she had initially gotten used to wearing. When she was around you, she felt as if she could truly be herself, she could wear whatever she wanted, she could finally let go as if no one was waiting to ridicule her and strike her down.

She felt safe.

She didn’t think she’d ever get to say that about anyone but there she was, standing before you, a few years later. You both were dressed in your best attire as you conducted a very makeshift ceremony. You both knew it wouldn’t be legal for you to get married officially, it was one thing that you both were mixed and it was an entirely new issue that you were both women. So you decided to do it yourself, sure it wouldn’t be legally recognized, but who cares? All that matters is that you both agreed that you loved each other enough to want to vow to protect each other at any cost. If anything, you appreciated it more than what was normally done and said at weddings.

You couldn’t be happier. You lived a quiet life, now with a wonderful wife by your side who was willing to do practically anything for you, and you would do the same for her. One day you had decided to surprise her by going out to buy a horse for her, you figured it would be better than you both just trading your poor old horse. You laughed as you watched Mizu attempt to groom the horse she had picked; with Mizu being Mizu, she chose the most stubborn one anyone could have possibly gone for. You watched on as she cautiously reapproached the rambunctious stallion, surprised she had gotten so far to begin with.

You leaned your head on your hands as you rested your weight on the wooden fence of the field, your eyes not once leaving Mizu as you focused on what you could see of her facial features.

She was probably one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. How any one could’ve even considered to claim that she was a demon or a monster, you would never know. She might have started off quite rude and abrasive but you couldn’t blame her for that, you would’ve too if one minute you were on the street and the next in some random person's house. But once her personality began to shine through and she began to slowly reveal parts of herself piece by piece, you slowly began to fall for her. You would’ve been a fool not to.

You snapped out of your thoughts, refocusing on Mizu, watching as her eyes squinted ever so slightly as she began to smile, her efforts paid off so she approached the stallion without any added effort. You cheered for her, walking onto the field with her as she continued to ever so gently pet the stallion.

“I told you I could.” She gloated in a joking manner, turning to you with a very proud smile on her face.

“And I never said you couldn’t.” You responded, matching her tone with a smile. She had taken her hand off of the horse and turned to face you as you linked your arm with hers, pulling yourself much closer to her.

“You thought about it.” She teased while sending you a challenging, yet very playful, glare.

“I did not.” You laughed at the childish nature of the conversation. You never would have guessed that stoic woman you had met years before would even think to have a conversation such as this.

You gave the woman a very soft peck on the cheek before telling her,

“I’m going to go back into the house to finish up some things, are you coming with me?” You asked. She thought about it for a second before turning back to her newly befriended horse,

“No, I think I’ll spend a little more time out here with him.” She replied, to which you smiled and nodded.

You made your way back inside, humming a tune that you had heard playing when you had visited the market last. It was light and airy, one that reminded you of something a songbird might sing. The notes were so fluttery it made you feel at peace, as if nothing could harm you.

You walked inside your home, shutting the door behind you as you continued to hum the tune. You grabbed your unfinished embroidery project and some thread and walked towards the spot where you usually sat when you were to complete a very long task. You had been so engrossed in your task you had yet to notice the three other people that also occupied the room.

By the time you had noticed their presence however, it had been too late.

“Hey, I think we need to go out and buy more fruits we don’t-” Mizu paused, Her eyes widening as she looked on at the scene before her. The house you shared, now in complete mess, the table toppled over, bits and pieces of different decorations you both had now torn to shreds and thrown about on the floor. The embroidery that you had been working on had been left, thrown carelessly to the side and still unfinished.

The worst thing Mizu had come across was a few droplets of blood that had been left on the floor.

What if it was your blood? What if they had harmed you?

Luckily though, because of the amount of blood that had been left, it was clear that the wound had not been too deep.

But if it had been your blood, whoever had raised a hand to harm you was going to wish they had never made such a careless mistake

[enigmasong]

As someone who lives in Mardi Gras area, I assure you, Buggy would despise Mardi Gras.

Buggy the clown would LOVE Mardi Gras in this essay I will-

[huewrite]

Ok so hear me out (prepare to share)

One of the things I love right now is how writers can all see the same idea and come up with wildly different ideas of how to pull it off. Well really programers. Chefs. Artists. Anyone really.

And they can all work.

Like my story has been bopping around in my head after seeing some post debating what races had the best whatever recipes. And I'm like...

I wanna make a cook book like that.

But I didn't. Because life and I was working on a comic and all. But then this contest on tapas comes around and I'm like.

Yes.

Let's do this.

ACTION TIME.

But that wasn't enough. Because I saw some of the races and I like "but why tho". I mean we all know there are some racist ideas behind various races. And honestly, some races are like... been there done that. So my brain starts finding new twists on them.

The elves are the wine makers, have glamor because they look like eldritch horrors, and are basically dnd bards. "Dark elves" are basically the holiest warriors. Orcs? Blue and red which got mistaken for blood early on. They leaned into it for interactions but they really like to farm and raise sheep like critters. The centaurs are half goat not half horse and their cities are a PAIN to get into because they don't need roads, they have walls they can hop up.

And all of this still gets me adding in recipes people can cook. More or less based on what's happening. While the MC Enoki runs around on hir own tasting food and trying to save the world. Because oh yeah, the gods need a feast or they start blowing up the various races!

So, if you like, reblog and share some fun twists you took on in your work or creative project or whatever. Maybe share the link and some pics. And give a description too.

"Enoki was a assistant manager by day and recipe foodie vlogger by night. Going out and finding recipies from around the world and how they changed over time. Too bad a goat killed hir. Now a bunch of gods have given an ultimatum. Create a blessed and cursed feast in one year, or watch as the races of this new world are wiped out. Then ze is dropped into the world with no directions, no explanations of how to use hir shapeshifter or magic items, and a whole lot of people that aren't too sure about Enoki's plan. With an arsenal of jokes and a desire to taste everything once, can Enoki make the feast? Or will it be a cooking fail?"

[yamy-brett]

Happy 91st Birthday, Jeremy. You are sorely missed.

From JEREMY BRETT PLAYING A PART by Maureen Whittaker. Quotes by Jeremy Brett.

"It all started for me on 3rd November 1933. I began life with everything a child could wish for. We had a huge, glorious, country house on the outskirts of Berkswell, near Coventry, with tennis courts, squash courts, horses and dogs and a wonderful, terraced garden created by my artistic mother, Elizabeth. The family was spoiled rotten, for we had three live-in staff, plus four other people who came in to help. We always seemed to be entertaining a houseful of fascinating people; the door was always open.”

The Grange, where Peter William Jeremy, was born, is a beautiful house with sweet smelling flowering wisteria on the front elevation and nestled in a magical vista of gardens, landscaped by Elizabeth, known as “Bunny”, who was the centre of this loving family.

The Huggins family was a significant part of the delightful Berkswell village in Warwickshire. William and Elizabeth had decided to move to the rambling, attractive Berkswell Grange in 1929 to accommodate a growing family. The three boys, John, Michael and Patrick, needed somewhere to play and to ride, so a large, impressive house was chosen in nearby Truggist Lane. The house featured seventeenth century timber framing, and nineteenth century additions, including a tiled roof.

Due to its grandeur and welcoming hostess, the Grange was the centre of village events, of Christmas parties, of afternoon teas and of music and entertainment.

William and Elizabeth were both keen archers, so it is no surprise that Jeremy took this seriously and belonged to the Woodmen of Arden, a notable club for the sport. “The whole family were taxophilites. Actually, my mother was a brilliant archer, won many awards. She had a special lightweight bow, and when I was growing up, I used her hand-me-downs. Looking back, I must have been about four or five when my father gave me my first lesson. The outfit is really glamorous – Lincoln green cut-away tailcoat, buff waistcoat with gold buttons, shite slacks, shite shoes and a New Zealand style hat that turns up at the side…”

Archery Week was hosted by the Huggins family at the beginning of August each year and to accompany the competitions on the extensive grounds at the Grange, they featured special balls for about 30 or 40 people for dinner, followed by dancing in the ballroom. “The dancing finished so late that breakfast was often served to the guests before they left for home the following day.”

“Naturally, I’d been practising like mad for the occasion. Firing at 100 yards I nervously let the arrow go. It wobbled in the air and my astonishment landed smack in the middle of the target. I was made Master Forester on my first day – a title which carries with it sitting at the High Table. Socially, archery can be pretty heaving going. That day the lunch ran to 12 toasts and I remember staggering out afterwards full of venison and summer pudding, cheeks pink from the port and nose still twitching from my first pinch of snuff…”

He told one interviewer that he had “a marvellous youth with every kind of animal under the sun, from ferrets to rabbits to mice to horses, to monkeys even. It was like a paradise, and a gorgeous home.”

Jeremy had a very special relationship with all animals. He welcomed dogs as earnestly as he welcomed his friends and often on his knees to greet them, face to face. His own dog, Mr. Binks, was a Jack Russell terrier that he affectionately called his “hound of heaven”.

Elizabeth’s reputation was always one of kindness to others, especially towards the homeless in the community. Gypsies and vagrants were frequent visitors expecting to be fed, have a wash or receive fresh clothing, and Williams shirts or trousers, could often be seen on these visitors leaving the Grange. Mrs. Huggins would go out and find Gypsies, taking them back to the Grange – the Colonel would come home from work to find a “Gypsy encampment with great cauldron in the walled courtyard, and clothes being dried in the saddle-room.”

During the Coventry bombing on 14th November 1940, in which more than four thousand homes were destroyed, including the 14th century cathedral, Jeremy’s mother, alerted by the sirens, the noise of exploding bombs and the sight of leaping flames across the open countryside, left her family to drive to the nearby town to what she could to help those who were caught up in the devastation. “The whole city was ringed with leaping flames, bathed in brilliant moonlight and a few searchlights were sweeping the smoke-filled sky.” Consequently, one family was taken into the Grange and 42 members of the extended family lived there until alternative accommodations could be found. There was no question in her mind about the decision; it was simply her first and characteristic response to suffering. “She was a dazzling woman, half Irish and fully Quaker, and ran our home, a large country house deep in the Black Country outside Coventry, in a sort of Flower Power way, always filling it with people that she’d picked up. I remember her bringing home a whole family called Weston during the war, and all of them stayed in our stables.”

Elizabeth Huggins had an enormous effect on the growing Jeremy and some would say that he was very like her in his response to others. “My mother had this extraordinary way of making us flower, and she had open doors and windows in her soul – that’s the only way I can put it. Everybody came to my mother. She was like a light of great warmth.”

What an amazing beginning to a brilliant gentleman.

This is just the very beginning of JEREMY BRETT PLAYING A PART by Maureen Whittaker.