#I don't know if those three content warnings actually apply or not

[evelinessa]

A Miles Edgeworth GIF I Made, Using the Gyakuten Kenji 1 Guide

An interesting thing about the Gyakuten Kenji (Ace Attorney Investigations) 1 guide, is that many of its pages have a little Miles sprite in the corner, gradually cycling through his animations.

I made this GIF years ago after taking pictures of each page, so I could simulate the flipbook animation effect that was intended.

The only change I made to the original GIF from years ago before sharing it here, was slowing it down. The original speed I had it at was too fast, I feel.

Looking at the page numbers, it looks like I had taken around 75 photos (he was always in the bottom right corner). I had my phone on a stand to keep it as still as possible, but flipping the page and pressing the capture button still caused some movement over time.

It's not perfect, but for my first (and so far only) time doing something like this, I'm still pretty happy with it and glad to share it with the fandom.

[rogueddie]

I'll Be Here T | 1,187 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is being willing to wait for them

Eddie has always known that, one day, Steve would move to the city with Robin so he can finally go to college. Eddie has grown too aware of Steve, his tells and how much he needs Robin.

When he first brought up college, he was venting about how horrible it would be to go so long without seeing Robin.

Eddie had struggled to hold back his laughter, painfully aware that he wasn't actually venting. He was trying to find an excuse to follow her. He was trying to convince himself that it would be worth putting the effort in to go to college too.

So, when Steve shuffled in one day, concerned but excited? Eddie wasn't surprised.

"I got in," he'd started. "To college, I mean. I applied with Robin and... I got in."

"That's amazing," Eddie said. "Baby, I'm so proud of you."

And he was. He was so extremely proud and excited.

But, when the day finally came for Steve to leave, he found it hard to bring those emotions back. He hated how clearly Steve could see through his forced grins.

"I'm fine," Eddie had insisted when Steve asked. "Really. I'm going to miss you, but this is so good for you. I'm so excited to hear about what you're going to do."

"I'll call," Steve promised, arms tight around him in a hug. He only pulled back to litter Eddie's face with kisses.

And, as promised, Steve called as soon as they arrived in their new dorm. Eddie could hear Robin babbling in the background, excited about their tiny little space, whilst Steve tried to hold in his laughter long enough to spew his usual romantics.

He'd called the next day too, to let Eddie know how they'd settled in and talk about all the different activities he was planning on checking out. There was even a D&D group that made him think of Eddie, that he didn't join simply because he wants his first game to be with him.

It wasn't until the next week that he called again. Steve spent the entire call gushing about a teacher who'd sat down with him and talked him through all his options.

"I'm going to be a teacher!" Steve had finished his speech off. "For, like, middle schoolers!"

"That's amazing!" Eddie replied. "That's- Stevie, that's perfect for you! You're gonna be amazing!"

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"I know so."

Steve had warned him that he would be busy, that he wouldn't be able to call as much.

It still made something deep in Eddies chest ache when another week would go by with no news from Steve.

Eddie wasn't worried though. Not really.

Especially when he came back with Robin for Christmas.

He hadn't been able to stay more than three days but, the entire time he was back in Hawkins, he was glued to Eddie. He grabbed and held on, as if he was finally able to breathe. As if he would die if he didn't get to touch Eddie for one second longer.

Robin constantly joked that she was going to need a crowbar to pry him off of Eddie.

She was almost right. It had taken him so long to say goodbye that they left more than an hour later than they had originally planned.

Eddie waved to them as they drove off. He was surprised at how excited he felt- it would only be a year until he got to see Steve again.

They'd been reluctant to admit their plans to stay in their dorms over summer break, but Eddie had encouraged them.

It was a good idea after all.

"But he could be doing anything," Mike had frowned, confused at how calm and content Eddie was. "With anyone. And he's not talking to you! Doesn't that make you... I don't know, worry?"

"No?" Eddie frowned back. He didn't understand why the kids were so confused. "Steve wouldn't do something like that. I know that, so what do I have to worry about?"

"You're just gonna wait around forever then?"

"Nope. He's just at college, kid. He's gonna come back and, when he does, I'll be right here."

When Steve went into his second year, he had settled enough that he started calling once a month.

It quickly became Eddies favorite time of the month and, if anyone tried to get him to do anything else on the day, he would blow them off. He couldn't be late home- not when Steve was going to call.

"I miss you," Steve would always say, in lieu of a greeting.

"I miss you too, baby," Eddie always mumbled back. He would cradle the phone close, with both hands, as he did.

"I keep thinking about you," Steve promised.

He would say it every call, repeating it as though worried that Eddie might forget. That Eddie might doubt that.

Eddie would always divert the conversation before Steve could spiral too much.

He always gave the same farewell when it came time for Steve to hang up so he could study or take part in whatever activity Robin has dragged him into that week.

"I'll be here," Eddie always said. "Don't worry about me. I could wait forever for you, big boy."

The third and fourth year went the same as the first.

Each Christmas was glorious. But, for the third Christmas, they'd managed to organise enough so they could spend a whole week in Hawkins.

Eddie insisted on taking polaroids of them. His favorite is the one he'd snapped of Steve, who was unaware, soft and sleepy in Eddie's kitchen.

"This is the last year," Steve told him, at the start of his fifth year. "Just this year, then I'm coming home."

One more year. It was the phrase that had been getting Eddie through the waiting, but it didn't help anymore. It only made it worse.

He couldn't stop thinking about how, when Steve does come back, he's staying.

Wayne helped him move out the trailer, and into his own. It wasn't any bigger than Wayne's, but it was enough for Eddie. He knew it would be enough for Steve.

The hideout didn't pay well, but Eddie was careful with his government hush money. He had plenty, more than enough to last a lifetime if budgeted right.

He made sure everything was ready for Steve. He made sure their home was ready.

And, when Steve does come home, all Eddie feels is love.

"Welcome home," Eddie says, leading him into their trailer.

"Oh, it's perfect," Steve whispers.

Eddie can hear the genuine awe in his voice. He grabs Steve, turning him around so he can finally see the expression too.

"You're so beautiful," Eddie says. "God, I missed you so much."

Steve practically throws himself at Eddie, their teeth clashing harshly with how hard Steve kisses him.

"Fuck," Steve groans, holding Eddie's face in both his hands. "You really waited for me all this time- Eds, God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. I love you, more than anything, baby. You're worth the wait, you're so worth it."

[writing-for-life]

The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels

Part 2: Bully for You—An Unhinged Interlude

Okay, I’ve spent the whole @sandman-rarepair-fest with tragic relationships, poetry and being serious.

And while this relationship is also… tragic, it’s neither poetic nor to be taken seriously, although a small group of us are fully committed to the cause: Behold, the crack ship! Morpheus x The Helm! For the Monsterfucker prompt.

(It’s highly advisable to read part one first, but they can sort of exist independently. Just not as well 🤣)

Bully For You: An Unhinged Interlude (2321 words) by Writing-for-Life Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Desire of the Endless, The Helm (The Sandman) Additional Tags: I Blame Tumblr, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Or Is It?, Muhulhu, Drat! A HelmLord Story, Murphy and his Cool Hat, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Swearing, Masturbation, Anal Something, Because I have no clue what they are doing honestly, helm fucking, Monsterfucking of sorts, It's a Dream of a Thousand Cats Situation, At least a thousand fanfic writers were thinking of the same thing, but he actually enjoyed it, although he would never admit to it, Dream and the Helm finally get it on, About Time, tags what tags they make no sense, don't get your hopes up, this is not really smut, it has all the marks of being explicit, but somehow it's really not Series: Part 2 of The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements Summary:

Where we witness how the Lord of Dreams loses his bearings (no, not those ones), and even Desire needs a stiff drink…

If you always wanted to know what's so special about Dream's relationship with his Helm (capital H on occasion), this might provide some answers. Or raise more questions than you ever dared to ask...

Excerpt:

Desire had felt… things for a short while but shrugged the sensations off. Until they became impossible to ignore. Because he wanted something without their doing (although what comes first, or who, was sometimes hard to tell, but not to get lost in details at this point, dear reader). In lieu of ridiculous desires like “something beyond my function, blah blah”, it would usually be shaped like a woman. Since Desire had given him Killalla (and maybe, just maybe, taken her away again, which still made them chuckle), he had developed a bit of a kink for female-shaped mortals. Well, they hadn’t all been mortal, but the “female-shaped” still stood. And because of the mere fact that their brother was so painfully strait-laced (we suggest the spelling “straight-laced” here, dear reader), it came as a bit of a surprise to feel those decidedly different vibes. Dream wanted something. But it wasn’t a woman, or anything remotely female-shaped. It was…

What the heck was it?

Desire concentrated really hard.

It seemed to be something forged in the fever dream of a blacksmith who took his inspiration from a lobster and a nightmare. Something otherworldly, something with a spine like the tail of a crustacean. Truly, if a lobster decided to pursue a career in gothic architecture and at the same time became some sort of… headgear, it would probably look like this.

Desire first rolled their eyes but then felt their breath catching. “It’s his fucking helm,” they muttered. “Please give me a break. He wants to fuck his helm…”

Brother Dream, master of the subconscious, running his hand tenderly, with a slight shake, over the spine of that ludicrous thing. Desire laughed out loud, but the laugh was short-lived, because things began to unravel. Rapidly…

Read the rest here (otherwise I have to add a content label 🤣)

[the-bar-sinister]

Seeing that other ask made me decide to actually ask this directly but like the other day /766229604596842496/ this got me wanting to write some fic; but I’m really new to all this and don’t know the social rules and expectations of if that’s okay or only okay in certain methods or what have you? Like I’d love to write and share it on ao3 as my first fic but I don’t want to step wrongly about how to do it if you don’t mind

Here are the important things when you're posting your first fic on AO3.

ONE: Make sure to select any of the four appropriate archive warnings for your fic.

These are:

"Author chose not to warn": This means "read at your own risk". Select this warning if you don't want to spoil your readers as to whether your fic has any content related to the other warnings in it.

"Graphic Violence": This means you want to warn readers that your fic has heavy or detailed descriptions of violence in it.

"Underage": This means that you want to warn readers that your fic contains descriptions of sex that involves characters who are underage.

"Major character death": This means that you want to warn readers that a major character in your story dies.

"No archive warnings apply: This means you want to let readers know that your fic does not contain major character death, underage sex, or graphic violence.

TWO: Give your fic a summary. It doesn't have to be long, sometimes the shorter the better! If you can't think of how to summarize your fic, you can just take a excerpt from the fic itself and put it there.

THREE: Tag the characters in your fic. Some people tag every character who appears in their fic no matter how minor, but this actually makes it more difficult for people to find fic about the characters they like. It's usually better only to tag the characters who are important in your fic.

FOUR: Tag the ships in your fic. Like with character tags its best to stick to only the major pairings that you're writing about, and not to list background ships. If you want to warn for background ships, its better to do that in an author's note.

FIVE: Additional tags. You don't have to go crazy here, fewer tags is often better. You want to tag the genre of your story (is it romance? adventure? fantasy? horror?) and tag a few tropes if there are major common tropes that pop up in your fic so people can find it by looking through those tags. People often also use additional tags to say what kind of ending the fic has, and what POV the fic is written from (first person, second person, third person.)

If your fic has a main character, consider adding the additional tag (character)-centric, or POV (character) as well to help people who are interested in that character find your work!

And that's all you really need to know!

Other than that, there are no rules to writing fic, and no hidden "social norms" of AO3.

There's no algorithm to game to get better stats, so just write your fic, tag it, and post it!

Then you can share it on tumblr!

If there were more specific questions that you had, or if I missed the nuance of or misunderstood your question, please, please feel free to send me a follow up message, but I hope I could help!

[freddie-77-ao3]

sup yall we're vibing here

anyway. hey, my name's freddie, and i'm finally trying to write an actual intro/master post which... we'll see how this goes.

important stuff is highlighted in orange.

so, basic stuff:

as I said, my name's freddie. he/him pronouns. i'm a college student (majoring in accounting, might add a psych minor). not gonna say which college but i'm currently in california.

i've been on tumblr since 2019 i think? not under this account, this started as a fandom account and then spiralled out of control... really fast. um, my regular tumblr which i've not actually opened in ages is @chronicchthonic14 so. yeah.

not particularly relevant to this blog, but i might mention it at some point so, i have autism and adhd. and some other things but. like. that list is very long and those are the two most relevant because i promise if i come off wrong/mean, i didn't mean to, i just forget to make my words normal. but. those are the two most referenced. if for whatever reason someone wants to know more or has questions you can send an ask ig?

i'm scottish, born there. moved to US when I was four. finishing uni and moving back.

some quick warnings

this blog definitely contains cursing/vulgar language, whatever you want to call it, so if you're not comfortable with that, probably not the blog for you, as i don't tag cursing or anything for you to filter out.

if, for whatever reason, if i ever reblog something that contains a slur (against racial minorities, queer people, anything) i will ABSOLUTELY tag that though.

also if anyone has any trigger warnings they think any content needs, please let me know-- asks, dms, comments, reblogs

the cursing thing also applies for sort of dirty jokes? think that only applies to like. two posts and very not explicit. those aren't currently tagged but if they get any more explicit they certainly will be.

queer identity because the explicit reminded me, i'm asexual, and probably straight. maybe bi? dunno, don't particularly care. and i'm trans. ftm. this isn't the blog i talk about that on usually though, unless it relates to a specific ask or a fandom thing.

which, getting into what this blog is for because i can't think of anything else i need to add here (guys let me know if i forgot important stuff, please, i'm an idiot!!! i will forget the important stuff and write random shit instead!! i've already deleted three tangents from this!!)

sooooo

fandoms!! ones i write and/or post about or will potentially post about

percy jackson extending to hoo, toa, tkc (definitely post way less about this), mcga (again, way less). haven't read TSATS or COTG yet, but spoilers are fine. i post way more about minor characters. write fanfiction for and have some posted (both on here and ao3) and a bunch of snippets.

dcu-- films, comics, animated shows, all of it. personally, my favorites are young justice (the comics, not show version), new teen titans, and batman inc (batgirls, nightwing, and red robin esp). late 90s yj run is my favorite, and i loved the DCeased event. favorite batman comic is definitely court of owls run. no fanfics posted, but some on docs.

mcu-- way less so, but have a stucky oneshot. slowly making my way through in timeline order.

throne of glass. i'm an aedion and chaol apologizer because they do a bunch of dumb shit but then WHO DOESN'T in this series. fanfics in doc, not posted.

this would go on for ages if i listed everything so instead, here's an ask i answered on my fandoms/genres and everything. feel free to send me asks about anyone. if you send me something about radium girls i may cry though (tears of joy) so there's your advanced warning.

main things you'll see on my blog are incorrect quotes, snippets, and the occasional fic

this^^

my... idk, contact policy? seriously what do i word this

asks are always open, anon is on.

if you send hate... whatever. i'll probably delete it.

unless i find it funny. then I'll post it. there's really little you could say to me that would hurt.

when i say asks are always open, you can drop anything you want.

literally anything

you need to vent? want advice? want to request headcanons? request a fic? give me a prompt? ask random things about me? something else I've forgotten? go right ahead

if you want to ask me to update my fics? go right ahead. sometimes i forget i didn't post something.

send as many asks as you want, i don't care if it might be spam

i can't promise i'll respond to asks in a timely manner, sometimes i open my inbox and forget they exist for months, i'm sorry. if it's something you really want answered you can send another one

dm's are alright? if you want to be friends or something, go right ahead.

anyone can reblog any of my posts/comment/heart, i don't care. you want to heart 50 things in a row? i adore you. if i had kids, you would get my firstborn

if we're mutuals you can ask for my insta/give me yours.

now, other accounts:

anyway, i think that's it?

[kochanski]

Study Buddy

Rimmer/Lister, rated E, no content warnings apply. Pre-accident fic. Rimmer is trying to study for his astro-navigation exams. Lister decides to distract him. (This is a repost so you can read while AO3 is down/for further archival purposes.)

"I haven't even said anything yet!" What a way to walk in the door on a Saturday morning. Lister only had a few hours to crash and recover from last night's drunken tomfoolery so he'd be prepared for tonight's drunken tomfoolery, and his roommate had carpeted the bunkroom in a colorful patchwork of neon squares. "What's all this?"

"Forget it, Lister."

"You know what they are," Rimmer hissed from the eye of the storm. "They're my revision timetables, and I was trying to organize them before you bungled into the room and destroyed an entire seven percent of all my hard work!"

Lister looked down. He'd stepped on one of the hundreds of papers Rimmer had strewn about the place.

"I thought you just failed the last exam. Don't you have months before you can retake it?"

"Exactly! I only have five months, twenty-eight days and three hours, so I have to organize my study time effectively or I'll never pass."

"Or," Lister offered, hesitant to even bring it up, "you could come out with me tonight. Me and the guys. Blow off some steam, y'know, maybe even take Kochanski's advice to heart and get laid."

"By who?" Rimmer snorted, gesturing at himself. "You've said it yourself- I have a snowball's chance of finding someone who'll put up with this."

"C'mon, man, you're not bad-looking. Just put on a short-sleeved shirt and keep your mouth shut."

"No thank you," Rimmer said. "Despite your best efforts to undermine me, Lister, I actually happen to have life goals that don't involve notches in my bedpost or setting the record for how many peanuts I can stick up my nose."

"I dunno, I think you could beat me at that second one by a long shot," Lister snickered, but he started towards his bunk, trying to tiptoe between the mess of paper and highlighters with little success. "You could do a lot of things if you just took a break from endless revisions and locking yourself in stasis."

"Forget it, Lister," he repeated. "Nothing you say or do can distract me. Go to bed."

Lister paused mid-tiptoe.

"Nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"So anything I do, you're just going to keep on drawing squares with those stupid markers?"

"Yes!" He crossed his arms, nostrils flaring. "What don't you get about the concept? I am mentally shutting out everything and everyone that isn't a revision timetable, because I have to get this done today."

"Alright," Lister smirked, and he kicked up a cloud of pink and yellow on his way to grab his guitar.

"Very mature," Rimmer retorted, picking up the lime green and trying his best to ignore the situation.

Lister sat on Rimmer's thin mattress and twisted the knobs on the top bit of the guitar until the strings were as discordant from one another as he could make them. Rimmer wouldn't be able to tell the difference- he thought everything Lister played was trash- but might as well go the whole hog, anyway, right?

"Met me a girl, straight from Mars, and she spent all my money and broke my heart," Lister sang, savoring every last little crack in Rimmer's concentration. "Then I got me a date with a bird from Jupiter, yeah, fools rush in but I was stupider-"

It wasn't working nearly as well as he'd expected it would, though. Rimmer barely winced when he sang the verse about the bloke from Venus.

"Are you done?" he asked impassively when the song was over. "I'd like to put on some Tchaikovsky to cleanse my palette now, if you don't mind."

"What the smeg is a chai cough ski? A sport you do when you're sick in the Himalayas? D'you chug a cup of tea and try to keep it down while you're slalom-ing between the trees?" He mimed holding a pair of ski sticks and waggled his feet.

"For-get it, Lister," Rimmer said a third time, standing up and starting to walk to the locker where he kept his record collection. "I'm not dignifying your pathetic attempt at a joke with a response."

"You already have responded, though," Lister said, still unsure what exactly Rimmer had said. "I've won."

Rimmer paled and stopped in his tracks. Then, slowly, without disturbing his pile of highlighters, he silently sat back down and began furiously coloring in another of his squares.

"What? You're gonna just ignore me, then?"

No response.

"C'mon, Rimmer, I was just trying to loosen you up. You don't have to give me the silent treatment."

Nothing.

Well, Lister couldn't have that. He tossed the guitar up top and got down on the floor, peering over Rimmer's shoulder. Yeah, maybe invading his space was low-hanging fruit, but Lister'd always had stubby arms.

"Two hours for reviewing spherical trigonometry? You think that's enough?"

"Brush your teeth if you're going to talk directly into my ear," Rimmer said, but he shivered a little.

Hmm.

No, this was a horrible idea. And Lister was still clearly a bit buzzed if he was even considering it, and it seemed a bit on the cruel side as far as pranks went.

But Rimmer had said nothing would distract him. And that Lister could do absolutely anything.

"I thought you weren't s'posed to pay me any attention?" he murmured in a low voice, moving closer, so that he was sure his breath hit Rimmer's ear and neck.

"I'm not. I'm- I'm simply thinking aloud. To myself." His ears were red. "It just happens that I think you reek of watered-down beer."

"Well, you smell good, at least," Lister continued, leaning in to press his nose into Rimmer's hair. "You always smell kind of like laundry." It was a totally awkward attempt at flirting, horrible, but he was tired beyond belief. Lister's last good brain cells had gone on strike, and he was left with whatever half-witted scabs the boss had dragged up to do the job.

Not that it mattered to good old Arnie. He'd actually stopped coloring for a second, the ever-turning cogs in his head grinding to a violent halt. He leaned forward, brushing Lister away, and started scribbling like a madman.

"This is a losing game you're playing. All you're doing is making yourself look stupid and desperate. Time is of the essence, and I absolutely won't get mixed up in whatever slime-brained ideas you have about my sexuality."

"Hang on, who said anything about sexuality?" Lister grinned. "I just said you smelled nice, and then I smelled you."

"Ah, I'd forgotten, you and your Neanderthal friends think this type of behavior is normal. You all smell each other's crotches and pick fleas off one another in lieu of a hello or a handshake."

"Still just thinkin' aloud? 'Cause it sounds like you're having a conversation with me now."

"Troglodyte," Rimmer spat, and nearly put a hole in the paper with the pink highlighter.

Lister touched his back, lightly, just fingertips, and Rimmer flinched for a second but tried not to react.

"C'mon, Rimmer, relax. It's a Saturday. Saturdays are meant for lazing about and recoverin' from the long work week, not for stressing yourself out over a stupid exam that's six months from now."

Rimmer really looked like he wanted to correct Lister that it was five months and however many days and hours, but his mouth stayed shut. It was almost a shame, because normally Lister couldn't get him to be quiet for five minutes on a good day.

Lister moved his hand across Rimmer's back in soft strokes. His nose and mouth nuzzled into the corner where Rimmer's left shoulder met his neck. He could feel the skin get hotter, feel that Rimmer had forgotten how to think for a moment, the annoying marker-on-paper noise stopping entirely.

"Lister," he gasped, before remembering himself. "I- Lister! Look what you've done! Six o'clock on the fourteenth was supposed to be blue, and you've gone and made me fill it in with orange."

"Come on, Rimmer, just leave it."

"Can't you just go to bed and leave me to my misery like you normally do? Why torment me like this? Why today, of all days, when I'm doing something this important?" He sounded actually exasperated, somewhere between whining and pleading, and Lister might or might not have felt a tiny pang of guilt.

"Someone has to save you from yourself. Besides, if I went to sleep in here you'd either wake me up 'cause I was snorin' too loud, or I'd end up covered in timetable when you ran out of room on the floor." Lister wrapped his arms around Rimmer's waist from behind, leaning forward. "Just admit I've won, put the markers away, an' I'll quit bothering you. We can chalk the whole thing up to me being drunk, never speak of it again."

"No."

"No?"

Rimmer set down the highlighter and pulled Lister's arms apart, turning around to face him with this strangely calm look on his face. It was the same kind of weird serenity that usually happened right before he was about to do something insane, and Lister's stomach wrapped itself in knots.

"Lister, do you know what time it is?"

"What time is it?"

"One-thirty in the afternoon," Rimmer said in a monotone, "and according to schedule, I should have finished the timetables by one. Perhaps a few minutes I could have made up here and there, but half an hour?"

"So…"

"So I'm going to have to re-do all of it. All five months and twenty-eight days and so on. I'll have to write it all out and reschedule everything. Every last bit. And you-" Rimmer reached forward, grabbing Lister by the collar. "Help me," he choked, and it was more of a plea than the command he'd probably intended.

So Lister helped him.

He pressed his mouth squarely against Rimmer's, half-surprised when there was no resistance- but, yeah, no, Rimmer'd probably been relieved for an excuse to quit making himself miserable.

Rimmer had no clue how to kiss back, but his fist tightened around the fabric of Lister's shirt, yanking him closer, and that was good as anything. Lister broke the kiss, moving his hands up to cup Rimmer's face.

"Open your mouth," he said gently, and Rimmer opened it wide like he was at his annual checkup. "Alright, don't unhinge your jaw. Just-" He grabbed Rimmer's chin with his finger and thumb, moving his jaw upward until they were both properly positioned. It felt sort of like a movie kiss, like one of those black-and-whites, and he tried to channel Cary Grant as best he could as he pressed their lips together. He wanted this to be as perfect as possible, he thought, without really thinking about why he was doing any of it.

As Lister pushed his way into Rimmer's mouth, he was met with this little whiny sort of noise. God, he hadn't expected this to be so hot, but it was- Rimmer's whimpering in this context set all his nerve endings on fire. He stroked the side of Rimmer's face, slow, keeping rhythm. The kiss was the same way- Lister would lurch forward a bit, then pull back, scraping his teeth against Rimmer's bottom lip on his way out. If nothing else, he'd never been told he was a bad kisser. He only pulled away completely when he realized Rimmer wasn't breathing.

"You-" Rimmer panted, red-faced, letting go of Lister's shirt. He'd stretched out the neck of it beyond repair. "That isn't at all what I meant by helping."

"Well, I'm not about to spend the next ten hours doing the color-by-number from hell." Lister let his hands fall to Rimmer's shoulders. "I can think of better things to do, eh?"

"If you're asking my permission to- to have your way with me, I'm not going to just say it."

"Why not? What's the worst that can happen?"

"You're drunk."

"More hungover than anything," Lister argued, "and exhausted."

"Well, exactly. You're not in your right mind, as proven by the way you just forced yourself on me, so it's better if this doesn't go any further."

"Now hang on, that's not fair. We were both having a good time-"

"Having a good time. You thought that was good?"

"Wait, are you saying it wasn't good?"

"No, I mean- you thought it was good, you kissing me? That it was something you actually liked?"

"I don't know how to explain this, Rimmer, but you're not a hideous beast. Somebody might actually fancy you someday if you'd just let them."

"So this wasn't just a prank. You… meant to do this."

"It is a prank, but I also liked it. Smeg, it can be that simple." Lister slid his hands down from Rimmer's shoulders to his chest. "Come on. Give me a real reason we shouldn't."

"It's difficult to switch bunkroom assignments. As you well know."

"Why's that a problem?"

"Well, afterward, when you regret it, and you can't get rid of me." Rimmer said it without hesitation, in his same prim tone of disdain, like it was fact. Like it was some holy scripture somebody had carved on a rock ten thousand years ago, or some kind of scientific law everyone had memorized by primary school. E equals em cee squared. Nobody will ever like Arnold Rimmer enough to shag him twice.

It was depressing, was what it was.

"Look," Lister started, uncertain. This had all been completely impulse up to this point, and he hadn't come prepared to give Rimmer a pep talk. "We've been stuck together hating each other's guts for the better part of two years, right? What if we just tried something different for a bit?"

"Oh, like what? You can't expect me to believe you're actually, genuinely proposing-" He paled. "You are, aren't you."

"So?"

"You're just doing this because Kochanski dumped you, and she was the last woman on this ship with the unfortunate lack of self-respect to sleep with you sober."

"I dunno, you're sober, and you seemed pretty happy to have my tongue halfway down your throat a minute ago, didn't you?"

"You- I- well, who can have self-respect when they've gone and ruined their one chance at acing the exam? Anyone would feel depressed after that. You're the one taking advantage."

"Right, fine, then, I give up. I'm going to bed." Lister let go of Rimmer.

"Don't do that," he protested. "I haven't properly rejected you yet."

"Well, hurry up and pull the trigger. The bars open at four, so I only really have about two hours of good sleep before Petersen calls me up again."

"Alright, I will."

"Great," Lister said, shaking his head and pushing himself up into a squat, but in the next instant Rimmer had him flat against the floor, paper rustling beneath them. "Oh," he grinned.

"Don't say a single word."

"S'that an order?"

"I… maybe it is."

"You know I don't follow those."

"What if I make you?"

"Make me?" Lister echoed, delighted. Smeg, Rimmer was going to boss him around. How far could he push this? "You can't make me do anything. You're the second-to-last rung on the ladder."

"I'm the second technician," Rimmer insisted, "which means you're beneath me both literally and figuratively. You're a worm," he continued, moving his hands up Lister's chest, "and you should be grovelling at my feet, begging for your life like the insect you are."

He was good at this. Or maybe he earnestly believed it. Either way, whatever retort Lister had died in his throat and he nodded.

"Glad we finally understand each other." Rimmer took a deep breath, clearly trying to summon something. Courage, maybe. Or he was trying to ward off his disgust. "Er- what do I do next?"

Lister shrugged- not a single word, right- and pointed at his mouth.

"Not that again- not until you've brushed your teeth," Rimmer complained. "Somewhere else."

Lister pointed downwards.

"Oh, shut up," Rimmer said, grabbing his hands. "I'll figure it out."

He leaned forward, pushing Lister's chin back until it pointed towards the ceiling. He peppered soft kisses over Lister's neck, if you could call them that. They were less kisses and more Rimmer clumsily smushing his mouth and nose against Lister's skin, but it wasn't bad. Actually, it felt sort of nice, having Rimmer's full concentration leveled at him in a way that didn't involve yelling or a trip to the captain's office. He let out a sigh of contentment.

"You like that?"

Lister nodded.

"Can I…" Rimmer toyed with the too-loose neck of his poor ruined T-shirt. "I want this off," he said, quieter with each syllable.

Lister grinned, pushing Rimmer into an upright position. He shimmied out of his jacket with some difficulty, pulling his shirt up over his head and flinging it vaguely towards the hamper.

"Better," Rimmer said. "You're so eager to follow orders, now that you think you're getting something out of it. It's frankly disgusting."

"Yeah? You want me to start disobeying?"

"No. I'm just saying, think of all the time and effort we could have saved if you'd have listened to me from the start." His hands started exploring, and Lister's skin prickled everywhere his fingers touched. They were a lot softer than he'd expected, although it made sense. Rimmer never did any of the actual work, when would he have developed callouses? "Imagine. If I'd offered to have sex with you years ago, we could have been so efficient together. Why, we'd have rocketed straight to the top of the ladder."

"You think so? That's what was holdin' you back so long, not havin' proper access to my cock?"

"I-" Rimmer froze. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I mean, I agree. Maybe if I'd been reamin' you every night, you'd be relaxed enough to score higher than a seven on your exams."

"This is why I wanted you to stay quiet," Rimmer said, and he leaned forward and pressed a shaky kiss to Lister's mouth. His hands didn't stop, cupping and squeezing Lister's chest like they were the best pair of knockers he'd ever felt up- probably true- and grazing his thumbs over both nipples. Lister squirmed.

"Feels weird."

"Isn't this what you're supposed to do?"

"Yeah, with girls. Nobody's done this on my tits before."

"Well, is it good weird or bad weird?"

"I can't tell." It felt vaguely uncomfortable, like when you hit the wrong spot digging lint out of your belly button, but on the other hand, that electric tingle seemed to feed right into the warm arousal happening in his groin.

Rimmer scooted down and kissed one of his nipples, the dirty bastard, opened his mouth and licked it, and Lister made up his mind very quickly that this was a thing he liked.

"Keep doing that," he breathed. Rimmer's tongue was hot, and when he moved to the other side Lister could feel cold air on the wet spot he'd left. His hips moved upwards of their own volition into Rimmer's stomach. "God, Rimmer, yes. Just like that."

"Keep still," Rimmer complained, grabbing Lister's hips, and of course that didn't help things. "If you keep fidgeting I'm not going to be able to concentrate on what I'm doing."

"I'm fidgeting because you're doing a good job."

"Well, I'm hardly going to be able to keep up my stellar performance if you squirm like that," he continued, clearly not getting it. "Just lay still."

"Rimmer, I'm not going to be able to lay completely still. I'm not Rachel."

"You- how do you know about Rachel?"

"C'mon, man, you're not subtle. I always have to keep an ear out for squeaking before I come in the door." Lister shook his head. "I'm the real thing, alright, I'm gonna move and react, and it's a good thing. Means you're driving me up the wall."

"I am?"

"Yeah," Lister said, dropping into a softer, huskier tone. "I want it bad, Rimmer. I want you."

"You want me," he repeated, skeptical, but his face was going pink again. "Are you- er- clean?"

"C'mon, you know they screen us constantly for that sort of thing."

"I meant physically clean, Lister, you idiot. I'm not going to take off these trousers if it means chemical warfare."

"I just showered yesterday morning," he protested. "You were there."

"Yesterday morning was before a night of debauchery and drinking."

"If you're going to be annoying about it, I'll make do with over-the-clothes, alright?"

"No," Rimmer said firmly. "I've already completely debased myself, there's no point in doing things halfway now."

"Look, do whatever's comfortable, not what you think you have to." Lister reached up, stroking the spot where Rimmer's jaw met his neck. "We're here to have ourselves a good time, and you don't have anything to prove, right?"

"I'd say there's a lot to prove, actually-"

"Rimmer. Turn your brain off. I want you and I like what you're doing."

Maybe being blunt did the trick, because he seemed to relax a bit.

"Alright. You first, and then me. Sound good?"

"Yeah, stellar."

"Lights off," Rimmer said, then fumbled in the dark with the fly of Lister's trousers. "Smeg."

"I've got it." Lister reached down and unzipped. He took Rimmer's hand, gently, and placed it over his crotch. Maybe there was something to the whole blindness-enhancing-your-senses thing, because he swore he could hear every minor change in Rimmer's breathing. He was either incredibly anxious or really aroused, judging by the way his breath hitched. Could be both.

"Lister," he started, hesitant. "How… I mean, obviously you just- how do I-"

"Move your hand up and down," Lister sighed. "Just pretend it's yours."

"Right, but if I can't feel it, how am I supposed to know if it's too rough? What if I… break it?"

"Break it?" Lister didn't know whether to laugh or zip his pants back up immediately. "How smegging hard's your death grip, man?"

"No, I mean, how do I know if I'm doing it right?"

"Well, if I'm not screamin' at you to stop, you're probably on the right track, yeah? I'm easy to please."

"Emphasis on easy," Rimmer retorted, and Lister was about to say something back, but Rimmer was peeling back his underwear.

He tested the waters, gingerly wrapping his fingers around Lister's shaft and applying light pressure. Then squeezed gently. Then a little tighter.

"That's good," Lister said. "Right there."

"It's wet," Rimmer complained. "You're over-excited already, aren't you?" He moved his hand slowly from base to tip and back, once, twice, three times, achingly slow. "You like this."

"Yeah, I do. I do," Lister repeated, grinding his hips up against Rimmer's fist. Any extra friction, anything to get him to pick up the pace. Lister's temperature was rising, unbearably warm, and his few remaining brain cells had all but melted away by this point. The only thought he could keep in his mind for more than a second was that Rimmer- his Rimmer, his annoying bunkmate, total straight-laced prick, had him lying naked on the floor arching his back.

"Tell me… tell me you like me," Rimmer tried, voice a little softer.

"I like you," Lister babbled. "I like you so much. God, you're so weirdly sexy, I honestly didn't think I'd be this desperate, but you're just so-" Kissing. Rimmer was kissing him all of a sudden, sloppy, just kind of wriggling his tongue around in there- but it was good, even if Rimmer didn't know what he was doing in the slightest. He sucked Rimmer's tongue and was rewarded with another one of those shaky, whiny noises. Too bad the lights were off- he would have thrown away half his salary to see the look on Rimmer's face then they pulled apart.

"I'm- I'm going to try something, and you can't laugh at me if it goes sideways." His voice was a little more determined. Clearly, he'd gained confidence somehow.

"Yeah, I'm game. Anything you want."

A bit of shuffling as Rimmer repositioned himself between Lister's legs.

He hadn't really expected much of anything, certainly nothing shocking- maybe Rimmer was going to use his left hand instead of his right- but oh, oh, all of a sudden his cock was in Rimmer's mouth.

A wave of pleasure rolled through him. Rimmer's whole tongue-waggling technique was a hell of a lot more effective brushing rhythmically against his head. "Ahh- just- just watch your teeth, alright?"

"Mmph."

"Finally found a way to shut you up," Lister laughed, and that stopped Rimmer dead in his tracks.

"If I recall, this started because you wanted me to talk to you." He could picture the furrowed brow, the annoyed frown, maybe softened with a hint of fondness. Wishful thinking.

"I just wanted your attention," Lister admitted. "I like when you pay attention to me, Arn."

"You- I- shut up and let me do this," Rimmer snapped, clearly flustered. Ah- he'd hit some sort of nerve.

"I mean it," he struggled, trying to find coherent words in the tangled state of sensation his brain was in. Rimmer was licking up the length of him, exploring at his leisure, and Lister only half-managed to suppress a groan when he found a ridge on the underside to rub against. "Mmn- you're so good at this- driving me mad-"

Rimmer put him back in his mouth, sucking tight around his cock, and- his hips jerked forward- with a jolt of molten, white-hot energy, he felt himself tumble over the edge. Smeg. He'd meant to say something before shooting a load into Rimmer's mouth, but-

"Lister?!" Rimmer sounded horrified.

"Sorry, man, I wasn't- I didn't expect to-"

"I swallowed it."

"You what?"

"It wasn't on purpose! What do I do, I mean- should I try to make myself throw up, or-"

"It's not poison."

"Well, I don't imagine it's good for you, either!" A pause. "And it won't- well, of course it wouldn't- I don't have the parts…"

"You're not gonna get pregnant, you prat!" He couldn't help laughing. "What sort of sex education do they have on Io?"

"Not the same-sex kind," Rimmer mumbled, hurt. Lister sighed and leaned forward into the dark, a scrap of timetable stuck to his upper back. He found Rimmer's shoulders, then the collar of his shirt, and finally his jaw, pressing an earnest kiss against Rimmer's lips.

"It's alright. Promise I'll pay the child support."

"That's disgusting. You know what's just been in my mouth."

"So? Maybe I like it." Lister pulled his underwear back up and shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning against the bottom bunk. "Anyway, we agreed on taking turns. Come on. You're next."

"That's hardly necessary. Really. I think I've gone through my phase, I've had my experience, and I'm done."

"If you really mean that, then I'll go on and get me clothes back on, but… so far, you've been kind of shit at telling me what you really want. I mean, you accuse me of coming onto you and then jump my bones the next second."

"Well," Rimmer said, cautiously, "what if you just… held me while I did it?"

"Alright." He reached out again, swinging Rimmer's legs over his lap. Like this, Rimmer could lean against his shoulder- did, actually, and his cheek was red-hot. Lister smiled and wrapped his arms around Rimmer's waist, tight. "Feeling cozy enough?"

"Cozy." Rimmer scoffed. "Sure. Chocolate and marshmallows next to a roaring fire."

"Can I kiss you during, or is this a totally hands-off sort of thing?"

"Again, I have your… your sperm in my mouth."

"Can't be worse than what I had for breakfast."

"Fine, then." Rimmer lifted his head. "If you- if you really want to, I suppose you can kiss me."

"Brutal," Lister grinned, finding Rimmer's lips and nipping at the bottom one with his teeth. Rimmer seemed to like being bitten, the way he dug his fingernails into Lister's arm, squirmed. This was probably a first for him, right? Lister pulled away, nuzzling Rimmer's cheek, and worked his way back until he could get Rimmer's earlobe gently between his teeth.

"Lister, are you trying to eat me?" His tone was half-incredulous, but strained, and he'd dug his nails in again.

"Yeah, guess I am." Lister grabbed Rimmer by the jaw, tilting his head so that he could get at the skin of his neck.

"That…" The argument died in Rimmer's throat, replaced by a soft, meek "okay."

Rimmer still smelled good, like pressed laundry, like aftershave, though the room around them was starting to smell of sex. His skin was way softer than it had any right to be- probably the regular bathing, the constant exercise, the annoying bottles of moisturizing such-and-such that crowded his locker. Lister bit down a little harder. Maybe it felt better than it should have, ruining Rimmer's stupid perfect skin. Maybe he'd leave a mark, right above the collar, annoyingly hard to cover up without being obvious about it.

"Lister," Rimmer groaned, one hand digging into Lister's back. The other had started to move back and forth, slowly, and Lister realized with a twinge of arousal that he was feeling himself up through his pants. Smeg.

"Such a hypocrite," he murmured against Rimmer's neck. "You keep callin' me disgusting and easy and everything, but I bet you won't last more than a minute if I keep this up."

"That's beside the point," Rimmer argued.

"Which point? The part where you gave me a handjob, or the one where you sucked me off?"

"Lister-" His tone was angry, but his hand was moving faster.

"I mean it. You're a total whore, I mean, now that you finally have someone to mess around with. You've been dying for a chance to do this, haven't you? You been rubbing one out, thinking about how good my cock would feel in your mouth?"

"Yes," Rimmer choked. "God, I- there's no excuse- I just wanted-"

"It's okay," Lister said, moving the hand that wasn't supporting Rimmer down his chest. If they had time, he would have unbuttoned the ugly beige uniform, slipped his hand under the tight white cotton shirt he knew was underneath. Maybe switched the light back on so he could have a proper look. But Rimmer was probably pretty close, judging by the way he was whimpering. "You deserve this. You needed this. And I liked giving it to you. You're so handsome, Rimmer, and you're such a good lay, really," he continued. "You're so good at this. Even this- if I had a round two in me, Rimmer, be on my knees begging you for it, I swear."

"Please," Rimmer whined, probably only having processed the word begging. "Please, Lister, please?"

"Alright," Lister shrugged, and he caught Rimmer's skin between his teeth again, and Rimmer shuddered, letting out a pained moan.

It really hadn't taken much at all to get him off, and Lister was sorry he hadn't had more time to try things.

"Alright," Rimmer panted. "You've had your fun. You can go back to tormenting me now. Tell all your stupid little friends I'm desperately homosexual, take out an ad in the ship newsletter."

"Actually, this is normally the part where we get a pizza and a bunch of curries and stay in bed for three days straight."

"Ah. Right. The only times I ever got peace and quiet were when you'd bugger off to some bimbo's bunkroom for a week-"

"Well, now you get to be the bimbo." Lister really wished he could make out more than faint outlines- Rimmer's expression was probably priceless. Yeah, enough. "Lights on."

It was a disaster- Rimmer's study schedule was scattered around them, torn and wrinkled; Lister's pants were still pulled halfway down, and his shirt had somehow made it around the top of one of the chairs when he'd tossed it aside.

And Rimmer- red-faced, rumpled, his tie crooked, a definite damp spot on the front of his pants. Beautiful.

"I need a shower," he squeaked, "and before you say a damned word, you aren't invited."

"Aw."

"When I come out, I want all the paper off the floor, and I expect you to be- less naked. Then we'll… we can discuss the idea of me not immediately putting in a reassignment request."

"Works for me," Lister grinned. Rimmer started to clamber out of his arms, but he pulled him back in. "Wait."

"What?"

Lister gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Right. Need to brush my teeth, too," Rimmer bristled, but he looked flustered-mad instead of angry-mad.

Hmmm. Lister threw his shirt back on, kicking the abandoned timetables into a messy pile by the hamper. All things considered, this had been one of the few times an impulse decision had worked out well. Maybe, when Rimmer got out of the shower, he could convince him to cuddle in the lower bunk and watch a movie or two. At the very least, he was sure Rimmer's mind was as far from the astronavigation exam as it could possibly get.

"Holly, can you send Petersen a quick message?" he asked. "Tell him I'm busy tonight. Last minute plans."

[funtxmequeen]

Rules

I am on mobile, so my tags are very minimal.

Do not reblog threads you are not apart of. This also applies to my headcanons, but I'm confident that the only people who reblog those are ppl who find it and don't realize this is an RP blog.

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Don't poop on the floor

Foxy is transfem. While I do not mind IN CHARACTER transph*bia for the sake of conflict and angst, I have an absolute ZERO TOLERANCE for ACTUAL transphobia. As such, anons who do not make it clear if the transph*bia is real or fake will be ip blocked immediately. (Ideally, send in an emoji of some sort so I can identify you, or if you're a mutual trying to stir up some drama, dm me ahead of time so we're on the same page.) Hate towards me or my muse will not be tolerated whatsoever.

IC transph*bia posts will be tagged "Transphobia," as a catch all, but if I need to make a specific tag, please tell me. I want the drama, but in no way do I want to make this blog unsafe for you. Any actual tr*nsphobic content I receive will not be posted.

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You never know what you're going to get with me. You may get a multipara starter/reply, you may get a few sentences. I don't expect you to match my length, especially if I've written a behemoth of a starter... but I do ask that you try to match my effort. If I'm writing a huge reply and you respond with something that doesn't match the setting or context, (and do this consistently,) I'm more than likely doing to drop threads, and if this keeps happening, I'll just soft block you. Yes I do this for fun, but I put abouts and rules and everything you need to know for a reason, and if you can't be bothered to put in the effort to read it, or properly read my responses, then don't even bother.

I am a mobile user. Maybe once in a while, I'll pop onto a computer at the library to fine tune posts like this, but it's hard, if not impossible for me to use the site to its full extent. As such, icons will not be used, tags will be scarce, and trimming posts will not be done the way I like.

Trimming posts are a strange area. I have adhd and autism, so the best way for a thread to be trimmed is with the last response still attached. This way I can remember what's going on in the thread, which will lead to an overall better rp experience. If posts don't get trimmed, I'll just have to make the reply and hit that big red X button that deletes everything before my response, so take that as a warning.

RESPECT MY FUCKING BOUNDARIES. I've had some issues with one individual who sucked me into this Fandom, they refused to take no for an answer, and forced me to rp an incest ship. This has scared me away from the rpc for years. If I say no, it does not mean "convince me," it means no. I have a three strikes your out policy.

I have a full-time job as a daycare teacher. I am not always online. Do not pester me for replies.

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In addition to this, if you do NOT like communicating via dms, please tell me, and I will stop. If you just ignore me or ghost me, I'm either going to continue to try and reach out, thinking you forgot or didn't get notified, or I'll become intimidated, and think I did something wrong. We're all adults here, we can use our words. You don't have to follow me if you don't want to interact.

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If you want to let me know you've read these, go ahead and like it, but it's not required, I use an honor system anyway.

[twobraincellkentwell]

Something To Remember Me Bye

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part Twelve

Series Masterlist Part One.

"ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰʀᴏɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ."

A confrontation with a certain redheaded victor is not on Clio's to-do list on what could be her final night alive.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Smut. The usual mentions of murder and death. Minors DNI.

A/N: First off, this chapter includes smut that I could probably improve but can't be arsed to rewrite so enjoy i guess (but only if you're over 18 please, minor DNI). It's split with the usual divider so you can skip if that's not your thing :))

Hello though happy Tuesday, the usual things apply. GIF not mine.

The victors all stand motionless waiting for direction from anyone. Peacekeepers keep a watchful eye on the twenty-four tributes as they congregate into small groups and mentors start to rush in from the audience to whisk their tributes away to their floors. The last tributes to be dragged from the stage; Clio chats idly with Cashmere, Gloss and Cato at the back of the hall.

"There's no way she's actually pregnant." Cashmere states once the groups of tributes have dispersed a little more, her eyes staring down the pair from Twelve who are being rushed into an open lift. "No pregnant woman acts like that."

"What?" The woman questions once she sees the questioning looks on the faces of the other three around her, the wide eyes of her brother quickly causing her to look away and silently beg for Clio to change the topic of conversation.

"And seriously, what's a mockingjay?" Clio quickly asks them, her mind still whirring as she processes not only Cashmere's words but the symbol she's been seeing appear on the sides of buildings in the districts.

"How the fuck am I meant to know?" Cato shrugs.

Cashmere and Gloss laugh in responses, the latter addressing the two's confusion, "you don't have birds in Two?"

"We have birds." Cato cocks his head to the side, nose wrinkled. "Just not those kinds of birds."

Clio can see Finnick as she looks over Cashmere's shoulder. His back is turned to their group but the girl can practically smell the pride emanating from the man as he stands upright with his back straight and chin tilted towards the ceiling; and from the way his shoulders shake lightly and his head bobs she can tell that the man is laughing to himself. She watches as Luna walks in his direction; half of her red hair is curled into an elaborate nautical knot on the top of her head while the rest flows behind her and the flush on her cheeks contrasts with the pearl lined teal trouser suit she was dressed in. Finnick opens his arms out expectantly as the girl walks closer to him, but to his visible surprise she slaps his arm down and ignores him by passing without a second look.

The woman's strides increase as she persists in ignoring her the man's protests at her rejection. It's clear the man is not used to being slighted as he anxiously chews on his lip whilst extending his arms to reach out for his girlfriend. Accelerating towards the group of victors in the back corner, the woman ignores the confused looks thrown her way by the other tributes and mentors. She raises a shaky hand and presses down on Clio's scar in instruction for the younger girl to follow her movements.

"If you don't get your hands off me Luna I swear to god," Clio cries out as the other career tributes and mentors clamour for the attention of the peacekeepers to remove the redheaded girl from the shorter woman before a fight breaks out and their lives are made harder in the arena. Clio forces Luna's hand from the long, raised scar across her collarbone but the older victor reacts quickly and wraps her fingers around Clio's wrist.

"Woah, woah, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Cato intervenes, leaning towards the two girls ready to free his girlfriend's wrist.

"Stealing your girlfriend for a quickie." The woman slurs. Four confused looks ripple across the faces of the group as howling laughter can be heard from Johanna who is just paces away from the group. The hysterics emitting from the woman causes a flicker of recognition to cross Luna's face as she comes to realise the dirty double meaning of her words.

How the fuck did I get in this situation with Loopy of all people, Clio giggles to herself, and her state of confusion around how Luna was able to grasp her wrist so quickly is what allows her to be tugged into an adjacent corridor by the woman from Four.

Her feet drag behind since Luna uses the few extra inches of height she holds over the woman to her advantage as she releases her wrist and shoves her into the wall.

"Holy shit," Clio snickers, "You're feeling particularly brave tonight."

Luna swallows hard, the muscles around her closed mouth tensing while her hands rake through her red hair. Refusing to meet Clio's eyes she spits out all her words in one go, "I don't- I have no idea why I'm telling you this but I need help and you- you're probably the only person here who has a healthy relationship- I mean you're both violent and insane but at least you don't-"

Clio just stares at Luna, dumbfounded, as she tries to process the words that are leaving the girl's mouth at a mile a minute. "Luna," she cuts off her rambling, "Please, for all things holy, get to the point before I leave you here."

Luna nods timidly, "I'm- I'm fed up of fighting with Finnick and then having to pretend that everything is fine when we're in the Capitol."

"What the fuck do you want me to do about it?" Clio questions.

"Well I- I guess I'm asking you for advice."

"Why don't you ask the trident that you seem so familiar with?" Clio spits, "dump him." She pushes herself off the wall, ready to walk away from the conversation before Luna presses her hand against her scar once more to keep her in place.

"I didn't want to dump him!" The girl whines, as if she was a small child being asked to share her favourite toy, "I just want to, I don't know, fix it?"

"The only way you can fix it is to stop pretending." Clio says, "Now can I go because unlike you I actually want to spend time with my boyfriend."

Without waiting for Luna to respond, Clio pushes herself from the wall once more and passes through the doors into an empty green room. Once she realises she's alone, her body slumps forwards as all the adrenaline she harnessed for her interview came flooding out of her. Without taking the time to observe her surroundings further, she heads towards the lift.

Alone, she rode the lift up to the second floor. She follows the delicious smell of dinner and feels her feet carrying her to the dining area where she finds Brutus, Cato and Enobaria sitting around the table waiting for her over food.

"There you are! My beautiful little vixen!" Enobaria says, opening her arms to envelope Clio in a tight hug. "You did wonderful, my dear."

Brutus stands to give the girl a hug, patting her on the back lightly before sliding back into his chair and reviewing the night's dinner offerings. "It's mayhem downstairs. They've sent everyone home and cancelled the programme on the television."

The group of four dig in to eat. After a meal of roast lamb, potatoes and baked vegetables, the four of them lean back in their chairs with full stomachs, and when an Avox brings a plate of pastries into the room, Clio is the only one to reach for a single cinnamon roll while her mentors ask for another bottle of red wine to be brought in. It's clear that the two older victors have already had a couple of glasses tonight, and by the state that she found Luna in earlier, it seems that all of the mentors decided they needed a drink after the events of the interviews.

Since the recap of the interviews has been removed from the usual television schedules, the screen is black once the group finish eating. The usual pre-games festivities that occur in the Capitol's streets aren't as loud this year, and if you were to peer down  you could tell that the turnout is small - likely sent home by peacekeepers and officials to prevent any potential unrest in the city. A sombre silence falls over the room as soon as the realisation of what tomorrow would bring settles over everyone. They were all just hoping that the interviews had made enough of an impact to get the Games moved or changed, but once Xanthe entered their floor with a sorrowful expression they knew that they wouldn't be so lucky. Guess only Cato is going home, Clio thinks.

"Despite all of their desperate attempts, fortunately for us the Games are still on!" Xanthe chirps, her heels clicking harshly against the floor as she makes her way towards her chair at the table. "They're all angry but I know I will see you two again soon."

Four pairs of eyes make their ways to Xanthe's exaggerated blue outfit as the woman stops in her tracks when she feels their stares. "We all know that's not true. Surely you're not stupid enough to think they'll make the same mistake twice." Clio spits back at the escort.

The woman freezes as even under her heavy makeup, her face pales in fear as she is afraid that she has just upset all four of her victors. "Oh you both deserved so much better." Xanthe gushes as she begins crying silently, trying to wipe her tears before anyone notices but she can't disguise her cries for long as she chokes out loud sobs.

"Well this is depressing." Cato laughs dryly, as Brutus and Enobaria smile to themselves while Clio throws her head back in laughter.

"I'm so glad you said that." She struggles to get her words out through her amusement, but Xanthe just smiles knowingly at the girl, aware that humour is what Clio uses to cope when faced with difficult situations.

Xanthe pulls them from their seats, wrapping the two of them in a hug one last time before lugging the two mentors from their seats also. Still wiping away her tears, Xanthe bids goodbye to her tributes for the final time and retires to her bedroom.

Deciding it was time for them to do the same, Brutus wraps his arms around Clio, bringing her in for a hug, leaving Enobaria to do the same with Cato. The two then switch places, with Enobaria placing her head on top of Clio's.

"Remember our deal. Promise me you'll prioritise him."

"You keep her alive no matter what, okay?"

Both Clio and Cato quietly beg their mentors to follow through with their agreements, not realising that the other had made an opposing deal.

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

Then, the sound of Clio's shoes clicking against the marble floor is the only sound that can be heard throughout the suite as the two walk towards one of their bedrooms. The clicking comes to a halt as they shut the door behind him and not even seconds later, Clio finds herself trapped between the cold wall and Cato's warm body as he brings his strong hand up to hold her chin and lets his lips mould their way against hers.

"You look so fucking gorgeous," he whispers as he pulls back to admire the sight in front of him before tilting her head up towards him and kisses her again, feverish and tongue pressing into her teeth and inside her mouth. She tastes of cinnamon, a self-reward after a gruelling evening of interviews and a last proper meal before a long period of hunger. Clio can feel his hand slide down from her chin as it grasps the side of her neck, his thumb pressing into the column of her throat and tilting her head back, causing it to fall against the wall. A hoarse groan escapes her lips into the kiss when she feels his fingers close slightly and his grip tighten. Bringing her palm to rest on the forearm of the hand that currently grips her throat, the lack of air getting to her lungs because of both the pressure and of their kiss and causes her to push on his arm slightly and then pull back.

His hands move down, running over her waist before settling in the space behind her knee as he grabs her leg and wraps it around his hips, forcing her onto her toes as he easily gains control and pushes her back flush against the wall with his body. The way his hands wrap around her is a familiar feeling, and his lips attach to her neck, harsh and impatient as his fingers dig into the exposed skin of her thigh. The way his tongue travels down the skin of her throat is burning hot, breath tickling the flesh with every movement. As he hungrily leaves a trail of searing heat against her throat, eventually nipping at the long scar on her collarbone, she shoves the black suit jacket off his shoulders and waits for the indistinct thud of the clothing hitting the floor before starting on the buttons of his shirt.

"Fuck" he pants, his breath heavy as his fingers glide up her thigh and under the fabric of her dress, one hand digging roughly into her ass to hoist her further up the wall. Clio lets out a surprised yelp when he flicks two long, unrelenting fingers against her clothed clit.

"You're driving me insane," he says, as her fingers pull on his shirt, ripping half of the buttons off in a frenzy and pushing it off his shoulders. His words hardly register in her brain, leg barely supporting her weight, body shuddering against the wall as he slides her underwear to the side and pushes two fingers inside.

"Fuck," Clio groans, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as she feels his digits pumping in and our of her. Cato bites his bottom lip as he looks down at his own fingers disappears inside of her before bringing his eyes upwards to watch intently at the way her face contorts in pleasure while he curls his fingers upward. Clio's breath hitches in the back of her throat as he uses his thumb to apply pressure on her clit and she tries to stifle her moans.

Dropping to his knees, his gaze never leaves her face as he moves her leg from around his waist to drape it over his shoulder. Her desperate mewl from his hot breath teasing her has him shivering in excitement as his teeth graze her skin, littering her inner thighs with marks. Clio gasps loudly when she feels his tongue finally, finally touch her, drawing slow, wide circles on her clit before speeding up his movements when she is almost rendered helpless as she grinds her hips into her face. Her fingers grip his hair, tangling themselves in his blonde strands as her eyes clamp shut at the pleasure coursing through her veins.

Cato wraps his lips around her clit, sucking and nipping at her sensitive nerve, as he re-inserts two of his long fingers into her. The combination of his mouth, and his fingers curling has her panting and gasping, throwing her head back against the wall, mouth hanging open. If he could, he'd keep her here forever, making her cry out for him, under his mercy, teasing her as he saw fit.

"Please..." Clio draws out, her voice trailing off with a gasp.

Normally, he would stop when he knew she was close as a way to tease her, to mock her, to rile her up. With the way her voice is breaking, the way her fingers are tightening in his hair, and the way her legs are shaking, he can tell that it's near unbearable for her, could tell that she was close. He wasn't about to tease her this time, once he heard another desperate whine leave the back of her throat, he was determined to make her cum. Quickly, too. With the addition of a third finger, Clio squirms against the wall, a string of "oh fuck's" and "please's" passing her lips; truly begging him now.

"Oh god, please" Her pleas cause him to let out a deep moan against her, sending vibrations through her nerves and having her hips bucking in response again. Pressing his other hand into the tender skin of her inner thigh, his nails digging into the already bruising areas from her earlier ministrations. Looking up at her once more, the sight of his blue eyes meeting hers is almost as pleasurable as the act itself, pupils dilated and icy blue eyes storming with desire; and with both his hands and mouth occupied it only takes a particularly harsh suck for her orgasm to hit. Gasping, her legs quiver as his hands tug harshly on his hair, as he wrings every last wave of pleasure out of her. Once he's satisfied, he ignores her whine from the loss of contact as he rises to his six-foot tall stature.

Not one to usually relinquish control, Cato's breath catches in his throat when he is shoved backwards and on to the bed, his body bouncing a little on landing as he stares up at her in surprise. He does actually enjoy when she is in control like this and he knows to feel ready for whatever might come his way, knowing that ignoring or refusing her comments would make the situation more fun. Compliant with her motion to take control, lifting his hips slowly he slides his dress pants off as slowly as possible to wind her up and to increase her hunger for him. She drinks in the sight of him, watching him lustfully for what she believes is the last time before crossing the distance between the two of them and leaning down to place a forceful, greedy kiss upon his lips, and moves to straddle his body. He can feel the silken fabric of her gown, and her smooth legs press into his side as she climbs on top of her. Cato reaches his hands up to place them on her hips but Clio quickly slaps them away and pins them down against the mattress, lowly warning him to keep them beside him. He moans in disapproval but it soon changes to one of pleasure when Clio attaches her lips to his neck, moving slowly down to his collarbone. Falling into a distraction by her own lust, she begins to grind her hips against his which gives Cato the opportunity to return his hands to her hips. Removing her mouth from his chest momentarily, she runs her fingers down his torso to relocate his hands back to the mattress. "I can tell what you're doing."

"Don't tease me, angel," he rasps in a soft whisper.

Clio's laughter calls through the room, "I'm just taking my time with you."

Impatient, he huffs. "Could you be any slower?"

Teasingly, she tuts as she wraps her hand around him, and the unexpected shift in pace makes him jump. She watches his face contort with every stroke she makes as her thumb swipes across the head; mouth hanging open and mouth closed.

"What's wrong?" she teases him, "Haven't we got all night?"

He begins to protest as her tongue swirls around the head of his cock, "I had to wait hours seeing you in that dress, I can't wait any longer." As she lowers her head to take him in deeply, Cato laces his hands through her hair and tugs her away from him. Sitting up, he kisses her deeply once more while his hand gently teases down her jawline to rest around her throat, while the other reaches around to unzip the back of the dress before lifting her hips off of him to peel the skin tight dress down off her shoulder and off of her body.

Clio smirks into the kiss before she pulls away and pushes his chest to have him lay underneath her again, "I thought you liked this dress?"

"Oh I do."

Wrapping her hand around him once again, she lowers herself onto him, pausing for a moment to adjust before beginning to rock her hips back and forth. Hands pressed against his chest for leverage, gaze locked on his ice blue eyes. With the way his hand tightens slightly around her throat, she could tell that he wanted more speed, but she wasn't going to give in to his demands, slowing her hips to an excruciating sway. Hand remaining tight around her throat, his other hand grabs ahold of her hips, quickly slamming up into her before rolling the two of them over until he was now on top. "You've had long enough in charge."

Writhing underneath him at the increase in pace, his hand further tightens around her throat only spurred on by her sharp nails raking across the skin of his back and the underside of his bicep. She notices a small stream of blood flow from a mark on his bicep, but before she can begin to feel guilty about hurting him, his lips connect with hers again. She couldn't but moan into the kiss when he removes his hand from her throat to place one of her legs on top of his shoulder to change the angle of his hips ever so slightly, causing her to hold on to him for dear life, digging her nails further into the muscles of his back as she could feel her breath shallowing. Pulling away to meet her eyes, he can tell that she was close to her high, but knows that she would need a little more encouragement. Head falling against her shoulder at the stinging sensation of her nails, she felt him moan against her skin, he traces his hand down her body to rub small circles on her clit in time with his thrusts. His name fell from her lips as if it was her personal mantra and his breaths became sharp and unsteady as the added pressure of her nails on his back was all he needed to reach his climax in time with hers. Cato's forehead meets hers and he presses one last needy kiss to her lips before letting out a sigh and pulling out of her.

"Who's in control now, huh?" he whispers, leaning over to cup her jaw and kiss her slowly before sinking in the sheets beside her.

"You love it." Clio laughs, shaking her head lightly.

"Christ, you're gonna be the death of me" he says teasingly, before he presses a tender kiss to her forehead; gentle and full of affection. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

[dove-does-tarot]

Ooh thanks! (Had to resend since I was gonna help with a wiki link but tumblr said nah not allowed)

A romantic reading like what you did is fine :) His name is Wanderer aka man of Many Names ™️ he was one of my favorites since the launch of the game. Very good and deep character, must protecc ⚔️

Looking forward to that Floyd fic 👀👀👀 he was my first favorite twin then that shifted, then back to Floyd, now I’m stuck between the two of them lol (“both, both is good” ™️)

I definitely don’t have a thing for intelligent or tragic gremlins pssss no of course not…..

🪼

Oof, I feel ya; I just love all of the fish mafia dearly, even though they are shady bastards. Currently, though Floyd is my fav since he was the only SSR that I have from them; awful Gacha luck. And for the Floyd fic it'll be on my writing blog; da-birb-writes-sometimes.

I am familiar with Wanderer *proceeds to sing Bohemian Rhapsody while shuffling /hj* Lemme see what I can do for ya, 🪼. And don't worry about links, I'm used to hunting down info.

Content Warning; spiders... again, touching on past trauma (Wanderer 100%, but also possibly you? You don't have to disclose that info btw)

Their Energy

Spider; this is more so a vibe than the actual card's meaning. I know of the lore, so the spider with its web and the strings attached feels correct given his past. He may also feel like he's trapped between what he knows and what remains to come to the surface. A creator.

What They Are In Need Of

Starfish; they need to realize what they want and put aside what others expect from them. They need positive friends and realize their inner beauty. They may feel empty when out of balance

The Vibe of the Relationship

Ten of Cups Reversed (Julnar the Sea Born); Letting go of dysfunctional family, leaving behind a broken home, of instability, conflict and neglect. I know this fits Wanderer TOO well, but this could also apply to you; again, take that with a grain of salt.

Strengths in the Relationship

Six of Swords Reversed (Danae and Perseus); Letting go of feeling trapped, of instability, abuse, and of unresolved issues. By leaving the past behind, a calm and promising future lies ahead. This could relate to Ten of Cups (R).

Needs Working On

Three of Cups Reversed (Apsara); Letting go of overindulgence, disintegrating bonds, gossip and isolation. Once those are overcome, the "good time" as the card puts it, will come.

Again, I see a lot of healing for both of you. It may be rocky at times, but once you realize what the past traumas are, the future would be bright. Please take him to therapy, please.

Unrelated, but I'm curious if you're a water sign or have any major water sign placements? Since the Suit of Cups and water-fixed cards have shown up a lot in your readings. It could just be me overthinking it though... Pisces? [bad at guessing people's signs]

Cards Under Cut cuz apparently spiders like you (sorry for the camera quality)

[twisted-tales-told]

Alright I’m here for Part Two which is: Jegulus fics that have either already Hurt Me To My Bones, or I am predicting will Hurt Me To My Bones. 

Choices by Messermoon If you’re reading this, and its not in the top five things in life thats causing you pain, then I simply do not understand how your brain works. In other words, I’m dying out here guys. I found it at 14 chapters long. The prank had just happened, I caught up in one night and ONLY THEN did I see the canon compliant tag aka. I didn’t stand a chance. The meer existence of Lupercal fundamentally changed me as a human being, and Mia somehow became my favourite fictional character I’ve ever had the honour of reading about. Reading this makes me so thankful I learned how to bookbind last year, because making my pretty typesets is How I’m Coping. I also just owe a huge debt of gratitude to this fic because it reminded me why I love writing and gave me the courage to apply to creative writing school. I found out last week I got in.

Don't worry, darlin' by achylss has already hurt me, and will hurt me more. I’ve accepted my fate. I don’t know how to describe it but the line “One couldn't yield such a storm without peculiar strength and bravery.” reframed my entire perspective on how I treat myself when I’m struggling with my mental health. This fic has some content warnings so make sure you check those but if you’re in a good place I really recommend. I could not describe what it’s about if I tried, I won’t do it justice. 

Drugs and surgical scrubs by anauro Believe it or not it hasn’t actually hurt me yet but boy do I think it’s going to. Basically The Marauders are drug addicts, Regulus is an anesthesiologist, and after an *Altercation* leaves James with a stab wound Sirius guilts Regulus into looking after him. It is a very realistic portrayal of drug addiction. What made me fall in love with this fic was, first of all getting to read all the cool medical terms and what they mean, and secondly Marlene Mckinnon being Regulus’ queer confidant and surrogate big sister. Also Andromeda and Ted. Just them both being there made me so happy. 

Flowers by gwenstacylvr Okay Listen. Theres a story as to why this one is on my list and I have not known peace since I read it. (content warning: Regulus dies via suicide attempt in this fic, and it’s about grief, moving on etc. James does fall in love with Lily, but Holy Fuck That Hurt More Somehow?)  I was minding my business on tiktok when the user pr0ngslover (I’m 99 percent sure that was the username) had posted an edit. It was to the Sufjan steven’s song Fourth of July. So basically I was already in pain, and then I had the audacity to ask if it was based off a fic. And they responding, yes, Flowers by gwenstacylvr. I went. I read The Fic. It has been almost five goddamn months and I have not mentally moved past it. I cry when I eat a kit-kat, I cry when I find the edit on my camera-roll. I could not even tell you why. I’m a bit of a stickler for structure, grammar, all that stuff when I read literally anything--honestly it’s just habit at this point. But when I tell you I don’t give a shit that the storytelling is inconsistent, or that the grammar isn’t the best in the world, I mean it, cuz it still managed to destroy me anyhow and I gotta give it that. 

Fade Into You by euphorial_docx Again, it hasn’t hurt me yet...but I think it’s gonna, and I’m willing to bet on that. The bittersweet ending tag is taunting me. I love Pandora in this So Much and I will somehow headcanon pandalily in it. I don’t care what actually happens, I will project those two being in love with every fic I read where they’re present. 

I See Stars and Painted Lies By Iwantedausername There are only three chapters in this fic so far, and it does not tag whether its canon death of James or not and that freaks me out man. Like Regulus survives the cave, but my brain will wormhole a way into worrying its gonna be canonical death ending. Basically James & Regulus were sort of together at Hogwarts but the fic really starts after he escapes the cave with the Hocrux. I love James’ characterization so far, Remus is really great too. Even if it’s not canon compliant I’ve already felt hurt at multiple points. Also, as Mary MacDonalds #1 fan, they better get her the hell out of jail real soon she deserves better. 

Anyways there’s my painful Jegulus fanfic list if you were looking to get your heart broken. 

[cheesecakeblessings]

Alright, kiddos, strap in, because you're gonna learn today.

I think we all noticed that recently there have been an influx of new people in many different fandoms, but right now I'm gonna be talking about DSMP/MCYT specifically (although it applies to everyone).

New people also mean so many new budding fic writers and is there a better place to post them than ao3? Each day we get hundreds of new works - long, short, hurt/comfort, fluff, some really heavy stuff. And it's all wonderful! I love seeing it!

But, unfortunately, I've noticed some problems. Well, one main problem.

A lot of those new people don't seem to know what exactly ao3 tags mean and are used for. I've seen fics with no tags and raitings, fics where the author rambles in the tags, fics not tagged properly...

So, this is a quick crash course on how to tag.

First, the ship tags. On ao3 there are two main options - / or & - and they mean very different things. / is used for romantic relationships and romantic relationships only. You want to find a dnf fic on ao3? Just search Dream/GeorgeNotFound. Searching dreamnotfound might yield some results, but not as many as a regular relationship tag.

On the other hand, & is a more general tag, used mainly for platonic relationships. That found family you're looking for between two specific characters? That's gonna be a &.

Don't tag platonic relationships as /. And also, don't tag romantic relationships as just &, because people either won't find them or will stumble upon something that shouldn't be in the platonic tag.

Second, tags are used for filtering the contents of the fics. They should be short and on point. Put at least one that will tell the reader what to expect. I know the need to talk about your work, it's your brain baby, but that's what the notes at the beggining and end of the fics are.

Third, I know you may have noticed tags labelled as raitings, warnings and categories. I would actually consider them more important than the regular tags, especially warnings, and recommend using them. Some people might be uncomfortable or just plain not feeling in the mood for certain types of content and those tags are helpful to get rid of that stuff quickly.

I don't think I need to explain most of them. Just know that Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings is not the same as No Archive Warnings Apply. Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings means that multiple warnings might apply to your fic and that the reader should carefully look through the tags for any content they don't want to see.

This post was written to help new people to understand the way ao3 works and I might add onto it later as I notice more. I would hate to see great fics get lost because of bad tagging. Actually, just today I saw three different SBI fics tagged with / and only realized they were supposed to be platonic when reading the tags.

This was a quick and rushed PSA and I hope people will find it helpful. Anyways, thank you for reading.

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (14)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: The lyrics of the song your eyes tell by BTS used in this chapter is NOT translated by me. It is composed/covered by  genuis english  translation and Jess A. Please consider listening to their music here. They’re a great singer! A line from Agust D’s 140503 at Dawn is also used in this update.

Warnings: blood, physical violence

***This is a super short chapter. JJK is just reflecting hehe

SERIES: CHAPTER 13 | FINAL CHAPTER

The blood in Jeongguk's lower lip was mocking him—telling him that once again, he fucked up.

Or at least this was what Park Jimin thought.

"So that's it, huh?" Your best friend rarely resort to violence—wait. This was wrong. Violence was never an option for Jimin, but he was making an exception tonight.

"You're just going to give up on her?" The older boy grabbed the collar of your soulmate's shirt.

Jimin was so mad he swore he could beat Jeongguk to a pulp.

How could Jeongguk be this dumb?

Jimin heard your conversation with your soulmate just a few breaths ago. He didn't plan to eavesdrop, it just happened.

Yoongi was the first one to know what happened to you. He was adamant to let you leave a while ago. He just had this weird feeling in his stomach that told him to check up on you.

His nightmare became a reality when he saw Jimin and Taehyung making out on the couch. You weren't with them and it only meant one thing: you left alone.

Yoongi was so mad at himself. He should have called you an uber or he should have driven you to wherever the hell you wanted to go.

This was partly his fault that's why he couldn't help but shudder in fear and regret when one of his staffs told him about what happened to you.

Police officers said you were under the influence of alcohol. Yoongi already knew this, but Taehyung and Jimin were still shocked.

They had no idea you left.

It actually took the three of them a long time to know what had happened to you. By the time they reached the hospital, they were already too late.

Jeongguk managed to make you cry over and over again.

What an asshole.

What kind of soulmate was Jeongguk? Were you really meant to be together? These questions were running inside your best friend's head. It had been answered when Jeongguk suddenly pushed Jimin away.

He wiped the blood in his bottom lip, smirking at his hyung.

"Who said I'm giving up on her?"

Jimin's jaw dropped. Jeongguk’s voice is full of confidence and determination.

"Y-You’re not?"

"No." Your soulmate said firmly. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when he was sure about what he felt for you, not when you needed him the most, and definitely not when you were giving up on him.

No. He should fight when you couldn't.

"Good," your best friend released a breath. He hated your soulmate for hurting you, but Jimin also knew that you loved Jeongguk—even if you told him otherwise.

This was the sad thing about the existence of soulmate that Jimin despised. The encouraging reminders like 'You should learn to love yourself,' and 'you don't need your soulmate to be happy,' would not apply.

It helped, yes. But your world was different. It would always feel like a part of you was missing when your soulmate didn’t love you back.

Humans were made to love and to feel loved. This reminded Jimin of the neon signage that's plastered on Genius Lab: I'm the island in this vast ocean, don't abandon me. This was Min Yoongi's idea. The bar owner always told him and everyone (really) that people were like island—they were able to provide—to extend their hands in this cold world.

They should never be abandoned because like any other things, they needed to be taken care of too.

"But what are you planning to do?" Jimin creased his forehead.

Jeongguk didn't even bat an eyelash when you told him to let you go. This was what annoyed Jimin. How could your soulmate be so silent about this? Why did he simply leave when you told him to go?

In Jeongguk's defense, he just didn't want to upset you any longer. He was aware that his presence was stressing you out. You should rest, especially because there's possibility that you might need to undergo an eye surgery.

Jeongguk's heart clenched once again. You were blind and you thought it was because he hated you.

It’s not true and he would change your mind.

"Seriously, Guk?" Taehyung shook his head, scowling. "This is your and my fiancé’s idea?"

"Don't get mad at Jimin-hyung. It's my idea." Jeongguk corrected his best friend. "Your soulmate is just helping me."

It had been days since the accident and you were aware that Jeongguk had been by your side all this time, not really by your side, per se, but he was around. He was patiently waiting outside of your room in this hospital, begging Jimin and your other loved ones to tell him what he could to help.

Today was the only time he left the hospital, as in the same day of your eye surgery.

Jeongguk swore he's not running away this time though. He was actually going to let you know that he would be staying with you. Forever.

"I can't let you do this, Jeon. I'm gonna lose my job if you fuck this one up!" Taehyung groaned.

"Hyung, please. This is really important!" Jeongguk was nervous. He was running out of time. Your surgery was in a few minutes and here he was, invading the studio where Taehyung worked as a DJ.

"This is going to be aired on national radio, Guk. As in the whole South Korea!"

"I know!" Jeongguk's eyes were blown wide. "This is exactly why I want to do this, hyung. I want everyone to know how I feel!"

If you couldn’t see, then maybe you could understand Jeongguk’s feelings by listening. He was willing to explore other senses just to make you believe.

"Fucking sappy!" In the end, Taehyung had no choice but to let his best friend proclaim his love for you.

Jeongguk smiled as he tapped the microphone, softly calling your name.

"It's Jeongguk. I know you don't want to hear from me, but I have something to say." Jeongguk grimaced. He seriously sucked when it came to expressing his emotions through words. "This will be quick, I promise. I just hope Jiminie-hyung is actually helping me out."

"Of course he is!" Taehyung shouted somewhere. Jimin wouldn't dare to ruin this for you. His task was simple anyway. He only needed to make sure that you were listening to the radio a few moments before your eye surgery.

You were nervous. Jimin wanted to help you calm down by making sure that you knew Jeongguk was not going to leave you alone in the cold.

"Anyway I know that I...well...I," your soulmate blushed. How should he describe himself? Was there a word that could emphasize his stupidity?

"I am an idiot." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek. This was the only adjective he could think of. "I am the idiot who hurt you and I know, I know...I don’t deserve your forgiveness because of how selfish I was—I mean, am. I still am."

He chuckled nervously. His heart was hammering.

"Call me selfish or whatever you want. I'm sure I deserve it anyway, but yeah...I'll be selfish again if this is the only way to let you know what I really feel about you."

Jeongguk cleared his throat as the beat of the music started to play.

"Why are my eyes filled with tears?” He sang.

This was a song composed by him. Of course he couldn't do this alone. Namjoon was the one who produced the beat of this song. He also helped his brother-in-law to write the lines. Ji-eun's father was a lyrical genius.

"Hey, stay by my side and laugh.” Jeongguk knew he was asking for too much. It was impossible to simply smile and stay with him—not after the hell he had put you through.

"A future without you is a world without color, filled with monochrome coldness." But this was the exact representation of what would happen if you weren't in his life.

Life would literally be black and white. Dull. Jeongguk knew how essential colors were in his life, yet if he was forced to choose between the hues and you, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

"Even the darkness we see is so beautiful. Please believe me."

Darkness was the absence of light. You were Jeongguk’s light. His life would be dark if you were not around.

He also knew you were going through the darkest time of your life, so he wanted this moment to still be beautiful.

He wanted you to believe that every hardship would pay off. You just had to believe.

"Looking only directly at you, so you don't go away"

Jeongguk wrote this line many months ago. It wasn't even meant to be lyrics to a song. These were simply the words he incorporated in his art.

Jeongguk was a soft person. He usually put cheesy captions in his paintings and drawings—the things he usually couldn’t verbalize.

"Whatever lies in the way of you and me. I'll just keep looking at the future of you and I."

It didn't matter that you lost hope. Jeongguk was sure he would make you believe in love again.

"Shadows of the past keep chasing me everywhere I go, and they try to keep ahold of me and till this day they follow me."

He would try to let go of his hurtful past. Those things didn't matter because he could always make good memories with you.

"Even though it seems to be the start of the end I'll call you and shout out your name."

He would be the hope in your relationship. This might be the end for you; however, Jeongguk was just starting.

Starting to accept the soulmate bond.

"I'll become your eyes to the world and for whatever we may face."

Starting to show you how much you meant to him.

He was willing to become your eyes if you didn't recover from this instantly. He would guide you until you could see again.

"One day all of this, this sadness that we share will bring us together."

The sadness would be over soon. You would see again;

Because Jeon Jeongguk was sure. He loved you and...

"Your eyes will tell."

[muffindaddystyles]

Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

[mightyavngrs]

don't do that again | poe dameron x reader

summary: a broken promise and a mission gone wrong

warnings: mentions of a panic attack (stay safe <3)

a/n: hope you guys had happy holidays! here's a belated christmas gift :)

masterlist | taglist

You laid silently in your bed, heavy eyes trained on the alarm clock that stood in your nightstand. 1:45, 2:36, 3:18... the time passed and you couldn't help the voice inside your head telling you that every hour gone by the probability of Poe coming back safe and sound lowered.

He was supposed to come back a week ago. Maker, you knew it. You knew this mission wasn't going to go well.

Your legs carried you through the resistance base as you furiously made your way to Poe's quarters. It was late and most people had already retired to their rooms but the few members in the hallways threw confused looks your way. As you got to Poe's room, closed fist ready to bang on his door, the thing opened before you revealing a very excited Poe Dameron whose smile disappeared the second his eyes met yours. You caught his wrist, pushing him back inside the room with you before closing the door.

"Y/n, what happened-"

"Tell me you didn't take that mission." you demanded, your raised voice unrecognizable to your own ears.

"Wait, what? This is the most important mission of my career i thought you'd be happy i-"

"Poe this is the most dangerous mission anyone in the resistance has been assigned in years."

"You think i can't do it? Is that what this is about?" he questioned in shock, failing to keep the disappointed look that formed in his face.

"No! Maker, Poe, you're one of the most skilled people this rebellion has seen but this mission could just be an ambush for all we know! I mean collecting intell in heavy-guarded enemy territory from someone the resistance hasn't even heard about? Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

"Yes, y/n, i do. You know i think you're forgetting i've been a part of this rebellion for far longer than you have." he snapped, voice dangerously low and your eyes couldn't help but widen at the hostility in his words.

"Why are you being so aggressive? I'm just worried about you." you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears already forming in your eyes. Your anger for his stubbornness now fully replaced by concern. "I know this is important to you and you know i wouldn't be saying this if i didn't actually mean it but i have a bad feeling about this mission, Poe. Please stay. Just this once." you practically begged, hand moving to cup his cheek before he harshly brushed it away.

"I think you need to go, y/n."

And with those words you were out the door and on your way back to your room. Although hurt, you weren't too worried about Poe's outburst. You guys had promised each other long ago never to leave for a mission without saying goodbye, even if you were mad at each other. He wouldn't break that promise. "Just needs to cool off." you thought to yourself before allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

When you woke up the next day it took you a second to process what had happened the night before, but once you did panic filled your senses. You quickly got out of bed, clumsily getting ready before starting to make your way to the hangar, your eyes frantically searching for any sign of Poe or the falcon.

"Hey, y/n! What's wrong?" Rey's voice broke you from your thoughts as the jedi made her way towards you.

"Where's Poe?" the question left your mouth without hesitation and the look that formed on your friend's face told you all you needed to know.

"He left for his mission an hour ago."

"No. He wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye. We promised we wouldn't do that." you muttered feeling Rey's hand on your arm as she gave it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry, y/n."

After hours of staring at the alarm clock you sighed. "No way i'm gonna get any more sleep tonight." you thought to yourself, swinging your legs over the side of your bed after deciding a walk through the hangar would be a much better waste of your time. The hallways were deserted and if all the equipment didn't look so modern you would've thought you were walking through an abandoned resistance base.

Finally arriving to the hangar you started your walk through the area before your eyes landed on a beaten up millennium falcon. You violently shook your head, figuring the sight was just another trick pulled by your tired mind to torture you a bit more, but when the image of the spaceship didn't disappear you felt your blood run cold.

And then you were running through the hangar and towards the beloved ship, quickly punching in the code to open its door and before you could call out for your best friend's name you were met by an obnoxiously loud BB-8. Between the mess that were the noises produced by the small droid you were only able to pick out three words. Ambush. Poe. Shot.

You only had time to scream for BB-8 to go and get help before you were sprinting through the ship. Once you finally arrived to the cockpit your eyes landed on your best friend lying on the ground. You fell to your knees by the pilot's side, releasing a shaky breath once you confirmed he was, in fact, still breathing. Tears were starting to cloud your vision by now, and you felt your chest getting heavier by the second. You tried your hardest not to let the panic settle in. This was most definitely not the time for a panic attack; Poe was injured. He needed you. He needed you applying pressure to whatever blaster wound those bastards had given him but your body was frozen, you couldn't move. You could only stare at your best friend's beaten up face as a pool of blood grew around his body. You don't know how many minutes had passed when you felt someone pull you away from Poe and against their chest startling you in the process.

"Y/n, it's ok. We got him, he's gonna be okay." hands you could now recognize as Finn's were rubbing your arms in an attempt to ground you and bring you back from your state of panic. This wasn't your first panic attack but you usually had Poe there to help. Stars, Poe. He always knew what to do; how to help you, and now you couldn't even help him. You closed your eyes, trying to avoid the sight of his bloodied body being carried away by the medics and finally, after a couple of minutes, you gained enough strength to get on your feet (with Finn's help), and start your walk to the medbay.

7 hours. The longest, most painful 7 hours of your life and you were finally let inside the room. A sweet doctor had come to get you letting you know that, although stable, Poe was still unconscious but she hoped hearing your voice could help him. After a quick nod of reassurance from Finn and a hand squeeze from Rey, who'd met you at the medbay only a few minutes after you'd gotten there yourself, you stepped inside the room.

Poe laid on his hospital bed, face still dirty from the mission he'd barely made it out alive from and a thick bandage on his torso. You closed the door behind you, moving to take a sit next to the pilot. With a sigh you brought your hand up to his hair, brushing the brown curls away from his bloodied face.

"If only you had listened to me just this one time." you mumbled with a sad smile, your hand now moving to hold his. "I'm sorry i couldn't help you. I tried to move but seeing you like that i just- i thought i was going to lose you and i couldn't focus and i-" and then you were choking on your words and there were tears running down your cheeks again and you couldn't believe you were this pathetic because if you couldn't even help your dying best friend then what the hell were you good for. Then you felt a squeeze in your hand.

"Please don't cry." Poe's tired voice filled the room and you couldn't help but do the exact opposite, lifting your teary eyes to meet his own.

"Poe." you were barely able to mutter out before you were engulfing him in a hug. The pilot ignored the pain in his abdomen, focusing instead on how warm your embrace felt and on how happy he was to be back in your arms. His favourite place in the galaxy. "I thought i'd lost you." you confessed just above a whisper, and he hated that he could hear how mortified you were in your voice. He hated that the tears now staining his shirt were a result of his stubbornness and most of all he hated himself for breaking your spirit like this.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he muttered into your hair, trying his best to hold you as tightly as the pain would allow it. "You were worried and i snapped at you and then i left without saying goodbye and you were right about the whole thing. It was an ambush. Maker, y/n, i'm so sorry." he kept apologizing while rubbing your back, trying to bring you as much comfort as he possibly could. But you shook your head no before attempting to reassure him.

"You had no way of knowing. It wasn't your fault Poe just- don't do that again ok? Please don't ever leave without saying goodbye again..."

"I won't. I promise."

Poe had always found amusement in complaining about the resistance beds but now, as his bare back laid in fresh sheets for the first time in weeks, he couldn't help but sigh in content.

"Alright! You're all bandaged up." you exclaimed happily, putting away the gauze you'd been given before laying down next to the pilot. It'd been a few days since the incident and the doctors had released Poe from the medbay as long as he promised he'd change his bandage daily, job you'd gladly taken. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm happy i'm alive." he replied with a smile, staring at the ceiling above, but something about his tone of voice and the slight frown still visible in his features threw you off.

"You know you can tell me anything right?" you asked softly, bringing your hand up to caress his face when he flinched at your touch. "Look at me, Poe. Please." And then his eyes were on yours. You were used to hearing the fear in the pilot's voice, no matter how much he tried to hide it through his comlink you could always sense it but this... you'd never actually seen fear in his eyes like this. He was still terrified. Terrified that he wouldn't come back home one day. That he wouldn't come back to you.

"Hey, you'll always come back home." you assured him, and you sounded so confident in your statement, so faithful that, just for a moment, he allowed himself to believe your words. "You'll always come back home because you're the best pilot in the resistance, Poe Dameron. You'll always come back home because this rebellion needs you. I need you, ok?"

Poe swallowed the lump that'd formed in his throat. "Say that again." he pleaded and Stars you could never say no to him.

"I need you, Poe. I can't do this without you." Your fingers were tracing his skin in an attempt to get him out of his head. To get him to calm down so he would finally get some proper rest. But then he was scooting closer to you, resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you." the words left your mouth before you could stop them. You pulled away from the pilot, eyes widened in fear of the rejection you knew was to come but Poe's hands found your face and pulled it towards him closing the space between you. Your eyes fluttered shut and you ignored the tear you felt running down your face as they did so. It felt right. His lips on yours that is. And when you finally had to break the kiss for air he pulled you gently into his arms. "I love you. And i really can't do this without you either."

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a/n: i'm so excited to finally post this! i've had this idea for a year now but my first attempt at writing it went so bad i gave up haha i think i've gotten a lot better ever since so hopefully you guys enjoyed! don't forget to leave feedback if you'd like and treat people with kindness <3

taglist: @buckysbeloved @justanotherblonde23 @lbuprofiend @etherealsanakin

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

While Soap, France and the two hostages try to recover, Gary stands by for action. It's a waiting game before they make their next move. Can Gary's lungs handle the training?

Previous Chapter : Reunited

Chapter 6 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

A Walk to Remember

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 - Briefing Room

Gary was able to share his raccoon story, but he wasn't contented. He actually wanted a certain someone to listen to it. He wanted to see her smile. He knew their time together was short but he grew curious about the blonde girl. He felt concern, almost guilty that he triggered her massive headache. He wanted to apologize, but since then she's still unconscious. Guess he'll have to wait.

"The concern is that Augustus' squad had been forcibly and convincingly recruiting troops from a local border militia and informants reported that they have siezed their small village camp." The caterpillar-moustached general briefed, gaining murmurs from the rest of the squad.

"We'll be sending Alex tomorrow to negotiate with the squad and if he's successful. We could formally assist them and take back their base, crippling Augustus forces. Gathering intel on the village is a bonus." he added, making everyone else nod. Gary looked determined to help out, and for now all he could to is to train more and have faith in Alex's skills.

"That's odd." Ghost nudged from beside him.

"Yeah?" he replied quickly.

"I know that face… Something's bothering the bug. Come on. Spill." he whispered. Ghost may look cold and distant at one glance but he tries hard to show concern, especially for Roach, who has been there to absorb his problems ever since they met.

"It's the mission." Gary lied and he was not convincing at that.

"Sod off mate. I can tell you're lying. Is it the girl? It's always about the girl." he teased. Gary found himself speechless as he puffed his cheeks.

"Yeah. We'll you're bothered about France too. And threatened about how close they are with Soap." he whispered, Ghost fell silent and stopped bugging him. Gary wanted to quickly apologize for hitting a nerve, but he turned his focus to Shepherd.

"That's about all of it for today. I want all available squad members at the training areas now. We're not going to let that same blunder happen again." he scolded as everyone silently left. Ghost walked behind Gary, his quiet demeanor was normal but somewhat odd.

"You think she's interested in him? They used to fight a lot." he muttered and Gary turned to him.

"Look mate, I have no idea what's going on around them. They just met, and I'm no love doctor but if you're really into her then take small steps. Get to know her, talk to her, those kind of things. Then you'll finally get the answer you're looking for." Roach advised and Ghost actually showed agreement by nodding as they continue to the training room.

Task Force 141 - Jogging Oval

THE NEXT DAY

It's the fourth time that Roach lost to Ghost on a one lap sprint. A sign that he still has a lot of lung endurance exercises to do and he's still a long way to go to master holding a sniper rifle. He looked down, hands on his knees and sweat dropped from his forehead as he panted heavily.

"Roach! You okay?" a familiar scottish voice called from nearby. He looked and saw Samantha, Maxine, France and Soap together early in the morning. Samantha was pushing Maxine's wheelchair while France pushed Soap's. It looked like he still can't get up properly yet and might not make it on the next mission. His eyes now turned to Maxine who was looking at Samantha, laughing at something. Her smile brought happiness to Roach's face and he felt like he could run another lap.

"I'm fine." Gary replied with a thumbs up, jogging toward them, taking France's spot.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Oh. Nowhere. The nurse said we could use a little sunshine." Soap replied and the rest of them nodded. Maxine turned to Gary and smiled.

"You. You helped me back there. Eased the pain from the sprain. What's your name?" she asked. Gary took the time to let her voice fill his mind.

"Gary." he replied.

"Thank you Gary." she smiled and turned back to Samantha, resuming their conversation. France quickly nudged him to which he winced in pain.

"Whatever you're thinking, it goes through me first. I'm her sister after all." she warned, Gary pretended to look confused but there was no use hiding to a woman. They could sense intentions a mile away. 

"Does she um… remember you?" Gary asked. France's face shifted from threatening to sad.

"Not really." She sighed. "But she will recover and recognize me someday." 

"What happened to his leg? Hey hey Is that Alex?! Samantha it's Alex! Heyyy Pretty boy! Over here!" Maxine excitedly called him. He was walking to the hangar with his backpack and gym bag, looking focused. Everyone else were confused as to how Maxine knew Alex and Gary started to feel odd about it.

"Hey… um… you." Alex greeted awkwardly, smiling at the group.

"Alex. This is Samantha over here. I remember you looking for him at the bar. You know, a childhood friend you want to reconnect with?" She excitedly winked as he looked at Samantha. Gary could sense a little something going on between the two.

"Max, I don't know no Alex from my childhood…" Samantha muttered and Maxine frowned. This wasn't the kind of reunion she expected. It was a shame that that was the last thing she could remember.

"Yeah. I think you may have mistaken me or something. But I did look for her, returned a pendant she dropped back then." Alex replied and ran back to the airstrip.

"I swear I remember him correctly. I know full well which memories hurt me." Maxine whispered to herself as Samantha rubbed her back.

"He does look familiar. But then again I saw him back then and mistook him as a stalker. I mean, look at those tattooes. Turns out he's just there to return my pendant. It's a huge coincidence he works here though. Like one in a million." she mused as they quietly watched him walk away.

Gary started pushing Soap and the rest followed. He was happy Maxine's all peppy and well, but he can't help but feel jealous about the way she reacted upon seeing Alex. He wished she'd do the same for him. But who was he for her? Nothing but a random stranger.

"Huh?" Maxine asked and Samantha just nodded, making her quiet and realize things. Soap looked at Roach and they just exchanged weird glances and shrugged. Mentally noting that they'll have to talk to Alex about this after the mission.

~

"So, any new news?" Ghost stood by Gary as he gulped down a bottle of water.

"Not really. Except from the fact that Maxine claims to know Alex and Samantha knows Alex. And also Maxine is Francine's sister?!" Gary exhaled leaving Ghost in a momentary confusion.

"Wai.wai wait.. For real?!" he asked. Gary downed another bottle and nodded.

"Yeah. When briefing told us Alex was somehow connected, he was actually all over the place. I want answers from him." 

"Yeah. So where is he?" 

"He's already on his way back to Germany. Let's hope he convinces a whole army to help us out." Gary wondered as Ghost nudged him back to the gym. 

"Let's train that lungs of yours again."

All Gary could do was groan in  frustration as he followed Ghost to the gym.

"Man, Nero's a mysterious guy huh. Did you know Alex helped catch the CIA Mole he's working with. The one that supplied him the serum that's behind all of this." Gary overheard two random soldiers at the gym discuss. He couldn't help but stop whatever he was doing and asked them for more details.

"They already publicized the report on the website. They're actually desperate for any Nero-like activity to report to them immediately." one of them informed, Gary turned to Ghost and they both nodded, quickly running to the Base's library.

"Here it is. Alex's report." Gary muttered as Ghost peeked beside him, they slowly scrolled across pages of information written by Alex himself. He didn't hide anything from them, except from thr fact that they're after her because she had memories of an IP Address. Then further through the report they concluded that they weren't successful in extracting it. Then at the end of the file was a footnote, regarding Samantha's state. It read:

Due to a special favor promised by Samantha's father, he has authorize to apply an MK Ultra procedure to her, whose main intention is to Alter her memories of the IP Address along with the events that happened prior to kidnapping.

"So that's why she didn't know Alex." Gary realized.

"Hence the responses earlier." Ghost added.

"Maxine wasn't mentioned in this footnote this means her memories weren't rewritten." Gary spleculated. Ghost scratched his head in confusion.

"This whole thing is nuts." Was all Ghost could say.

Task Force 141 - Quarters

2000H

"Same routine tommorow, okay?" Ghost grinned and it made Gary groan.

"Fine. My lungs are going to hate you for eternity, Simon." he complained and the trainer just chuckled.

"We didn't have the chance to talk to Soap today. He surely has a lot of new information about the two." 

"Nah. More like more information on France." Ghost retorted fake chuckling.

"If he's ever in the competition, I can judge that he's one step ahead." Gary remarked, attempting to tease Ghost who was already leaning away from him.

"Rest up, Bug. Another big day tomorrow." he muttered, almost angry.

"Yeah. Big day."

Next Chapter : Just Like Old Times

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[tuiccim]

Santi (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4430

Warnings: Fluff, flirt, 

Summary: The team leaves for a mission leaving you and Bucky alone at the tower. 

Santi Masterlist

After bidding the team goodbye the next morning you and Bucky head to the kitchen for breakfast.

"How was your first night in the new place?"

"Good. Slept okay. How'd you sleep?"

"I have a hard time getting to sleep any given day but once I did last night I was good."

In the kitchen you pull out a frozen breakfast burrito to heat and grab an apple and peanut butter.  Bucky fixes a huge bowl of cereal. 

"Why aren't you on the mission?" Bucky asks.

"You want the official answer or the truth?" You ask.

"The truth, always."

"Steve didn't want you to be alone so he asked me to stay."

"You were okay with that?"

"Well, you know, my 'particular skills are not needed for this mission'" You say imitating Steve.

"You don't mind being my babysitter?"

"Well, first, I'm not your babysitter. You're a big boy and can wipe your butt all by yourself. Second, I don't mind having some time to take it easy. It's usually hard to come by. And, lastly, the rest of the team has worked with you before. I like that it gives me the chance to get to know you. Not the file or news reports or rumors, but you as a person." Bucky seems taken aback by your answer. "You said you wanted the truth, always." You smile and Bucky seems to relax a bit.

"Thanks." He pauses for a minute but then smirks, "Wipe my own butt? You always had that mouth on ya?"

"All my life." You smile at him.

"Apple and peanut butter?" Bucky asks as he watches you eat.

"It's delicious!" You pick up a fresh slice, scoop some peanut butter onto it. Leaning over the table you hold it up for Bucky to take a bite. "Try it." He eyes you as he bites into the slice you are holding out to him.

"Okay. Weird but good "

You giggle at his expression and pop the other half into your mouth. 

"Are you always happy like this? You always seem to be on the verge of laughing." He asks suddenly.

"No. But, I don't know, I guess I've had the privilege of living my life unlike you and Steve. It's given me the time to work through things, figure out what makes me happy. I guess I've just lived long enough to learn contentment. And I think that's the basis of happiness."

"Lived long enough? You're what? 25? 30?"

Your face falls. "You haven't read my file."

"No."

"Have you read any of them?"

"No. It feels... invasive. Like I'm prying."

"It's not. It's just basics. Nothing overly personal. Abilities. Skills. Things you need to know in the field." You say emphatically. "For example, let's say we're on a mission. I get shot. Femoral artery hit. Bleeding out. What do you do?"

"Apply a tourniquet. Determine if I can complete the mission without you dying."

"Wrong. You just wasted time and possibly cost us the mission. You do nothing. I don't need medical attention." You take a deep breath, "I'm a Gifted. I have healing abilities. My body will force out the bullet and the wound will be repaired within 90 seconds. Blood supply restored in minutes. You and Steve heal fast but I put your abilities to shame there."

"Do you have any other abilities?"

"Additional strength, not your level but decent. Increased metabolism. Slow aging." You pause and look directly into his eyes, "And empathic telepathy."

"Like Wanda?"

"Wanda's a little different. She's more telepathic in the sense of reading minds and forcing waking dreams. My ability allows me, if I choose to, read people's emotions. And I can imbue people with emotions."

"Force them to feel things?"

"Ye...yes." You say hesitantly and then look him directly in the eyes, "Look, I have read your file and I know you've had your mind messed with enough. I will never, NEVER do that to you without your consent. Never."

You stare at each other for a moment before Bucky gives a slight nod.

"Is it helpful?"

"My specialty was deep cover. Being able to force trust, calm, caring. It makes getting to the inner circles easier. But after doing it for so long I had to get out. I was other people so much I started to lose myself. So, I told Fury that I wanted out. And then the world blew up and I ended up right back in the middle of it. I think I'm where I'm supposed to be now."

"How do you do it?"

"I just think it and I kinda push it to the other person. It's even easier when I'm touching them. If a person can somehow resist me mentally, once I touch them the resistance fades."

"What all can you make them feel?"

"Any emotion. Several if needed."

"Fear? Panic?"

"Yes."

"Pain?"

"Emotional pain, yes."

"Love?"

"Yes."

"Pleasure?"

You look at Bucky and raise an eyebrow at that one before replying in a low voice, "Yes."

"Have you done it to me?"

Voice strong again, "No. Never without your permission."

"Our teammates?"

"Only with their consent. Most people want to try it at least once."

"I have nightmares sometimes." Bucky says quietly.

"Yeah." Your tone softens.

"Could you calm me if that was happening?"

"I can, yes. I can also help you sleep. Do you want me to?"

Bucky stares into his bowl of cereal for a moment. When his eyes flicker up to you there is a tinge of red to them. He gives a slight nod. Reaching over you curl your hand around his wrist. "You're my teammate, my friend. I'll do anything I can to help you. Anything, okay?"

Bucky gives a small nod.

"Okay. Time to get some training in. Don't want Steve to think I'm slacking the first day without him." You start clearing your breakfast dishes.

"He's a real drill sergeant, huh?"

"Sometimes." 

"Wait, how old are you? I take it, older than 25."

You laugh, "That's sweet, Buck. I'm 62."

"So Sam was including you in his geriatric patients?"

"I think you have to be over 65 to be in that category. You and Steve are still the geezers of the place." You smirk at him. "I'll catch up with you later."

"I'll see you in the training room in a bit."

"Sounds good." You say as you walk to the elevator. Your heart hurts a little for Bucky knowing it had to be hard for him to ask for help. You hope he knows how strong he is, how brave to ask.

Before Bucky heads to the training room he detours to his room. Going to the desk he pulls out the stack of files Steve had given him and quickly located Santi's. Flipping it open he read:

Name: Bella Santi Delarosa

Last known address: Stark Tower

Date of Birth: November 1, 1957

Place of Birth: Mobile, Alabama

Status: Active

Title: Agent

Aliases: The Saint, Lucia Roman, Marie Frances, Eve Lastra, Elana Romano.

Document Citizenship: United States

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 140 lbs

Gender: Female

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Languages: English, Spanish, French, Italian, Russian, Portuguese, German.

Identifiable Markings: Triangle shaped birthmark right shoulder.

Family: Parents, Marco and Giulia Delarosa, deceased. Brother, Luca Delarosa, deceased.

Classification: Gifted

Abilities: Healing. Increased strength, stamina, reflexes, balance, and accuracy. Decreased aging. Empathic telepathy.

Skills: Multiple forms of Martial arts, acrobatics, expert marksmanship, espionage, infiltration, tactical coordination.

Bucky closes the file and heads to the training room. He spots Santi lifting weights and joins her. "So, 'The Saint', huh?"

You laugh, "You read my file?" 

"Yeah."

"That's what you took away from it? My code name?"

"Bella Santi Delarosa. Beautiful Saint of the Rose?"

"I was born on All Saints Day. My parents were Catholic." You shrug. "Any other questions?"

"I noticed the slight southern accent so Alabama made sense. Did you grow up there?"

"Until I was 13."

He wanted to ask what happened but knew it wasn't the right time to get into it. Deciding on a subject change, "Expert marksman?"

"You bet your ass."

"I was gonna bet lunch, actually."

"Knives or guns?"

"Knives."

"Yay!" You clap your hands as you move to the weapons cage to pull out knives. "Let's start with a target and we'll see if we need to get to trick shots to determine a winner."

Bucky glances at the body shaped training target at the end of the range, picks up a knife, and says "Right eye." The blade finds its mark with barely a glance. 

"Left eye." Hit.

"Left shoulder." Hit.

"Right shoulder." Hit

"Center mass." Hit.

"Same." Hit within millimeters of his knife.

"Nose." Hit.

"Mouth." Hit.

Getting an idea you move in a bit closer as he says "Forehead" and aims. As he's preparing to throw you reach on tiptoe and blow in his ear. The knife hits the target's groin. 

"I'm sorry. Did you say forehead or foreskin? If it was forehead, you were a little low on that one, weren't you?" You say still right next to Bucky's ear. Bucky turns eyes wide and swallows hard. You smile innocently up at him. 

"Wouldn't you call that cheating?" Bucky's voice is gravelly as he stared down at you.

"I'd call it winning. After all, out in the field there's all kinds of distractions. You have to get used to them." You say in mock innocence with a sweet smile.

Bucky tries to keep a straight face but a chuckle slips through. "Fine. I'll give you this one, Doll."

"I accept your defeat. There is this great diner right by the Museum of Natural History. They have phenomenal burgers and then we can go to the museum."

"I thought the bet was for lunch."

"Well, I figured I'd take you to the museum as a consolation prize. After all, I did cheat."

"I'm not taking you away from any plans?"

"Those were my plans. Now, you get to pay for lunch though."

Bucky laughed and his heart warmed a little at the thought that you had planned out the day with him. 

"Let's finish training and then we can get ready to head out." You say heading back to the weights.

Three hours later, you arrive at the diner and both order burgers and fries.

"Can I ask you something? Personal?" Bucky asks, glancing at you nervously.

"Anything. I'm kind of an open book. Which is unusual in this group."

"Yeah." Bucky says on a short laugh "What happened to your family?"

You knew it was coming at some point. "You want the short or long version?"

"Long if you're comfortable with telling it."

"Yeah." You pause to collect your thoughts. "You read my file so you know I grew up in Mobile, Alabama. My parents were Marco and Guilia and I had a brother named Luca. He was two years younger than me. My parents wanted more kids but it just didn't happen. We were a big Italian family. Steve always says he knows I'm Italian because I'm loud, always eating, and am touchy-feely."

Bucky laughs "Sounds right. You've never shied away from touching me."

"Sorry." You say feeling a slight blush creep up. "Please let me know if I make you uncomfortable. I just don't think about it much."

"No, I like it. Most people don't get very close to me. Keep going"

You smile blushing a little more but continue with the story. "My grandparents, my dad's parents, had a bakery. Most of the family worked there. I loved it. I had 8 aunts and uncles, a million cousins. Big, big family. Nice life, ya know. Lots of love and lots of drama. Then when I was thirteen, we were driving home from my cousin's birthday party and our car was hit by an 18-wheeler. My parents died on impact. Luca…" you pause and swallow hard willing the tears away. Clearing your throat you continued, "Luca died while they were trying to get us out of the car. He was such a sweet kid. Tender-hearted and quiet. I should have died too. My injuries were severe but that's when my mutation kicked in. Before they even got me out of the car my injuries healed. I didn't understand what happened. The doctor explained the mutant gene while I was in the hospital. I was so wracked with guilt that I lived. I didn't want to hear anything about it. Then my family… they were scared of me. I could feel it. They turned me over to the state. They didn't want anything to do with me. I was put in a group home and first chance I got I ran. Ran for nine years before SHIELD found me. They took me in. Taught me that my mutation was a calling not a curse." 

The food came at that point and you both dug in hungrily. Bucky looked up after a few bites. "What'd you do the nine years you were running?"

"Petty theft, lot of trespassing, might have been a grand theft auto somewhere in there, and then I joined the circus."

Bucky laughed, "Serious?"

"Yeah. I got a job helping set up and take down for a circus and when they left I kinda stowed away and they let me stay. I grew up dancing and doing gymnastics, so they taught me aerial silks and rope tricks. I ran errands, took care of the animals, cooked, and eventually even performed."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you, "You're pulling my leg."

"No. It was the 70s. I'll show you some pictures when we get back."

"What exactly are aerial silks?"

"They're sheets of silk you use to perform contortions while kinda flying in the air. I'll show you one day. I still love doing it." Bucky still looked skeptical. "What?" You finally ask when his face was still scrunched up.

"You really have pictures?"

"Yes. Tell me about when you and Steve were kids." Trying to get the subject off of you for a minute. 

You looked across at Bucky and saw a genuine smile on his face for a moment. He launched into a story and was more animated than you had seen before. It was endearing the way his face lit up talking about pre-serum Steve and their antics. He looked young and happy for a few minutes. 

The spell was broken when the waiter delivered the check. Staying true to the bet, Bucky paid and then you walked to the museum a block away. You had already purchased the tickets online and went right in. It was only 12:30 and it seemed to be a slow Tuesday as you were nearly alone in every exhibit. Bucky was enthralled. He went from display to display pointing out observations, wondering at the discoveries, and fascinated with the history. Sometimes even grabbing your hand to follow him. You were enthralled by him. It seemed like for a few hours the weight lifted from his shoulders. 

You stay at the museum until closing and then head back to the tower. Bucky talks nearly the entire way back about the museum exhibits. You thought your heart would burst that your outing made him so happy. 

Heading to the kitchen you look in the fridge. "What do you want for dinner?"

"You pick."

"If I pick, we're ordering pizza."

"Sounds good to me. What movie do you want to watch?"

"You're not sick of me yet?" You smile, amazed that he wanted to spend more time with you.

"No! I mean, you don't have to watch a movie with me. I just thought, ya know, pizza and a movie. You had, uh, mentioned the Star Trek movie yesterday, so I thought maybe..." He trailed off.

"Sounds good to me." You echoed his earlier sentiment and he smiled at you.

You sat on the couch eating pizza and watching the movie. After a while you ended up shifting to lean into Bucky and rest your head on his shoulder.

"You okay?" He asks.

"A little cold. I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" You say, moving away a little. He doesn't answer. Instead he grabs his hoodie and drapes it and his arm over you giving a little squeeze. You snuggle into him. It's a little harder to concentrate on the movie enveloped by his warmth and smell. 

After the movie was over, Bucky looked over at you, "Tired?"

"No, not really. You?"

"No."

"What'd you think of the movie?"

"It was interesting. I'd like to see the next one. Right now, I'm interested in seeing some pictures someone told me they have."

"Oh, yeah. Let's go to my room and I'll find them." You stand and stretch your arms over your head bowing your back. When you look at Bucky still sitting on the couch his eyes aren't quite on your face. You clear your throat ostensibly and his eyes snap up to yours while his cheeks gain a little pink tinge. "Come on, Buck." You turn away smiling to yourself. 

You get to your room and find the photo album with pictures from the Seventies in it. Placing it on the bed in front of both of you, you skip the first few pages and flip until you find pictures from the circus. They're starting to fade with age, but there you are riding an elephant, another showing you contorted in the silks, one where you are surrounded by clowns, cooking in a tent, and a few more showing your circus life. 

"You weren't kidding!"

"Of course not! It was actually a pretty fun time in my life. It was easier being accepted there. Once I got past being first of May."

"First of May?"

"Green. New. Takes awhile for circus folk to warm up but they're good to you once they do. They were like a big family." 

"Why'd you decide to leave?"

"SHIELD. They could help me learn to control my powers. And to be able to use them for something good."

"What are these other pictures?" Bucky asks as he flips back to the beginning of the album. 

"Oh!" You say in surprise. You reach for the album but Bucky is already looking at the pictures. Resignedly, you explain, "That was the last family portrait we took."

Bucky looks up at you sorrowfully, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He goes to hand you back the album.

"No, it's okay. It's been a long time since I looked at them." You point to the next photo. "That was my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary."

"Is that the entire town of Mobile?

"No, that's just my grandparents, their kids, and all my first cousins."

"First cousins?!?"

"Yeah, they were prolific. What can I say? My parents were picked on because they only had two of us."

"How old are you here?" He points to a picture of you holding a stuffed bunny.

"Three, I think." The next picture is you holding a baby Luca. You reach out and touch his little cherub cheeks but only feel the cold plastic covering the photo.

"You miss him?"

"Yeah. I guess you never stop. Losing a sibling sucks, ya know? They're the ones that are supposed to be with you through it all. You expect grandparents and parents to die, but your siblings are supposed to be there. Do you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I miss Rebecca."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, it's okay. But I probably should get some sleep."

"Yeah."

Bucky gets up and puts the album back on your shelf. "Night, Santi."

"Night, Bucky." You say in a small voice.

"Hey." He waits until you look up at him. "You okay?"

You force a smile, "Yeah, I'm good."

He hesitates, studying you. 

Finally, you give in to yourself. "Actually, can I have a hug?"

"Absolutely!" He walks over to you taking your hand and pulling you up before wrapping his arms around you. You put your arms around his waist and your head on his shoulder. After a minute you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead. "Sweet dreams, Doll."

"You, too." You say as you reluctantly let go. You change into a sleepshirt and get ready for bed. Knowing sleep won't come for a while you pick up a book.

A couple of hours later you feel your stomach twist in knots and a loud grunt issues through the wall followed by "NO!" Getting up quickly you knock on Bucky's door, "Bucky, are you okay?" You listen for a second but only hear another grunt. You knock again, "Bucky?" You say a little louder. 

"Стоп!" Hearing the Russian word from Bucky made your decision. You turn the knob and walk in. Bucky is thrashing a bit on the bed. His right hand is clenched around the sheets.

"Bucky, wake up. Hey. Come on, Buck." You put a knee on the bed and lean over to shake Bucky. The moment you touch his shoulder he sits up. The knife in his left hand lands with a thunk in your side. You hiss at the pain but stay still. "Buck. Bucky, hey." His eyes are far away and you know he hasn't come out of it yet. You put your right hand over his hand gripping the knife and your left on his shoulder suffusing calm into him. "Buck, I'm calming you. You said it was okay. Look at me, darlin'. Hey, hey." You see his eyes begin to focus. Finally, he looks at you. "Good. Hey, love, I need you to let go, okay?" You gently nudge his left hand which is still firmly holding the knife in you. You see him glance down and panic blanches his face. Suffusing calm again you take your left hand and touch his face drawing his attention to yours. "I'm okay. I just need you to let go. Bucky, talk to me."

"I'm so sorry!" Comes out in a panicked whisper as he lets go. 

"Bucky, I'm fine. Healing ability, remember?" You gather the ends of your shirt and brace to pull out the knife. "Mmmm...had to be a serrated one, huh?" You press the shirt to the wound to staunch the blood flow and look at Bucky. He looks shattered. "Bucky, everything's okay."

"I stabbed you." He whispers.

"Better me than anyone else." You give a humorless little laugh. You wipe the knife on part of your shirt and set it down on the nightstand. 

"I stabbed you."

"90 seconds, Bucky. 90 seconds and I'll be healed. No harm, no foul."

"I stabbed you and you're laughing." He looks at you incredulously. 

"What's a little stab wound between friends?" You smile but he still looks lost. "Bucky, another empathic part is I can let you feel how I'm feeling. Can I show you?"

He nods and you put a hand on his. "What do you feel?"

He looks in your eyes finally, "Calm. Caring. Worry for me."

"Exactly. I'm fine. Now, are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You pull him into a hug keeping your bloody side away from him. He puts his right arm around you and runs his left hand up your arm to your neck. Pulling away he looks into your eyes, glances down to your lips, and then back with an almost questioning look. It doesn't take empathic ability to know what he's feeling and your heart twists a little. You raise up a bit and kiss his forehead like he did for you earlier that night.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up. Can I borrow a shirt?" You stand up and that's when Bucky notices you had bunched your shirt up to stem the wound exposing your legs and a pair of peach colored panties. 

Tearing his eyes away he stands up quickly and pulls open a drawer. "Yeah, here, Doll." 

You look in the drawer and pull out a black ribbed tank from the top. "This will work." You say as you head into his bathroom. 

Bucky watches you walk away thinking with the peach colored underwear it almost looked like you weren't wearing anything down below. He shook the thought away. Nice, Buck, you stab her and then ogle her, he thinks to himself. 

You take off the shirt you are wearing and grab a cloth to clean off the blood. After washing your hands you slip on the tank. It comes down just past your butt and almost looks like a dress on you. A very short dress. Staring at yourself in the mirror for a second you can't deny the feelings developing in you. Bucky is...you can't even describe it. Beautiful inside and out. But too often your empathic abilities had interfered with real feelings. You had wanted to kiss him in that moment but the emotional charge was too much. What if that's all it was? The heat of the moment? It was too soon. You'd known him for less than 48 hours. Sighing, you shake off your thoughts and walk back out. Bucky eyes you from where he is sitting on the bed. 

"You okay?" He asks. 

"Yes. See? No harm, no foul." You lift the tank up to show him. 

He raises his left arm and touches your side. The cool touch from his metal hand breaks your skin into goosebumps. You cover his hands with yours and for a moment get lost in his eyes when he looks up at you. 

Breaking eye contact you pull the shirt back down, saying softly "It's late. You should go back to sleep." 

"I don't think I can." He says.

You sit next to him on the bed. "Lay down. Get comfortable. I'll help you."

He lays on his side and hugs his pillow. Running your hands through his hair, you suffuse calm and see the tension slip away a bit. Giving him a minute before suffusing lethargy, you watch as his muscles start to relax. Finally, you suffuse a sleepy feeling. You can't force sleep but have found that when these three feelings combine they make a fairly good sleep cocktail. Bucky's form slowly relaxes and you continue to run your hands through his hair suffusing the sleepy feeling until his breathing evens out. You retrieve your ruined shirt and bloody cloth from the bathroom and the knife from the nightstand. You don't want him to have any reminders when he wakes. Switching off his lamp, you reluctantly head to your own bed. 

Part 3