#OMG I seriously had such a blast writing this

[oozeyboozey-archive]

HC + home.

SEND ME HC + A WORD AND I'LL WRITE A HC FOR IT.

word : home. ▬ @saralans

okay , so i'm gonna make this post about her relationship with the concept of home . . . because she has lots of different homes depending on the verse ( main verse , and spn , and zombie for example all have different homes she's living in for example ) and those are their own lore posts . . so for this post we will be talking about the journey anya has taken with the word and personal meaning of home. anya was raised for the bulk of her childhood in a lab , and she wasn't taught about the name home until she started doing missions where she needed to perform as a normal child in verses that call for that , but it's important to understand that for most of anya's childhood . . she didn't know what home meant. she was kept in the lab when she wasn't being trained or on missions. and that was it. it isn't until anya gets out of the program and defects ( usually having to do with bucky ) before she starts to learn what home means. and it's A LONG PROCESS. she runs from home a lot at first , because she doesn't understand that it's important for her to stay with her family , and takes the new found freedom with a bit of gusto until she's dialed back. there's a bit of resentment at first about pulling back , but ultimately she comes around. when it comes to a physical home . . . staying put is hard for her , because with HYDRA on their tail for so long . . planting roots almost seems foolish. like she'll lose it if she tries to invest too much in making something a home. it's normally through her family . . and ultimately becoming a mother that helps her really learn was home means , and by then it's something she'll fight fiercely about.

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

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It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them || Part 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2

Pairings: Twilight, Wild, & Wind x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

There had been a time when Twilight hated dungeons for how often they popped up during his adventures. Between the brain teasers and terribly inconvenient designs (seriously who needs so many rooms or levels?), he would groan aloud every time someone warned him about a problem coming from deep within some 'sacred temple' or caves near their home, however after months of walking until his feet are sore and countless encounters with monster hordes, you could say Twilight has officially had a change of heart. Sliding a few boxes around for an extra heart piece really doesn't sound that bad compared to chasing a shadow across several realms, now does it?

With that said, he had been a bit relieved when a group of locals brought it to his attention that some strange smoke had been rising up from a nearby mountain, practically begging the group of visiting heroes to check it out. He wasn't the only one willingly to agree, in fact most of the boys seemed eager to help aside from Time who was hesitant to derail their quest as well as Wild and Warrior who just couldn't understand what all this fuss about dungeons is about. In the end, it was decided that half of the group would go for the locals' sake while the others would stay to investigate leads about portals. At the time, this seemed to be a great trade and Twilight had even been looking forward to being able to do something different, but as his luck continues to prove, it turns out he has none whatsoever in terms of joy...

What even happened? He doesn't quite understand. He was joking with Wind and Hyrule about something long after everyone had split into two groups to make exploring the dungeon go faster. They were nearly complete with their half, having successfully fought a miniboss which was no trouble at all, in fact that's what had them in such high spirits at the moment. They entered the next room while placing bets regarding how 'difficult' the main boss would be when a shout met their ears. Seconds later, Twilight heard a 'BOOM' while being shoved backwards by a heavy force. Given that sound and the vague smell of smoke in the air, he would've assumed he had been hit by the blast of a bomb which probably wouldn't have been so far from the truth if not for you.

It takes a good minute for Twilight's poor mind to catch up, realizing much to his horror what had actually happened as you fell stiffly against his chest, your entire backside scoured. The floor tile behind you both - the same one he was about to step on before you shoved him out of the way - is gone, only a smoldering pile of broken shards left in its wake. Now why it exploded, Twilight doesn't know nor does he care. His main concern is you, sitting up in a snap and grabbing your shoulders with worry. At least there's some relief in you blinking open your eyes to look at him, but the way you groan and flinch at the movement makes him sick with guilt.

"What was that?!" Wild asks the same question that's hidden deep in Twilight's mind.

"The gold floor tiles explode," You explain, the pain clear in your grumbled voice as you attempt to push yourself away from Twilight, although he doesn't allow it, instead carefully shifting you to sit on his lap as he hisses as the sight of how the flames had burned right through you tunic, leaving behind a nasty open wound that no doubt continues to burn.

"Why did you do that?!" He asks the questions on the front of his mind, accepting the potion Four quickly hands to him for you. A part of him wants to be angry given how calm they can all be given your injury, although any other day he'd be rational enough to understand panicking won't help the situation. Regardless of logic, this is you. You're hurt and you got this way protecting him. It should be the other way around if anything!

"Don't be such a hypocrite. You would've done the same for any of us," It's as if you can read his mind as he carefully pours the liquid over your burns, causing you to hiss quietly, but other than that, you're actually handling the pain pretty well, "Besides, it would've been a lot worse had you stepped on it directly. All that fur you wear looks pretty flammable to me. You would've gone up in flames instead of a small burn."

Twilight tries to keep his eyes down at his work as a stubborn sign that he knows you're right, not that he could ever admit such a thing aloud, "...Still...A shouted warning could've done."

"No it wouldn't. Your foot was already lowering -"

"- You two can argue about this later," Four interjects while offering you a hand to get up, "That potion is only a temporary solution. We should get you back to the inn so that Hyrule can heal you completely."

You're about to begrudgingly agree, knowing full well how difficult it'll be to walk on your own even though you were pretty excited to finish this dungeon. Before you can take Four's hand, however, you're lifted into the air, held bridal style in Twilight's arm (which poses no challenge for him to accomplish).

"I'll carry you back."

"You don't have to -"

"- You took a hit for me. It's the least I can do," His voice is as stern as his mind, making it clear that this is the only compromise you'll be presented with less you want to keep the argument up all night. Thus, you merely pout and look away with a huffed 'fine', "I'm sure the three of you will be fine finishing the dungeon by yourselves?"

"Pff, with our eyes closed," Legend crosses his arms, offended anyone would think otherwise. Four and Wind nod quickly, their eyes still reflecting sympathy for your sake even though they know you've seen worse.

With that, Twilight turns, heading towards the exit of the dungeon with you (more comfortably that you'll say) in his arms and Hyrule at his feet. As upset as he appears on the outside, Twilight can't help feeling some sort of shameful pride at the thought that you'd be so fond of him as to willingly risk injury, so he makes an unspoken promise to himself to spoil you for at least until the evidence of your burns fade. It's the least he could do (and the best excuse he'll find for staying at your side nonstop).

Perhaps it's because he's never had many opportunities to do anything like this before the Calamity or maybe it's because he got so accustomed to it after those dark days. The origin doesn't change the fact that Wild tends to find more comfort in nature than ever before. The splashing of stream water down a waterfall. The singing of birds or creaking of crickets depending on the hour. The gentle breeze through his hair as his only company...It's become a habit of his to find spots like this during tough moments, especially those when he feels himself slipping the most...moments like what occurred today...

If he wasn't so upset and angry inside, he'd feel sort of guilty for running off the way he had back there. It wasn't anyone else’s fault that he's out of his element lately, resulting in more screwups on the battlefield. It's not their fault that he messed up during the last fight, too, breaking his sword against a darknut's armor, leaving himself defenseless (he didn't think it would be that strong!). Most importantly of all, it wasn't their fault that his ignorance resulted in you, for whatever reason, feeling as if it was your responsibility to save him with complete disregard for the risk. 

Wild keeps replaying the moment in his mind - you fighting viciously against the darknut until it was reduced to a puff of purple smoke, but not without receiving several cuts and scrapes yourself. He's not sure what hurts more: seeing you injured for his sake or the anger that flashed in your eyes when you looked back at him. You're not happy with him. Nobody was considering the number of times they've warned him about not rushing in battle head first, however your disappointment carried a strong burn that challenged even the Old Man's. If anything, Wild strives to see your joy and hear your praise, not be the source of your dismay. 

He can't help but wonder what would have happened if you weren't so prepared at that moment. What if you had gotten a more serious injury? What if you had died all because of him? Could he stomach losing another person he loves like that? How can he call himself a hero when he's constantly failing those he should be protecting the most? He can't. He's a failure...

"Link?"

He pretends not to hear your voice, although it's a poor act given the way he flinches. Sighing, you take his turned head and stiffened shoulders as an invite to walk closer, finding a seat beside him in the grass. You don't say much at first, simply taking in the beautiful scenery and counting the fireflies fluttering around you.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you either. I lost my temper, but I shouldn't have."

"You had every right to," Wild mumbles, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face against them so that he doesn't have to look at you, too afraid he'll break down if he does, "I put everyone in danger by being impatient. I put you in danger."

You shrug, looking down as you run your hand against the grass, "...You really do have to be more careful, I'll stand by that. You gotta assess situations especially against monsters you've never seen before...but with that said, no one can expect you to be perfect. This situation is different for all of us. Really, aside from the Captain, most of us have never even worked in groups before, so it'll take getting used to. Just try to keep in mind that you're not alone, so don't act like it."

Wild lifts his head only to put his chin upon his knee, still stubbornly glaring into the distance instead of responding to your words, although he's forced to smile a little when you nuzzle your face against his while whining his name for attention. 

"I heard you."

"Then show it. It took me forever to think-up that heartfelt speech. Do you know how difficult public speaking is?"

"It's only the two of us."

"And like, thirty fireflies!" You gesture to the bugs in question, happy to hear Wild's chuckle and even happier to wrap your arm around his without any sort of fight, "...I mean it, Link. It's okay to lean against the rest of us sometimes. I'd be devastated if something irreversible ever happened to you."

He blushes, his words whispered as he leans his head against yours and closes his eyes, "...I'd be, too, if anything happened to you."

This can't be happening again. How is this even Wind's luck? He thought he made himself perfectly clear from the beginning that just because he's the youngest in the group does not mean everyone has to keep trying to protect him as if he’s made of glass! He's a hero of courage, too! He did his part, traveling across the great sea, fighting through numerous difficult dungeons, and defeating Ganondorf all by himself - Well, the King of Red Lions and Zelda helped some, too, but the point still stands! He didn't need Wild to take a hit for him that one time nor did he need you to do practically the same exact thing now!

It's worse this time than it was with Wild which only makes Wind angrier (and guiltier). Unlike the Champion who bounced back onto his feet after a few minutes, you weren't so lucky. No matter how much Wind shook your body or cried your name with his tears dripping across your bloodied face, you just wouldn't wake up. He couldn't even lift you to carry you to safety. Time has already tried explaining to him that his panicked state likely waived his strength, but Wind refuses to accept that excuse. 

He must've done something during that fight to make you think he couldn't handle himself. You got hurt - really hurt trying to protect him and he couldn't even protect you afterwards. It was Warrior who picked you up and ran out of the battle. It was Hyrule and Legend who worked together to heal your wounds with potions and magic. What did Wind do in the meantime? He cried like a child.

He did his best to hide it, wandering to the back of the group while desperately trying to use his sleeves to clear away the tears. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. For those long ten minutes of you not moving regardless of everyone's efforts, he was left thinking he had killed you. He's a hero who's supposed to save people, but instead he ended up getting one of the nicest and more selfless individuals he's ever known killed!

At long last, you began to stir, further awoken by the chorus of relieved sighs that followed. You complained of a nasty headache and immediately tried sitting up which Legend wouldn't allow; you're okay - you're alive despite how it may have looked seconds ago, but that doesn't make Wind feel much better. 

Even from where he stands so far away, he can see the smudged blood staining your forehead and that dazed look in your eyes while Wild just laughs, welcoming you to the club of needless head injuries. You, of course, brush everyone else off, your eyes skillfully finding Wind despite how he tries to hide from view.

You croak his name, yet he turns his back to you with crossed arms, doing his best not to start crying again, "I thought I told you all to stop risking yourselves for my sake. I can handle myself!”

"You would've been hurt yourself," You comment with a frown, making Wind's anger flare.

"I'm not a child, though!"

"I didn't say you are one. I would've jumped in front of you even if you were as old as the rest of us. Trust me, Wind. The only thing on my mind at that moment wasn't anything related to your age, it was simply the worry that you were about to be ambushed. I didn't want to see you hurt any more than I'd want to see any of you boys get hurt."

Wild chews on his bottom lip, blinking back the tears as he at last stomps over to join the rest of you, pouting stubbornly yet his voice is genuine as he mumbles, “...I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You give a droopy smile and a thumbs up, although the action is rather shaky, “As good as ever!”

“No, you clearly are not,” Twilight deadpans.

“Lay back down already, you have a concussion!”

"Legend, lower your voice."

[all-or-nothing-baby]

I LOVE IT WHEN CHARACTERS IN FICS YOU'RE WRITING END UP TAKING YOU PLACES YOU HAVE ZERO HAND IN

e.g. i'm currently writing a buddie wip and the boys are getting drunk on tequila and eddie just posed the question to buck: which star wars characters would we both be? and now theyre going about making their comparisons in ways that show what each of them loves about the other and i'm tapping away at the keyboard, incredulous, like oh my GOD THIS IS GOLD while at the same time thinking OH MAN HOW IS HE COMING UP WITH THIS SHIT? IT'S PERFECT! bc seriously, honestly and truthfully, I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE GOING TO END UP HERE and they're having an absolute blast omg like sooo much fun yet it's also brilliant bc it's the most incredible way for them to express their feelings (somewhat repressed; it's the #pining part of the fic) for one another and just how on earth did they even get here when they were discussing dead wives only moments ago? like how? THEY ARE WORDS ON MY PAGE BUT THEY ARE AUTONOMOUS like wtf?!—

and okay this maybe got away from me a little bit but i think i'm just in trying to convey HOW COMPLETELY AWESOME IT IS WHEN CHARACTERS GENUINELY BEGIN NARRATING THEIR OWN STORIES AND YOU, THE WRITER, ARE LEFT SIMPLY NODDING YOUR HEAD PROFUSELY AND JUST VERY GRATEFUL THAT YOU'RE ALLOWED TO TAG ALONG FOR THE RIDE

like. i just think it's rad af

[not-poignant]

I finally checked out your playlists on Spotify for all of your works and ohhhhh my god when I saw brothers on a hotel bed in the Stain playlist I had to lay facedown about it for like a good ten minutes. It’s perfect. It’s terrible. I am picking Alex up and shaking him like a dog toy. I haven’t thought about that song in YEARS and it immediately hit me like a freight train. GOD that boy is so sad I can’t wait for him to be even marginally less tortured and depressed.

Anyway I love your playlists and I love your writing, thank you for all of it 💕💕💕💕

Yessssss, omg this makes me so happy, anon.

I often put on the playlists when I write each chapter for a story, and in many cases will pick a song or sequence of songs that fits, and actually Brothers on a Hotel Bed fits so much one of the chapters that's coming up. Even if they're not on a bed at the time, lol.

Sometimes we just gotta hear a song that's a total blast from the past and then sit in feels for a while, and that song is definitely one of those songs!!

(I'm so glad you enjoy the playlists though, seriously, I love making them for folks. For anyone curious, my playlists are here!)

[lily-alphonse]

Omg pls do smth for Haley x Sebastian. I can imagine her hating him for being the ‘town freak’ but she actually loves him yk yk??

Hi Seph! I had an insane brain blast for this one and I would love to write it one day. I'm going to try to summarize as best as I can because my brain is absolutely sprinting with this idea and I already have the makings of a full fic formed lol. 

I checked AO3 for funsies and was surprised to find they genuinely are rare, I was expecting more. At the time of my search I see ten, you can click here to see existing Haley/Seb on AO3.

I actually have a plan for these two to hook up in my SamAlex series (it isn't posted anywhere yet but sooo soon, you can check out the ask its based on though) but that's more casual, let’s give them the makings of a real relationship this time.

I might have seen this somewhere but I love the idea of Haley going to Sebastian for weed, and that's how they get closer.

I need Sebastian to SAVE her. That’s what got me all fired up. That’s my climax.

Ok so initially, Haley definitely just sees Sebastian as a freak, especially because he was even weirder in high school while he was figuring out his style and stuff. 

She dreads that she has no other option but to go to him for weed, preferring to go through Sam whenever possible, but Jodi is really strict you know, he can't always be meeting her for stuff like that or keeping weed in his place. 

So she has no choice but to meet him.

Sebastian has changed. He's grown, he's gotten his style together. He's kind of punk, but Haley doesn't hate it. (I'm imagining @modern-gremlin 's interpretation of Sebastian for this). Haley's even a little intrigued, but won't admit it to herself. He's not the kind of guy she usually goes for.

The first time she meets him at his house on the mountain she complains about the trek, but she’s wearing fashionable heeled boots and Sebastian looks at her like she’s stupid. “Nice boots.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

Sebastian can't tell if she’s asking that seriously or not. It makes things awkward (high implications that Haley is autistic I love autistic Haley fanon). “Maybe” he decides to answer.

She waggles a gloved finger at him. “No, no. I don’t take sarcasm. I will thank you for your compliment, and your backhanded joke is ruined,” she says matter-of-factly.

Sebastian, amused and a little high, just chuckles and says “Okay.”

“Thank you. Now where’s my weed?” 

Sebastian shakes his head to himself, an incredulous smile glued to his face. He can’t quite shake his sarcastic tendencies when he gestures back to the house, “After you my lady.” 

She nods and flips her blonde hair behind her.

They start meeting up regularly, usually once a month. Always short business dealings. At first Sebastian does offer to smoke her out so she can test it, but she refuses. More than potentially being awkward, she really prefers just to smoke at parties. It's not that she doesn't trust him, she supposes she does if she's buying weed from him, and he never seems to short her.

I want to have a buildup bonding moment where she learns something about him that's surprising and she likes it. Maybe she comes by and he is working on his motorcycle (🥵 every Sebastian lover when we get that scene) and after that starts opening up to him a bit more.

She starts letting him know about the parties she is going to in town where she's taking the weed to. When it seems a little sus or new territory, he asks her how she's getting home and stuff like that, just to make sure she's safe, and she laughs him off. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. He assures her anyway that if she's ever in a bad situation she can call him or Sam. They are often in town on the weekend anyway. Haley is touched at that.

She decides maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get high with him sometime. I’m thinking the first time is a fun little hangout with a group though I’m not sure who exactly yet. Essentially I need them to get high and have a good time and with their guards down there actually starts to be a little romantic tension between them but they can’t do anything about it because of the others there. 

Next we get a party scene where Haley is kind of checked out and uninterested in hooking up or playing any racy party games because unfortunately she’s kind of hung up on Sebastian now. Both are individually having their own 'damn I might have caught feelings' moments.

A few days after those realizations they stumble across each other by accident and are both sober, that's important. They have a cute little sober moment like she comes across him in the woods as she’s taking pics, or he takes her out on his motorcycle. By the end of it they are officially both interested in each other. They are looking forward to seeing each other again, but neither of them has spelled out that they're dating. 

Then, first conflict. Something happens, probably some kind of miscommunication. They don’t end up reconciling before Haley gets herself into trouble at the next party she goes to.

This bit originally got too graphic for this post so I will just say, she ends up in a bad situation, and manages to call Sebastian.

Sebastian comes in fully prepared to do jail time. I'm not pretending he is a big guy, I know that, he knows that. He has just seen some shit in his life and knows how to defend himself. Plus it helps that he is pissed. He majorly fucks up the bad guy and rescues Haley.

She's super out of it but murmurs his name. "Seb..."

“I told you I’d come get you,” he says, choking on relief. 

Haley smiles a little and closes her eyes again. He picks her up, walking out of the party cradling her in his arms. 

And then we could get an epilogue of them properly reconciling and becoming official and all that teehee

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday!

If it tickles your fancy, I would love, love, love, love, love a fic of any flavor in the Mob Wife Alexander Lightwood universe you just casually yeeted onto my dashboard because that's obviously going to live in my head rent free for the next many moons. <3

(What a world omg)

Laws i love this verse so it will always tickle my fancy to get prompts and saeth keeps sending me things that boost my interest. Well this is definitely a flavor in that verse and I hope you enjoy it because it took a turn I didn’t imagine it taking.

Seriously I never planned this character to be in the fic or ever write from their pov and then it was like ‘oh hey interesting let’s do it”.

So this is basically an interlude after Alec’s figured he could either be a bodyguard or a boytoy and only one of those gets to flirt and touch Magnus all night.

Simon pov (he’s an unreliable narrator, prone to rambling, anxiety and dramatic and humorous interludes and he lacks so much info)

Alec is just like: I would just like to get back to my husband. he doesn’t sleep as well when I’m gone, so please talk as little as possible and just listen first.

Simon: I’m so glad I can’t breathe. If I move he’ll kill me.

(also mob wife is an occupation not a gender role but Simon doesn’t get that… yet)

—

“Simon.”

And Simon shivers because Alec Lightwood doesn’t need to raise his voice to be terrifying.

And Simon is terrified.

Officially.

But also not overwhelmingly so.

Because he’s also finally seventy percent sure Alec won’t kill him, which is much better than the fifteen percent Simon thought it was until recently.

Though in a crisis, he’s also the one Simon wants to hide behind.

Even in the beginning, Simon’s chances were always better with Alec, even if they both complained about it.

“Okay, yeah right. I’m Simon.” He hears himself say and he reminds himself to take a breath even though he doesn’t need to.

A lack of heartbeat and oxygen only mean that even Simon’s own body won’t save him from panic anymore.

“Yes? I know you’re Simon.”

And Alec says it like it's an obvious conclusion but Simon is just really happy to hear him say it, especially without a threat.

Because Alec isn’t the kind of person who is casual with most people and Simon is almost nothing to him.

Sometimes Simon worries he’s just another body to Alec — one in the congo-line-of-lovers that Izzy has had — but then Izzy reminds him he’s the only boyfriend Alec’s bothered to remember the name of.

And Simon is also one half of Clary’s package deal and boy, that sure did him no favors when they first met.

He takes pride in it.

“Simon—“ Alec says and he’s sighing, deep and long and Simon wonders if his inattention and eagerness has once again doomed his — now second — attempt at living.

Well living while being dead but Simon might actually stay dead this time if he lets his thoughts keep going.

“The greenhouse?” Alec is asking him and Simon wonders why until he remembers how much he hates Alec’s office.

The greenhouse is the only other place Alec takes official meetings.

And something shivers down Simon’s spine.

Because Alec doesn’t even like him but he’s noticed Simon’s dislike.

This is an Alec that’s trying to be careful.

So just how much does Alec notice? Simon wonders and the little part of his brain that he’s learned can save his life tingles.

Where does it end?

“For the love of, Simon sit the fuck down and breathe every fifth count.”

Simon finds himself on the hard marble of the Institute’s unfamiliar greenhouse floor. His head between his knees and a too heavy hand roughly smacking his back in sets of five.

There is brightness on his face when he finally opens his eyes.

“This is sunlight!” He accuses angrily, because he finally trusted Alec a full seventy percent and now this.

Betrayal!

“Simon you’re a daylighter. You were blasted by the soul sword and survived. You’re fine.”

And Alec doesn’t sound sympathetic and Simon winces because well—

Okay yeah. That’s fair.

Plus Alec has seen Simon drunkenly dance naked in the sun and that is a memory neither of them talk about.

It actually calms Simon down, because if Alec refrained from killing him when he plastered his naked body to Alec’s and yelled ‘teach me how to fight future brother-in-law!” Alec had in fact, spared his life.

First by not killing him.

And secondly, for not telling Magnhs that Simon’s no-good-very-bad-brain decided it was perfectly reasonable to cop a feel of Alec’s ass with vampiric strength.

It’s not a bad ass.

A little flat but very muscular with thighs that could break a neck and Simon tries very hard not to work himself back into a panic.

He does not need Alec Lightwood bringing him down from a panic attack while he thinks about how he nakedly gropped Magnus’ Bane husband’s ass hard enough that Alec had sighed and in the medical bay he’d dragged Simon to, activated an iratze.

“Magnus is going to know that these marks aren’t his.” Alec had said casually, “and he’s not going to like it. I really didn’t like it. You certainly didn’t like it either, if you know what’s good for you. So therefore, this never happened.”

And Simon is never ever going to tell even Clary that he did like it.

He’d liked it very much and he’d suddenly understood Magnus’ instant obsession.

Which had turned into a new crisis.

Because Simon’s taste is apparently Lightwood’s.

Which is not helpful for his continued life expectancy.

Because it will either be Izzy for eyeing up her married brother, Magnus for eyeing up his husband, and Alec for Simon’s sheer audacity.

“Simon, do I need to get someone else?”

“No!” Simon manages to get out because Alec Lightwood-Bane can never find out that he snapped out of the panic attack three minutes ago and almost sent himself into another panic attack because of said man’s ass. “I’m good. I’m good.”

Alec doesn’t look impressed but Simon knows he must not look very impressive.

He doesn’t take it personally.

Alec isn’t impressed by anyone besides Magnus, unless he’s impressed by someone’s stupidity.

And that never turns out well.

“Okay, so what can I do you for? I mean for you. What can I do for you?”

Alec is eyeing him like Simon is Magnus’ awful snake Baby.

Which is rude.

Because Simon has seen Alec with that nasty little worm and Alec is much nicer to Baby than he is to anyone besides Magnus and Madzie.

“Okay so listen carefully. This is a lot of information I’m going to give tou. Magnus has several identities in the mundane world. Some of them are linked legally but most of them are involved and hold a great deal of power in mundane crime groups.”

“Magnus is a mob boss!” Simon gasps out in giddy delight and then Alec is ruining his joy like the grumpy dilf he is.

The grumpy dilf he is not.

Because Simon doesn’t even know what a dilf is and he’s never been so glad that Alec can’t read his mind.

“No Simon. He’s not actually running a mob or gang or whatever else you’re thinking. He’s simply a powerful individual and is known for his information and skills and he has a lot of money. Nobody wants to be on his bad side. Everyone wants to be on his good side. So he has the authority of someone high-up and even the mundanes behave in Brooklyn. I personally don’t really care how Magnus got his status or how he maintains it.”

And Simon has so many questions but Alec has his—

if-you-interrupt-me-I’m-shoving-my-hand-through-your-chest-and-exiting-with-your-heart

— look on his face.

And Simon has seen that security footage. So he stays silent.

“It’s a persona that most High Warlocks do. Create identities in the mundane underbelly of their territories. Make sure the mundanes fear and respect them enough that they can come and go freely. They need to be trusted to keep an eye on any slip-ups. And no, they’re not undercover. They’re not doing the mundanes work for them.

“But Magnus and I quite honestly don’t care. We protect mundanes from the shadowworld, not from themselves. If the mundanes want to kill themselves and each other, that’s their problem. So long as they only do it in mundane ways and not with ties to the shadowworld. We don’t need the clave coming down here, bristling about the accords anytime soon, or anytime at all.”

And Simon swallows because he understands how serious this is, intimately.

Aldertree was sent by the clave.

He remembers Aldertree.

Izzy remembers Aldertree.

A lot of people remember Aldertree.

So he keeps focused, listening to the hummingbird-wing-beat of Alec’s pulse under his words.

“Magnus has done this for centuries. He knows what he’s doing. But we’d both prefer if I could go with him in the future.”

And Simon is practically vibrating because he’s nearly positive that he’s about to get a padawan.

Which, even in such a serious situation, is amazing!

“Which means I need to know more about modern mundane culture than I do.” Alec is grimacing and Simon knows it’s a testament to just how much Alec loves Magnus that he’s doing this.

“Magnus gets by because he has centuries of knowledge but I’ll need a crash course. And no Simon, I cannot read your mind.” Alec Lightwood’s eye roll continues to be a thing of beauty and Simon feels his undead soul un-die a little more. Because Alec definitely can’t read minds.

Or Simon wouldn’t continue existing.

“Look, Magnus and I went over a list of all the questions you might possibly ask. He gave me the answers so I didn’t have to waste time. We both agreed you’d be the best to ask, since you spend the most time around young adult mundanes. And you’re popular with your peers.”

Simon feels like he’s dreaming or maybe died again.

Except this is a much nicer if not possibly a more traumatizing experience than his first death so Simon concludes it has to be real.

His luck is always this bad.

“Magnus thought and I agreed that it would be just you and I, you tend to—“ and Alec trails off and Simon has a moment where he wishes he’d never drank Jace’s blood.

Because Alec is trying to be considerate.

Because he’s trying not to say that Simon can’t handle being in the same room with both of them after the incident.

It’s mortifying.

“Right, so do I need to call Magnus so he can join us?” And Alec looks very serious, eyes dark and calm and without a flicker of anger or of true concern. Alec is a good leader not because he cares but because he makes himself act regardless of care.

It took a while for Simon to realize that sometimes the people who care the most are the ones who let you down the worst.

And Simon winces, because Alec does look incredibly tired compared to when Simon saw him… however long ago.

“No sorry. I’m good, just a surprise. But like a good surprise, it’s like I’m Q and—“ and Simon trails off with a sigh because there’s no point and he is shocked when Alec runs his big hands over his scruffy perfect Lightwood face.

Or maybe it’s his Trueblood genes.

Whatever.

“Yes, okay fine. Simon you can be Q. But if you call me 007 or whistle that obnoxious tune I will give you cause to regret it.”

“You know 007?” Simon actually gasps, because this might truly be some epic dream and he doesn’t even register the threat.

Well, his hindbrain does and it’s screaming, but Simon can’t listen to it over the shockhold Alec’s words have put him in.

“Simon, consider who my husband is. Just for a minute.”

And Simon does consider it.

He considers how a delighted and charmed Magnus would coax Alec into ‘research’ for his ‘undercover excursion into the mundane world’.

“Oh my god.” Simon barely breathes out, “Magnus made you marathon them.”

And Alec is gritting his teeth. Simon can hear the grind of his incisors and he swallows, hard.

“Right. Absolutely no mentions of triple digits or shockingly appropriate theme songs.”

And Simon’s death flashes—

hunger the dirt the gnawing-bite-thirst-trap-feed of hunger and Clary’s screams

— before his eyes when Alec gives an exasperated sigh.

The moment passes and Alec is giving him a begrudging yet judgmental look.

“It’s often that the criminal part of mundane life is where the shadow world slips over. Magical drugs slip into mundane ones, easy money, anything goes. And no one cares about that except sometimes it leaves evidence. Unexplainable evidence that mundanes want explained. Right now Magnus is chasing a new rumor; and we’d like for me to be able to go with him.”

This is quite possibly the single coolest thing Simon has ever been involved in.

“So are you going in as his bodyguard? A new dealer of some super magic drug? Oh. My. God. Alec, are you going to be a rival boss or something coming in? Or a hitman? Are you going in as Magnus’ cleaner?”

And Alec is staring at Simon like he’s actually truly lost it.

Which Simon doesn’t get. They’re all obviously the best and most understandable choices.

“Simon, Magnus is my husband. Obviously I’m his mob wife.”

And Simon can’t breathe, but he feels the oxygen knocked out of his lungs.

Because Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane — a man who has prevailed heavily in both Simon’s nightmares and his recent and most horrifying wet dreams — wants to learn how to be a proper mob wife.

“Oy vey.” Simon manages to get out and then he looks up at Alec and blinks at his too-tall, too-powerful body.

And wonders how he’s supposed to guru Alec into anything that can pass as what middle-aged criminals will consider a wife.

Mob or otherwise.

Later they’re finally finishing up their first crash course and Alec looks worse than he did with his own arrow through his chest.

But he escorts Simon out, ordering his shadowhunters absently to various duties and checking in as he passes and Simon takes it in with a sudden wonderment.

Simon’s seen more changes of leadership in his short time as a part of the shadowworld than is normally seen in a generation.

And he got a much more up-close and unwanted personal view of how badly it can go.

And Alec is… he’s surprisingly really great. Even if Simon only has shitty examples to compare him to and so when Simon is walking out into the sun and Alec is going through a portal that appears out of nowhere, he lets his guard down and mutters.

“He’s so totally M.”

And just before the portal warps out of existence, Simon’s hearing picks up a quiet, irritated—

“Simon.”

And he winces.

Alec’s senses are frightening and Simon is a vampire.

[kirbeeluvs-u]

𝗛𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗰𝘀

hii, first post on tumblr!! ive been wanting to post my own writings but haven't mustered up the courage until now so i hope u enjoy 🤓☝️

warnings: none i think?? just fluff 🥳

-despite the fact that hobie HATES labels, i think he'd put a label on your relationship with him because um, ackshewally he doesn't belive in consistency so 🥸 -but seriously though i don't think he'd hate the idea of labeling a relationship -while hobie would def give you a piggyback if u asked for it, i can just imagine hobie pestering u to give him a piggy back on long missions (if you're a spider person) and since he's so tall and lanky it would look so funny with his legs sticking all the way out infront of you 😭😭 -yk how hobie turns pink around ppl he cares about such as mayday and miles? whenever he's around you it would be the same but i also had a thought that he'd turn a darker shade of pink + a lighter pink that represents his romantical feelings for you + his platonic feelings for you because he just cares about u sm in general not just romantically -i know almost every hobie writer has said this but yes he would absolutely make his own gifts for you and they would be sick asf -like he'd make accessories for u or maybe even a matching vest for u with a ton of pins on it like hobies omg how cute?!?!😱😱 -he'd give you a lot of good advice but would also encourage you to go apeshit and break rules (like he did for miles) cause everyone needs that kind of person in their life and that is most definitely hobie brown -hobie is a funny guy and a good amount of your time spent with him is just you laughing your ass off and telling him to stop BUT HE KEEPS ADDING ONTO THE JOKE AND UR DYING LIKE "LET mE BREATHE AKSJRF" -while hobie has an elite sense of humor it would be very hard to get hobie to laugh really hard unless you tickle him or something (would hobie be ticklish? idk 🤷‍♀️)  but i feel like most people would only be able to get a chuckle out of him -but, on a very rare occasion you'd have him shitting his pants cause he's laughing so hard (NOT ACTUALLY SHITTING 😨😨 unless ur into that?? 😟🤔) cause of some random funny joke u made or just you being funny in general -hobie would introduce you to so many cool people and places and honestly being with him as an s/o or just a friend would be an absolute blast (unless ur his cannon event then idk what to tell u 😶 but let's be honest half the people on tumblr would do it anyways)

that's it!! thank u for reading up until here and if this sucks bootyballs pls let me know cuz i need advice 😽😽😽

[monstersinthecosmos]

stealing your question as promised: what authors do you think shaped your writing the most when you were first starting?

-mothmage

sdjkgas in middle school my favorite authors were Anne Rice and Francesca Lia Block and I think they have SENSUALITY in common even though their writing styles are SO opposite. As a teen when I was first writing I think I learned so much from both of them, like the seriousness and drama of AR but at the same time, FLB is so concise and punchy and sometimes her books are like these waterfalls of adjectives and I tried to think in that way too! Like I'm a very visual person so FLB books were like fucking crack for me, just heaps and heaps of descriptions of color and glittery and starry night skies and flowers growing where they shouldn't and it feels like poetry!

(I opened a random FLB book off my shelf and this is what I mean: We walked up and down the hills until our legs ached, then rode the trolley car to feel rushes of salty, misty air. We had picnics and fed the swans on the lake under the flowering terra-cotta arches, drank tea and ate pastries in rooms with cupids and rosebuds painted on the walls, strolled through the park, green-dazzled, fragrance-drunk, gasped at treasures gleaming gold in the half-lit glass cases of the museum. Then we'd return with spices, fruits and vegetables from Chinatown, seafood and baguettes from the wharf.

Her writing is so simple but it's just like heaps and heaps of sensory details !! And it's an interesting spectrum between her & AR to see how much you can say and like what type of efficiency you can find, because both of them give me that same feeling and feel so sensuous to me. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE AND SMELLS LIKE AND SOUNDS LIKE, TAKE ME THERE!

So as a teen I think I was learning a lot from them both and like I remember a fic I wrote with someone at a mall and it was like my FLB moment, I was like OMG I MUST MENTION THE TACO SMELL IN THE FOOD COURT AND THE PERFUME KIOSK AND THE HOUSE MUSIC BLASTING FROM A HAT SHOP AND THE CRUNCHY SUGAR ON A PRETZEL! And that's something that's stuck with me a lot, I think. I always want to tell you how things feel and smell like we're going on a journey, okay!

They both also have a way of treating cities/locations like characters--FLB actually does this quite literally by describing cities as if they're women (like LA is a blonde woman with big sunglasses and NYC has dyed black hair with severe red lipstick that stains on her cigarette butts, etc something like that) and it feels really specific and made me think a lot about locations and settings and how they affect the characters and story! They were also both the first books I ever read with queer people! FLB's short story Dragons in Manhattan was the first story I ever read with a trans person back when I was like 12 or 13.

AND THEN as a final nail in the coffin LOL I read I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb when I was in 9th or 10th grade and it just really like !! IDK broke my head open for character voice. I don't think I'd read it so well done before, or maybe not noticed before. LIKE I MEAN this entire concept is like asking what did WE discover as kids or whatever, like so much of it is happenstance and if it hadn't been these authors it would've been someone else, and it's not like I stopped reading LOL like I still learn things from reading all the time! But Wally Lamb really brought this home for me. Like the way he writes Dominick's narration is just so like cynical and rugged and full of hurt and it made me think a lot about like how to profile a character with the language we use. I don't think FLB does this too much bc her writing is so breezy anyway and AR is so wordy that I don't think I could pick up on it as a teenager. I get more nuance now and see it better but it's there's a base level of like fanciness and purple prose that can be hard to see through on the first try, at least for me as a teen.

ANYWAY SORRY THAT WAS A REALLY LONG RESPONSE I JUST GOT REALLY EXCITED but Anne Rice + FLB + Wally Lamb wombo combo for emotionally torturous sensory overload cynical guttermouth style.

[citizenerased77]

I love your blog ❤️ just curious if you have any Muse (or other) songs that you think are particularly Belldom coded? If you want to, please list as many as you can think of cause I'm making a playlist for inspiration 😁

tysm for the kind words!! i really appreciate it <3

belldom coded songs? *cracks knuckles* ohohoh this is gonna be so much fun >:)

unintended - ik matt wrote it about his girlfriend, but what if said "girlfriend" is dom?? it's such a cute little love song that i feel perfectly encapsulates their *cough* incredibly gay*cough* relationship. honestly showbiz era was such a and era for them bc they weren't well-known enough to have us crazy fans documenting every breath they take. who knows what they did, and we just never knew about any of it?? hmmmm (just an fyi i'm not dissing on any muse fans for being obsessed <3)

bliss - i'm actually in the process of writing a belldom fic in which it's revealed that bliss was actually written by matt about dom! anyways i feel like dom is known to be a pretty happy dude, and maybe the song's about matt wanting that happiness for himself. matt wants that sunshine boy to be HIS

endlessly - *sob* this song. omg. i can imagine it being from either dom or matt's pov. like a forbidden romance of sorts, where their paths just don't cross in that way. even if they wish that they did. the lyrics really push this. help i'm gonna start crying :((

resistance - nooo it's not winston and julia. it's matt and dom. hop on the loooove train bc this song is romantic af! they have finally realized they need each other's LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVEEE (get it? eh? lmao). a bit spooked by the prospect of this newfound realization, and they're not sure if they want the world to know yet (SPOILER: we've always known )

guiding light - PUUUUUUREEE HEARTSS STUUUUUMBLEEEEE IN MYYYYYYY HAANDSSS THEYY CRRUUUUMBLEEEE. enough said. no but seriously, this song seems perfect for them imo. matt seeks comfort, guidance, and love from the one he trusts most. sorry chris.

verona - resistance, but all grown up. a sequel of sorts. the basis for nearly all belldom fanfics (which are truly works of art btw), when the two just stop giving a shit about what others think and decide that they want to go crazy and fuck n stuff. almost brings a tear to my eye

can't take my eyes off of you - i'd consider this one an honorary mention, just because it's a cover. sure, you could interpret almost any love song to be belldom coded but this one just seems so perfect for them. like, notice how dom is CONSTANTLY looking at matt whilst performing. no matter what's going on, he can't tear his eyes away from his little meerkat lover. matt does similar things. if dom wasn't confined to his drum fortress, he'd probably do the same thing as matt, who utilizes his extra mobility to tease dom and stand in front of his drum kit. and yk how he used to stand on top of the kit and/or jump in it?? omg.

i had a blast making this list, so i hope that it's helpful in some way <3

[spookyserenades]

okayyyyyyyy I loooove the chapter (as usual) and I donno where to start or focus @ all asdfghjkl I mean Joon's birthdayy? Jimin's birthdayy? the whole fiasco in the brewery? the old hag being all bark no bite? the tournaments? sweet tae's handy work? and then halloween hit us like a truck and boom gotta say I didn't see that coming I thought they were done with being toddlers (?) different theories r already runnin wild in my mind abt that.. well the most plausible one is I have a feeling they fought about the u no paranormal stuff cuz that's what our joonie & jk bonded over and share a common interest in and our foxy had always been wary abt stuff like that not taking it seriously. And moving on (i hv so much 2 say asdfghjk) for a second I was abt 2 accuse u of being biased for our gothic style elk cuz his birthday got more exposure but then again can't say anything cuz a video camera didn't cost our girlie a fortune I'm ugly crying rgt now VESTAA omg I love horses and I'm soo looking forward to scenes with her and yayyyyyyy finallyyy fucking finallyyy our big bad wolf became sweet ( but now I kinda hv doubts aftr the cliffhanger lol) AND "he won, and the first thing he did was look for her"!!!!!!!!!! YOU DID NOT SAYY THAT OH MY GOD ( insert high pitched squealing) I am down bad for yoongi rgt now and I really love how all their relationships are slowly moving forward you need to win the trophy for best writer in the romantic/horror genre ASAP. Jinnie is a sweetheart and I'm happy his friend is fine and I'm so glad Tae is coming around again. The three note whistle of our foxy seems to hold some significance I'm intrigued but call me petty cuz I'm not gonna dwell on it, Foxy been getting on my bad side these days for some reason. but can't stay mad at Al cuz that's friendship goals right there Y/n has amazing friends. and the tarot interpretations were sooo cooool too. In conclusion lemme jst say the chapter gave me whiplash in the best possible way my love for Trouvaille is ever growing ig luv ya tc I'm already counting days for the nxt 🖤

fhdjakfsh YAY I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVED IT!!!! There was so much going on in this chapter, and lots to discuss eeee.... Let's start! 🤭

The birthdays... I just love writing them! I can't wait to tackle the other guy's birthdays in the future, too-- (next up is Seokjinnie!!) And the brewery scene was a blast too. I like too add a little bit of tension between Alice, Hoseok, and Y/N, and Seokjin was so excited to eat at a restaurant and try new foods... then you have jealous Tae! And you're right, turns out that old hag is no match for Y/N, Jeongguk, and Namjoon when they join forces. (Luckily for them!)

Halloween... I might write a bonus scene for that closer to when the holiday is upon us! Like them decorating, prepping, more Samhain rituals. That could be fun, no? But the new fight that has been stirred up... they all need to figure out how to argue without it escalating. I suppose with so many male hybrids in the house, conflict is bound to happen, but they could certainly handle it better. I think you're onto something, with Hoseok's skeptical attitude towards the paranormal, he might have joked about something that offended Jeongguk, and Namjoon just happened to back him up... (Hoseok's still a little wary of Namjoon, too, keep in mind).

HEHE with the birthdays; Jeongguk's was quite a bit lengthier and more fleshed out. Since it was the first one to happen in the story, I wanted to demonstrate how Y/N is willing to plan these special days for her boys. While Namjoon and Jimin's birthday scenes are cut shorter, they also got special gifts that suited their personalities (also, if each of their party scenes were as long as Jeongguk's, I feared that they'd become a bit redundant, especially because those three's birthdays are so close).

Horses are so beautiful! I'm so happy that Y/N could reunite Jimin with Vista. Soon, he'll have even more horses to care for once they open up the stable for boarding, so that's something for you to look forward to! Also so heartwarming that Joon is beginning to trust and care for Y/N. As for Yoongi, he's just sooooo.... 🥵 he just wanted Y/N to celebrate his win with him (romantic!!!) Sweet Jin UGH I just wanna snuggle him, he really feels so close to Y/N. Next update, we'll hear more about his friend, Hannah. And thank goodness Tae is recovering from The Incident. 😩

I do get the Hoseok whistle question here and there! He's based off of Mr. Fox in Fantastic Mr. Fox. The whistle tone comes from the movie, you can hear an example of it HERE! Y/N does have some pretty solid friends, and I'm happy you like them too... if Alice knew about Y/N's feelings (she hasn't even decided them for herself, however) she wouldn't openly flirt with Hoseok. The Tarot interpretations were also super fun to research. The deck used in the story is The Wildwood Tarot. It exists IRL, if you're curious!

You're so sweet, and so kind-- thank you for such a wonderful compliment on my writing. I love sharing it with you all! I loved hearing all of your feedback, as well, thank you so much for sending it in. Love to you, and hope to talk to you during the next update! 💜🥰💜🥰💜🥰💜🥰💜

[angelsnuffbox]

Hello dear!

For the ask game:

An Inducement to Marry.

1-15? If you don't mind?

And if you see this then I want you to know that I love every single one of your fics! ❤

Ask me about any of my fics x

Omg thank you so much! It boggles my mind to think that you actually read all of them goshhh all my good words as well as my weird ones. Seriously thank you for putting up with them.

An Inducement to Marry isn't a fic that I usually get asked about, but I remember I had a blast writing it! I'm flattered you'd bring it up <3 It's been a while though, so forgive me if my memory lapses a little on this.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Iirc this was my second Regency AU so at the time I was just getting into writing regencyAU fics for Good Omens and it was pandemic lockdowns and I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. I was reading so many books on Regency era customs and culture and I wanted to read regency AUs of A/C so badly but there weren't any of them at the time, so I wrote my own.

2: What scene did you first put down?

I write all the scenes in all my fics in the same order they occur in the story! (With the exception of Strictly Business, which I have had to wrestle with for a bit for various reasons).

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I remember really liking all the parts where I went into great detail about how attractive Aziraphale was lmao here's one of them in the opening scene:

Mr Fell was also a right stunner, with eyes bright as Tadfield's perfect summer skies and hair soft as its perfect winter's snow. His countenance was strong. He had a stable, stocky build blanketed by the comfortable, if a bit old-fashioned, textiles of his clothing... A perfectly pleasing man, he was, though one who lived only with his mind in his books even when his hands were completely devoid of them.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

From Chapter 9 there's a part where Aziraphale gives Crowley a kiss on the cheek for good luck in his gambling which he says was "In the spirit of keeping you within marriageable conditions" idk why but I thought it's such a funny thing for him to say at the time. Just the most Aziraphale excuse to kiss Crowley ever.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The confession scene with the illumination! It was so emotionally charged and one of the few scenes that made me actually cry as I wrote them.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

I think it's the most Georgette Heyer-ish thing I ever wrote. The plot is a bit more complex than my usual no frills fluff (romance, comedy, banter, adventure). If I ever fulfil my (totally unrealistic) dream of being a published historical romance fiction writer one day I imagine the story would have these exact vibes.

7: Where did the title come from?

It was remixed from a line that Emma Woodhouse says in the beginning part of Jane Austen's 'Emma'. In the novel she says something like "My being charming is not quite enough to induce me to marry". In the 2020 film the line goes "I have none of the usual inducements to marry. Fortune I do not want. Consequence I do not want."

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

The part where Aziraphale talks about a romance book he likes with the line that goes something like 'For the heart has always bested the mind in performance', I made up the novel title and quotations myself but the themes were based off of Jane Austen's 'Persuasion'. I also mentioned "The Beau" in one part I think, which refers to Beau Brummell, a major arbiter of English mens fashion around the 1810s.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

None! I plotted it out on a discord chat from start to finish one lazy afternoon and it behaved exactly like I plotted, thankfully.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Do I even write about any other pairings lmao

11: What do you like best about this fic?

See answer for no. 6!

12: What do you like least about this fic?

The opening scene is pretty hefty, and some comments did mention that they had a hard time getting past it. I was new to Regency style writing at the time and got too enthusiastic with trying it out. If I were to write that fic now I probably would be more concise about it. Also would try to make it funnier.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I wrote almost all my Regency AUs while listening to the Pride & Prejudice 2005 and the Emma 2020 OSTs to get me in the old timey mood.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Cheese ice cream is valid and it's hella fuckin delicious and also coming from an Asian perspective, it's far far from being the weirdest ice cream flavour out there.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That gambling culture in the Regency era was wild

[tongue-like-a-razor]

LENA!!

I don’t think I’ll get over that recent chapter of ‘Less Talk’! I was so excited to do a reread before that diving into the newest addition to the series!

And I AM UNWELL! That ENDING! 🫠🫠 Ma’am, you’ve got me in a chokehold over here.

(I loved it and I love this series!)

Omg can I just say how much I LOVED reading all your comments as you reread the fic?? You seriously made my day with those 😭😭 And as for that ending, well.. you know I had to throw in at least a smidge of angst to offset all that fluff 😅 I’m so excited that you’re loving the series, I’m having such a blast writing it (even though it’s slow going haha). Can’t wait to share the rest with you guys!!

[wasterella]

okokok, so I know you’re not in SnK anymore (i respect that bc i fell out of it in 2015 and came back like a couple months ago lmao) but i just want you to know I’m so glad I’ve found and read your fics. Good Enough to Eat is like my fucking ereri bible, every ereri fic i read I’m like :// “but would GEtE!Levi do this?” LMAO really when i finished reading every single one of ur snk fics i audibly groaned bc i thought that now i have to wade through the piles of really shitty ereri fics on the tag that have insane kudos (and I’ve already reread GEtE, which is my utmost favorite of ur ereri fics, twice already)

I do know teen wolf though (seen every episode) but like you’ve said to other people, i fell out of it and don’t feel the urge rn to come back but when i do (and who knows when that’ll be, a couple months or years from now? I’ll circle back eventually), I’m immediately hitting the books with ur long list of fics for that fandom!

and reading ur reaction to the plot of SnK is so funny to me bc that’s exactly how I reacted when i came back to half the people dead and other mind blowing shit like eren having a brother lmao! Frankly i wanna watch it (i only saw season 1 bc that was all there was at the time) but i think I’m gonna stop at season 3 and pretend like the plot didn’t do a 180 and start flying off the map bc I’m not crazy about the end game plot lol also mainly bc season 3 levi gives the same energy as the exact way u write levi it’s so comforting

wow this was a very long ask I’m so sorry but i just felt like i had to say something after i tried to do the walk of shame back to the general ereri tag and felt miserable, truly i love your writing so so much i feel like i could trust heart and mind with ur writing and i wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not I’m gonna like reading a fic, bc if it’s yours i know i will. I hope you’re doing well these days and that ur have a blast with Derek and stiles :)

You are so, so sweet, omg ;~; Thank you so much! Seriously, I really appreciate it, and I'm so glad you liked GEtE!!! It was so fun to write (and honestly what made me move from SnK to TW so whoops? lol Turns out I like writing about Werewolves HAHAHA!) Seriously, you're so sweet, thank you so much!! 💕💕

Awww, that means a lot to me, thank you! I know a lot of people have fallen out of TW, both because it ended and because of HOW it ended (and the dumpster fire that was the movie recently) but idk, I like the characters. I never even saw past season 4, so I just have fun with it haha. But totally understand the falling out of it. If you ever do come back, I hope you know there's tooooons of new TW stuff out there from so many amazing new creators to enjoy :)

WAIT EREN HAS A BROTHER?! Omg when tf did that happen??? Did he knows? Is he a half-brother? Was he hidden in the basement?! IS THAT WHAT IS IN THE BASEMENT?!?!?! Man, SnK... the series that keeps on giving me explosions in the brain. Wow. Well. I don't even know who all is alive or dead anymore tbh haha. They could all be dead by now and I'd never know |D Oh wellll... But thank you ;~; That's amazing to hear about S3 Levi, thank you so much!!!

You are just the sweetest bean, thank you so, so much. For real, this ask was lovely, you are lovely, and this was so kind. I appreciate you so much, thank you!! <3<3<3

[rosalinuh]

I really want Taco Bell rn like I desperately need it seriously considering jumping out my 20ft window and walking 4 miles to Taco Bell cause I crave it so bad rn I need it I want a Baja blast it’s not it’s not even funny I crave it like a crackhead with hard drugs or maybe I should like get door dash idk I’ve never used that before but Baja blast is a need it’s not a want I need it so bad omglsowjssjsisebonylesbianskwjdjs anyways I blame men for me wanting Baja blasts I’m gonna like start my own Salem witch trials but for the male gender cause I can’t take them existing anymore it’s too Baja blast stressful but also Baja blast……. Yum and like I also am craving this cranberry wine I had last year but that’s 100% Baja blast gone :( also have you ever looked at a man then suddenly hes cute even tho your whole personality is hating on men like stopppspawoapaoaosaoapos mizu 5 made me cry actual tears why are they giving my girl all this trauma also student a please rot I hate you so much you ruined her coming out to ena and I can’t forgive you ever it was gonna be so cute and make me cry but it would be happy.. unless ena5 we find out she’s transphobic.. pls no sega anyway I’m super stressed out rn cause I’m going somewhere in the morning but like idk help one time at a gay pride parade this fugly old white man said me and my group stunk.. they were right but rude Baja blast old man OMG OKG OKG I wanna play overwatch so bad the dungeons of ranked fall for me pls I need this so bad but I need to sleep stopptowpsndiendjejdiwjaisbj AJAAJSJ mercy HELPP mercy mercy Baja mercy blast I was reading through my journal and why am I so weird using words like “vulnerable” please stop writing fan fiction I can’t bare reading this also I’m not telling anyone the context of that or like I put something like “I crave d so bad” like stop STOP STOP STOP I would never that’s disgusting apparently it taste like sour cream eugh also the texture would probably be weird.. hm.. ew wait actually ME FOR PRESIDWNR MAKE CASTRATION LEGAL!! No but seriously I do crave d really bad wait I’m really hrny rn stop stop stop I need to go to bed

L bye luv you all!!!! 🎀