#Shara writes

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Tommy tries not to stay too long because Mareep gets sad when she's lonely.

She can't tell him this - she's a sheep and all. But she shows it in the way she nuzzles her gentle head into Tommy's chest when he returns, as if she's trying to push out all those sharp and bunched up feelings that get stuck there. They're not bad feelings though. Not good feelings either.

Just feelings. A lot of fucking feelings.

But Tommy likes visiting the cabin. Even back when, it always felt so far removed from everything else. So quiet, not always in the positive sense. He loved it and he hated it. That seems to sum up about everything he remembers from that time.

(He went in once, the first time he visited. Not anymore. Everything was covered in dust, hollow and empty, and Tommy couldn't breathe for reasons beyond the stifled air.)

Being there doesn't hurt the same.

Tommy still marvels at that. Yes, it still hurts and yes, it always will. But there's more than the hurt now. He remembers the laughter and the stupid jokes and the bench and Henry and man, does it feel as if he's aged a decade. He hasn't. He's young. And there's so much ahead of him.

Then the snow shifts behind him with the soft crunching of footsteps. He turns around, and a person Tommy has thought about pretty much every other day for the last eight months is standing against the treeline.

"Hullo," Technoblade says, as if they have seen each other yesterday. He looks a little less exhausted, and a little less jumpy than Tommy has ever seen him before. Tommy's hand curls around the handle of his sword and then relaxes.

"Hey," he says. Then he swallows. "I didn't know you still came around here."

"I don't," Techno says. "Just came to pick up some stuff I left behind."

"Yeah?"

Techno walks around him in a little arch, and in a way that keeps him facing Tommy at least from the side, never the back. Tommy hates that this is who they are now.

And then Techno scoffs lightly, kicking at some rocks Tommy had been piling into a tower once when he was deep in thought. "Bruh, you're not ruining my property value again, are you?"

Automatically, Tommy laughs. Bright and sudden, and sincere. "Wha- Fuck you, you just said you don't live here anymore."

"I could be on my landlord arc," Techno says dryly.

Tommy should leave it at that. The part deep inside him that still feels raw and scared - as if he's sixteen again and the ocean is endless before him - recoils at all of this. But Tommy knows that part of him can be wrong, sometimes, in how it reacts to things. In how it refuses to embrace change.

"What have you been doing?" he asks. Techno watches him for a moment, a little guarded. He shrugs.

"Farmin'," Techno answers after that small second of hesitation. "Hibernating. Just doing my own thing, away from everybody. I'm done being hounded by people." He brushes some hair from his face, longer now than when he was living on this server. Tommy doesn't think he has never seen Techno without fresh scars or bandaged knuckles. It suits him.

"Sounds nice," Tommy says. He thinks about his little cottage, and Tubbo's honey, and how he's been starting to grow his own flowers.

"It is," Techno agrees.

Tommy leaves quickly after that. But when he returns two days later, there is a glint of round netherite hanging from one of the fence post. A compass with an emerald inlaid in the back, that points to a place very far away.

Tommy doesn't think he's quite ready to follow it. But someday he will be.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Okay here are the sicktember prompts, if anybody wants to send me requests (prompt + dynamic + general idea) I will start to write way ahead of time. I'm not sure how many entries I'll do yet, probably around 10 to 15 👉👈

All dynamics allowed, as well as all genres ranging from fluff to whump to dark sbi, just have them be Techno-centric you guys know me lmao

The Official Sicktember 2024 Prompts List

Event FAQ Text Post [Link to Post]

Past Prompts Text Post [Link to Post]

How to Submit Content Post [Link to Post]

Sicktember 2024 AO3 Collection [Link] *Collection closed until Sept. 1

** Text Version of the 2024 Prompts Can be Found Below.

“I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vise versa)

Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Campus/Con Crud

“Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.”

Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…)

Dizziness/Vertigo

Borrowed Hoodie

“The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker 

The Sniffles ™ 

Medieval Treatment

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung”

Mononucleosis

Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

"Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’"

Toxin/Poison

Brain Fog/Spaced Out 

“My body is one big ache”

Hypochondriac Tendencies 

Medication Bribery

Anaphylactic Response

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?”

Under a Spell

 Tales From the Waiting Room

Summer Flu

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

“This is non-negotiable"

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a Road Trip

Past Prompt of Your Choice! 

Alts

Hospital Bed

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

First Aid Kit

Flushed Cheeks

Doctor's Note

[nowritingonthewall]

Let me take your hand

Fandom: Star Wars

Character(s): modern!AU Poe, Shara Bey and Kes Dameron

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Summary: Sometimes all you need to make the pain a little more bearable is someone to take your hand, hold you gently, kiss you softly and tell you that they love you.

Words: 6900

Warnings: Hurt/comfort with a lot of hurt (!) in the beginning, aftermath of losing a parent (please please please don’t read if you fear that you might not be able to bear reading this!), reader celebrates Christmas, kind of spoilery if you haven’t read “Free Fall”

A/N: This was supposed to be a cute little spin-off of another Christmas story that spiralled completely out of control. 2023 was the third Christmas with this story living rent free in my mind and I was really determined to finally write and finish it this time before becoming really sick for two months. Even though it’s nearly Easter I hope that maybe one or two of you might still like it <3

As always, I apologize for not being a native speaker.

Christmas used to be Poe’s favourite time of the year.

There were presents, bright sparkling lights all over the city, the smell of freshly baked cookies, joyful songs on the radio, people being so much kinder than usual, chocolate glazed koyo berries and most importantly: both of his parents would be at home. Because Christmas was sacred.

Sure, presents were nice and everything, but sneaking into his parents’ bedroom before dawn on Christmas Morning, cuddling up to them under their warm blankets, lying safe and snug between them in a huge loving hug sandwich, knowing that for once there was no rush to get up and nothing to worry about because the day belonged to no one but their family?

There was nothing in Poe’s whole world that would ever be able to beat that.

Christmas was his favourite thing in the entire universe.

Even his very first memory was created on Christmas Eve. Shara and Kes would dance together at every possible (and impossible) opportunity they got, but that very first dance in the light of their Christmas tree on Christmas Eve was special.

It was as special to them as the song that had to accompany their dance: 'Let Me Take Your Hand' by Hera and the Rebels.

It was the song that had played on an old record player when they had met in an airplane hangar for the very first time. It had played when they had shared their first kiss, when Kes had proposed to his beloved Shara, when they had their first dance at their wedding, and when Shara had told Kes with happy tears in her eyes that they were going to be parents.

Music like a tender hug wrapping its loving arms around you, caressing your soul and soothing your heart, leaving you feeling like nothing in the world could ever hurt you.

Would you let me take your hand

And hold you gently

And kiss you softly

If I said I loved you

That Christmas Eve, as his parents began to sway in tune with the first few bars of the old forty-five crackling over the loud speakers, little Poe had no idea that he had just become part of a very long and love-filled Dameron Christmas tradition.

He was simply the happiest little boy, cuddled against his Dad’s chest, who held him gently yet safely close to his heart. With his Mom taking his hands in hers and making funny faces at him while singing along to the music, his eyes sparkled even brighter than the lights of the Christmas decorations around him.

As soon as the song was over, he wiggled his tiny feet and clapped his little hands in excitement, squealing giddily, “‘gain pwease!”

And his parents didn’t mind at all. With the record playing over and over again, they took turns kissing each other and placing the softest of kisses on their son’s forehead, cooing how much they loved him.

Poe couldn’t get enough of it.

On his eighth Christmas Eve, as Poe clung to Shara’s leg during their dance, he decided that part of him couldn’t wait to grow up and find his special someone to dance to their song. He vividly imagined how he would look at them the same way as Kes was looking at Shara.

Of course, his parents would still be there and enjoy dancing right next to him. He would do a show of being embarrassed when his Mom would try to ruffle his hair, because for some weird reason, grown-ups were supposed to hate it, even though he wouldn’t actually mind at all. And his Mom and Dad would love you nearly as much as he would and his parents would be so happy for their son to carry on their Christmas tradition.

If only he had known. If only he had known that this would be the very last Christmas with his Mom. Maybe he would have clung to her a little tighter, maybe he wouldn’t have nicked quite so many Christmas cookies, maybe he would have told her how much he loved her just one more time.

But then again, if he had known, it probably wouldn’t have been the most wonderful Christmas ever or the last time that he could remember his Dad looking truly happy before everything changed forever.

Only a year later it was hard to believe that any of those beautiful memories had been real at all.

Despite his insurmountable grief, Kes had tried his best to make this Christmas as magical for his son as it used to be. It was just that he had never quite gotten the hang of how Shara had always managed to make the Christmas tree and their apartment look so beautiful and festive and welcoming. And no matter how many Christmas lights he would string or how many candles he would light, it seemed like all their warmth and brightness had left when Shara did.

It was the night before their first Christmas without his Mom when Poe woke up to the most desperate stifled sobs coming from the living room. Full of worry, he stumbled out of bed and through the flat, the sinking feeling in his tummy growing heavier with each step of his bare feet on the ice cold floor tiles.

When he reached the door to the living room, the picture unfolding in front of him nearly tore is heart apart: The hunched over figure of his Dad lying under the Christmas tree, face hidden behind his hands, crying so violently his whole body was shaking.

Before even being able to form a single coherent thought, Poe had already crouched down on the floor right next to his Dad, trying to pull him into a hug – just like he knew his Mom would have done to comfort him.

His arms didn’t quite reach all the way around the package that his Dad had folded himself into but Poe tried to make up for it by pouring all the softness and warmth and tenderness from his big little heart into his words when he said, “I love you, Daddy! It’s gonna be okay!”

His Dad didn’t react. So Poe tried again, squeezing him even tighter this time but all it drew from Kes was another heart-wrenching sob.

But Poe wasn’t going to give up that easily. After all, just because his Mom wasn’t here with them in person, it didn’t mean that she didn’t celebrate Christmas with them. And if she was looking down at them from her cloud in Heaven among all the most beautiful angels in the universe (because there was no doubt for Poe, that’s exactly where his Mom would be), it would surely break her heart to see her two boys crying on Christmas Eve. And he couldn’t let his Mom down, could he? Not at Christmas.

And there was one thing left to try.

Hurrying over to the record player, he found what he was looking for exactly where his Mom had stored it away neatly last year. Ever so carefully, as if handling the most precious item in the world, he let the record slide out of its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. Slowly and gently, just like his Mom had taught him, he lowered the tone arm before turning back to his Dad.   

With the first few soft sounds floating across the room, Kes finally raised his head, looking up to where his son stood, holding out his hand for his Dad. As he slowly got on his feet, Poe took a step towards him and tried his best to put on a brave smile, his eyes encouraging and full of hope.

Kes looked at his son. And he looked at the record player. Then he walked straight past his son and with a cry of agony that made Poe stumble backwards with a start, Kes tore the record off the turntable and threw it to the ground with enough force to break it into a thousand pieces. Yet they were nothing compared to the millions of pieces that little Poe’s heart shattered into at this very moment.

As his father stormed out of the room, Poe kept staring at the broken remnants of the last happy memory of his family. Trying to understand what on earth had just happened. What had he done wrong?

Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the confusion, but he didn’t even notice how he began to shiver as the cold crawled up from the floor over his bare feet and under his thin pyjamas. Until he could no longer tell whether the numbness creeping into his heart and soul came from the cold or the growing ache in his chest. He had never felt more lost or lonely in his entire life.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered whether it would be possible to glue the pieces back together again. But as he knelt down and began to pick them up slowly, one by one, that last flicker of hope was extinguished quickly.

As he pondered over what to do, he spotted the stack of Christmas napkins that his Mom had bought last year, after Poe had insisted that the teddy bear pictured on them looked just like his beloved plushie Mr. Beebs. He had spent hours sitting right next to her, learning how to fold them into the most intricate shapes, just like his Mom had done, until he had declared excitedly that his Mom would never have to worry about folding a set of napkins for their guests ever again because now she had Poe to take care of that. Taking one of the napkins from the stack now, he could vividly remember the fondness in her eyes as her smile had outshone his proud little grin.

After spreading the napkin out on the floor, he piled the pieces of the record up onto it, carefully and gently, until even the tiniest of pieces had been accounted for. Looking around the room for something to tie the napkin bundle up with, his gaze fell upon Mr. Beebs sitting on the couch with his tiny bow tie around his neck. It didn’t seem right to take it, but Poe apologized to his teddy and promised that he would only borrow it for a little while.

Having the napkin tied neatly together, he got up off the floor, taking one last look at the Christmas tree. A source of warmth and comfort for as long as he could remember, its lights and decorations almost seemed like they were mocking him now. As his eyes began to wander along its branches, his gaze came to rest on the star at the top of the tree.

“I am sorry, Mommy,” he whispered.  

As Poe held the napkin bundle gently against his heart, the tears began to fall. Unseen and in silence, yet hot and burning.

He was still clutching the little bundle to his chest when he found himself crying quietly in his bed a little later. He held it even tighter when he could hear the soft footsteps of his father approaching.

“Poe?” Kes’ voice was so gentle, it was barely audible to his son.

“Poey, sweetheart… I am sorry! I am… I am so so so sorry!”

Staring at the wall in front of him, Poe couldn’t see how his father’s tears over losing the love of his life had turned into tears over the fear of losing his son. He couldn’t see how his father reached out his hand towards him, only to hesitate at the very last moment, too afraid that he would just make things worse.

He couldn’t see how Kes longed for nothing more than to hug Poe close to his heart and never let him go again, desperate to find a way to comfort his son without subjecting him to his own soul crushing pain.

All he could see, over and over again, was that moment when his father walked right past him to smash their record to pieces.

His father didn’t want to take his hand.

Determined that he didn’t want Kes to see him cry, Poe pulled the covers over his head. And just like he had wrapped the napkin around the broken pieces of the record, Poe could feel something else wrapping itself around his heart. Not nearly as gentle and careful, but way harder and tighter and indefinitely more painful.

His father didn’t want to take his hand.

It was the last time that either of them acknowledged the song. It was the last time that music was played in the Dameron household.

And Poe never danced again.

Sometimes he would dream of it, though. Holding someone in his arms and swaying to the soft rhythm of a melody while waiting for Christmas cookies to bake in the oven or the first coffee of the day to finish brewing. But it never felt quite right. As soon as that longing ache would make itself known, he would shove it back to where it came from. Burying it a little deeper every time. After all, life was not a flipping Disney Christmas movie.

Yet there was a part of him that never stopped trying to find the song again. Even more so during that time of the year. Whether it was at the Christmas markets or at the shops, as soon as the softest sound of music could be heard anywhere, Poe would strain his ears hoping against hope to hear that comforting familiar tune just one more time.

Now and then he would hum the melody to himself, especially in those moments when he missed his Mom even worse than usual.

More than once he found himself sliding into a panic when he seemed to stumble over parts of the melody or he needed a little longer to remember some of the words. Every time that happened, he feared another piece of the memory of his Mom might slip away.

One night, after waking up in cold sweat again, he frantically scribbled down the lyrics onto the next best sheet of paper he could find as if they might be lost forever if he didn’t write them down this instant. After taking a few moments to catch his breath, he carefully folded the sheet and placed it into the little wooden box in his nightstand, which held the napkin bundle and the record sleeve.

Over the years, there were a few people that he tried to confide in but his attempts always ended up with him being made fun of. So he gave up those attempts too, burying his feelings deep under the growing pile of pain and ache and longing. They were obviously too silly to share them with anyone.

Not to you, though.

When Poe and you were about to spend your first Christmas together, it had been several years since he had bothered to put up any proper Christmas decorations at all. So when you asked him excitedly whether you could put them up together, he really did it more for you than for him.

Though he couldn’t deny that your enthusiasm was more than a little contagious. You turned the whole thing into a proper little event with Christmassy snacks and hot cocoa and festive music. After a while he found your joy so infectious that it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Feelings that he hadn’t associated with Christmas for a long, long time.

He even sent both of you into a fit of giggles and laughter after somehow managing to completely wrap himself in tinsel rather than the Christmas tree.

And then you threw him completely off balance with one seemingly innocent little question: “So what’s your favourite Christmas tradition?”

Before he could tumble off the chair he was standing on, however, his instincts kicked in, making him fall back onto his standard go to answer: Chocolate glazed koyo berries. “My father had this really amazing way of turning them into the most delicious…” he began.

But it just felt wrong. Of course he loved his father’s chocolate koyo berries, he actually used to love them a lot. But there was something else. As he looked into your warm and loving eyes, something long forgotten tried to force its way up from the deepest pits of his heart. And try as he might, it refused to be pushed back down again this time.

Determined to keep it together, he turned away from you, biting his lips until they hurt. He was not going to cry. He was not going to ruin everything again.

“Poe? Hey… sweetie, your hands are shaking…”

Squeezing his eyes shut with enough force to give him a headache, he could hear the confusion in your voice turning into worry.

“Oh Poe, I am sorry, I should have known that this might bring back painful memories, I really shouldn’t have asked, I am so sorry…”

Trying to stifle the wave of sobs demanding to be let out, he shook his head vigorously, still refusing to look at you.

“No no no, you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just… it’s silly!” he choked up.

You paused for a moment before saying gently, “It doesn’t look like it’s silly to you?”

He didn’t resist when you took his trembling hands in yours and helped him to climb down from the chair. Not letting go, you carefully held them steady in your hands, drawing soothing circles on them with your thumbs, as Poe kept staring at the floor.

“You don’t have to tell me now, if it’s too much,” you tried to reassure him.

“No, I want to, I just…” Grunting in frustration, he broke away and began to rub at his eyes with the palms of his hands with increasing force as if the motion would somehow be able to rub those pesky and unwelcome feelings away.

Carefully taking his hands into yours once more, you slowly led them away from his eyes. As you cupped his face with your hands, tenderly caressing over his temples with your thumbs, he finally looked at you, revealing his sore eyes glistening with tears and all the pain and grief that lay beneath.

It broke your heart.

You hesitated, as you had to fight your own tears welling up inside of you now before asking softly, “Is this about your Mom?”

Poe nodded ever so slightly.

Your voice turned even softer. “Does it have anything to do with the little box you keep in your night stand?”

Of course you had seen the way that he looked at that box. You had seen how he would rest his hand on that box, how his expression would turn from soft to pained and to soft again. Now and then he had even seemed to be humming a soft little melody while gently caressing over the lid of the box. Yet despite all of your questions, it had never felt right to ask him about it before he was ready to open up to you.

Closing his eyes again, Poe took a few shaky breaths. Letting his fingers wander up your arms, until they came to rest on your hands still holding his face, he tried to ground himself, focussing his attention on you. Your kindness, your gentleness, your warmth.

“Do you really want to know?” he finally managed to ask before his voice broke again.

“I do,” you said gingerly. “Of course I do. But… I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’d have to tell me anything that you aren’t ready to share yet.”

Nodding slowly, he furrowed his brow, deepening the pained expression on his face. An even more overwhelming wave of sadness radiated from his eyes, spreading over his already grief-stricken features. He tried to open and shut his mouth a few times before giving up and taking you by the hand to lead you into the bedroom.

You knelt down on the floor right next to him while he opened the drawer of his nightstand to remove the little wooden box and carefully opened the lid, revealing its contents to you. You saw the record sleeve and the lyric sheet and the napkin bundle tied together with the bowtie borrowed from Poe’s old childhood teddy Mr. Beebs.

Taking a deep breath, Poe took the bundle out of the box and placed it on the floor in front of you, unwrapping it ever so carefully.

He hadn’t opened it in decades. The moment that the napkin came undone around the broken pieces of the record, the tight layer of repressed feelings and ignored pain and buried grief wrapped around his heart fell away with it. Until there was nothing left to hold back the swelling flood of tears.

As soon as the first desperate sob ripped through his body so violently that it threatened to take his breath away, you were there. Catching him, holding him, comforting him, sheltering him.

And Poe cried like he had never cried before.

“It’s not fair! It’s not flipping fair, it’s not… she should be here… she should still be here… here with us…”

Everything seemed to bubble up to the surface at once. Pain and anger and confusion and helplessness.

“I wanted to hug him, I… I just really needed to hug him and… and I wanted to, but… but… but I was too small and… and… how could he just smash it?”

You were barely able to make any sense of all his memory fragments and turbulent emotions that were demanding attention all at once, but that wasn’t important right now.

“He came to apologize that night but I couldn’t… I couldn’t… I didn’t want him to see me cry and I… I… I should have…”

As you held him gently in your arms, he clung desperately to you, sobbing helplessly against your shoulder.

“I just… I… I failed them. Both…”

“Oh, Poe,” you whispered as you buried your face in his curls. And even though you knew that he wouldn’t be ready to believe you yet, you added gently but firmly, “You didn’t fail anybody!”

Smoothing some damp curls from his forehead, you pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, when a new wave of tears began to stream down his face. Hot and desperate tears that had never been given a chance to dry, burning in his heart during all those years.

And now you were kissing them away. Softly. Every single one of them, even tough they were replaced by fresh ones immediately. Until sheer exhaustion made him collapse into your embrace.

As you cradled the back of his head, steadying him against your chest, rocking him gently back and forth, you knew that it wasn’t just your boyfriend crying in your arms. You held the wounded little boy, who couldn’t understand. Who blamed himself without even knowing what he had done wrong. Who hurt so deeply and yet would rather take care of everybody else around him before tending to his own wounds.

“I am here for you, Poe,” you cooed gently, hugging him tight. “I love you!”

And for the first time in decades, it felt like a few of the million shattered pieces of his heart were beginning to heal.

Unbeknownst to Poe, you made it your year’s goal to find the song for him.

The fact that Poe hadn’t been able to find it in all those years despite all his efforts, not even in the endless vastness of the internet, didn’t deter you in the slightest. Or so you thought. At least for the first eleven months of the year.

By the time December came around again, you were so close to admitting defeat that Poe began to worry about what brought you so low, even fearing that he might have been the one dampening your mood with his lack of Christmas spirit.

So, in an attempt to make up for that, he suggested taking you to the annual charity Christmas bazaar at your local school, hoping that a little Christmassy shopping spree for charity and the sparkly atmosphere of the Christmas lights might cheer you up again.

You tried not to get your hopes up, you really did. But the moment that Poe popped off to the restrooms and you found yourself stranded in front of a stall with several boxes of old forty-fives, you had to start browsing, of course.

Sorting swiftly through the records, you had gone through at least fifty of them, when your brain gave you a little jolt. You stopped. Going backwards very slowly, you looked at each of them again until you got back to the forty-second one. You carefully removed the record from the box. You read the title on the sleeve. You stared at it in disbelief. And you read it again. You shook your head. You read the title a third time. And despite your best attempts to stay calm, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a little scream that made the elderly gentleman behind the display ask in concern whether you were all right. It took every ounce of self restraint you could muster to keep yourself from throwing your arms around him and hug him until he turned blue. In the end, you hugged him anyway.

After handing the stall owner enough money to prompt him to ask you again whether you were all right, you hid the record in your bag and quickly hurried past the next few stalls, hoping not to give anything away.

You still weren’t able to keep the shine out of your eyes, though. Which Poe noticed immediately the minute that he caught up with you.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked raising a confused eyebrow.

Letting out a happy sigh that you weren’t able to contain, you smiled, “I’m just really looking forward to Christmas!”

His gaze softened as he pulled you towards you, placing a tender kiss on top of your head. Gently rubbing your noses together, his smile grew wider until it painted crinkles around his eyes.

As he rested his forehead against yours, he whispered, “Me too!” And for the first time since what felt like forever, he actually meant it.

You spent the better part of the remainder of the run-up to Christmas trying to come up with the best possible plan to present the record to him. Should you simply hide it in a pile of other gifts in his stocking, should you make him close his eyes while you put the record on, should you wake him up with the music on Christmas Morning or maybe something completely different? In the end you decided that you would leave it up to Poe because the last thing you wanted was to overwhelm him in any way or even cause him more hurt.

When you found yourself cuddling with him on the couch on Christmas Eve, however, it became increasingly harder for you to remain patient until Christmas Morning.

Lying half atop on you, Poe had completely melted into your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck, while you played with his hair. The ease and trust with which he relaxed in your arms melted your heart. You were just about to turn your head and place a gentle kiss to his temple, when he lifted his head.

“Are you okay, bups?” He asked, raising a worried eyebrow at you.

“Hmmm?” you mumbled a little absentmindedly. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re as tense as a loaded spring about to go off. And I mean that in a very non-euphemistic, sfw way. Although…” he wriggled his eyebrows, looking way too cute with his tousled hair curling itself into every possible direction, “I wouldn’t mind adding some ‘n’ into the mix a little later…”

You couldn’t help breaking into giggles, which made Poe grin in return. “That’s better,” he smiled, placing a sweet little kiss to your forehead before furrowing his brow again. “Wanna tell me why you are so nervous?”

You really hadn’t intended to spoil this peaceful moment but you also knew that Poe wouldn’t stop worrying until he knew what was up. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly tried to wriggle yourself free from underneath Poe to sit up, drawing some grunts of protest and a pout from him.

“I have a little surprise for you.”

Humming in a slightly more relaxed tone, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him again.

“And can we stay on the couch for that or do we have to transfer to the bedroom?”

You snorted, “I’ve clearly given you the wrong idea now.”

With another smile, you brushed a few stray curls from his forehead and left a soft kiss in their place.

“You can stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Getting up to fetch your little present from the hiding place in the bedroom, you swiftly returned and set down next to Poe before giving it to him.

It took a few moments for Poe to realize what he was holding in his hands. As they began to tremble, he couldn’t help but keep staring at the record.

“How… where did you…” he whispered.

You gently laid your hands on his before explaining softly, “Actually… you kind of led me to it yourself when you took me to the Christmas bazaar three weeks ago.”

He let out a small shaky laugh that turned into a soft sob.

You immediately began to rub his back in soothing circles, leaving tender kisses all over the side of his face until he began to lean into you.

“Would you like me to play it?” you asked him gently.

He slowly peeled his gaze away from the record to look at you. As his big brown puppy dog eyes began to sparkle, he slowly nodded as if in a daze. He had gotten so used to hearing the song only in his memory, had both dreaded and hoped for this moment over and over again. As you put the record on and the song began to float across the room, it felt too surreal for him to grasp.

The music sounded even softer than you had imagined it. And so much more comforting than Poe remembered.

It sounded like the warmth of his Mom’s hand caressing his face and his parents’ laughter and tickle fights and the smell of his Mom’s baking and Kes scooping him up to carry him on his shoulders and morning cuddles and running towards his parents’ embrace. Both of them holding out their hands for him.

Just like you did now.

“Dance with me?” you asked him softly. Warm and open and welcoming while still giving him all the room that he might need.

Poe’s tears fell more slowly this time. As you laid your arms around him, pulling him towards you, swaying both of you to the soft rhythm of the music, he didn’t fight the soft and shaky sobs that turned another layer of destructive pain and grief into hopeful feelings of comfort and familiarity and home.

His head found his place leaning on your shoulder as your cheek came to rest against his. You held him gently and at the same time so close that there seemed to be no room left for anything that might hurt him. And yet your embrace was so soft that he knew he could trust you with his wounded bare heart in your hands.

As he wept in your arms, you kept caressing over his curls, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his hairline until his tears began to mix with your own. The moment Poe noticed the wet streaks running down your face, his eyes widened in alarm and he quickly reached up to wipe your tears away. But you gently laid your hands on his and shook your head with a sparkly-eyed smile.

“Don’t worry about those, Poe. Not all tears are bad.”

And Poe’s eyes that had been sparkling with tears of pain and sorrow slowly began to sparkle with something else.

It might not have been quite what he had imagined the first time to be like. Dancing to his parents’ song in the light of the Christmas tree with his own special someone.

Yet as his sobs subsided to the gentle rhythm of your soft kisses to his face and your hands tenderly smoothing over his hair, right now in this moment, he felt like the luckiest person in the universe.

Except for one thing.

When he let out an involuntary sigh, you pressed one more kiss to the top of his head before asking, “Why don’t you call him? Ask him to come over for Christmas?”

“Who?” Poe raised his head in mild confusion.

“Your father?” you smiled.

“How did…” Trailing off and letting out another sigh, Poe began to shake his head. “Me and my father stopped doing Christmas years ago. I don’t even have his number.”

“Well, funny thing…”

As Poe began to raise his eyebrows, you allowed yourself to break into a mischievous little grin, making him smile through his tears.

“I spoke to Auntie Leia the other day, and…” you began.

“…she had his number and gave it to you?” Poe finished your sentence in only mild disbelief.

“Of course she did,” you nodded and smiled again. “I don’t know how but it’s like she knew.”

Poe shook his head, unable to suppress a soft giggle. “She always does.”

You hesitated a little before you asked him, “Did you know that your father keeps asking after you whenever he meets her?”

Sobering up immediately, Poe lowered his gaze to the ground, furrowing his brow. “No, I… I didn’t…”

“Hey…” Cupping his face and gently guiding him to look at you again, you asked, “I can call him for you if you don’t feel up to it?” Your eyes softened before you added, “And no, Poe… I don’t think that would be ‘silly’.”

Poe let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Could you do that for me…?”

So you did. And less than an hour later, Kes was standing at your door. His knock was so soft and cautious that you would have missed it, had you not been on your way to the kitchen at exactly that moment.

He was shivering from the cold as it looked like he hadn’t even bothered to take the time and find appropriate clothes for the freezing temperatures outside. Yet when you had introduced yourself and motioned quickly for him to come in and step into the warmth, he hesitated.

“Are you really sure that Poe wants to see me?” he asked full of doubt.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes he does. Of course he does! We just didn’t expect you to be here so early.”

“Oh… if you want me to come back later…”

“No, no, please… come in! You must be freezing.”

As Kes stepped into the light of your flat, you could see the clear remnants of tears on his face that had been hastily wiped away. And your heart broke for him just as it had for his son.

Poe had spent the last half hour bent over your record player, carefully removing remnants of dust from the needle and the grooves of the record. Deeply focused on his work, he gave a little start when you entered the living room, announcing brightly, “Look who is here, sweetie.”

“Hello, Poe!”

Turning around, Poe let out a soft, “Hey…” before clearing his throat and saying more firmly, “I am glad that you came.”

“Really?!”

His father’s reaction threw him off for a few moments. Was he really so utterly convinced that Poe wouldn’t want to see him?

Kes had to swallow a few times as he began to fumble nervously with the handle of the bag he had brought with him.

“Oh… these are for you!” he finally said, producing a huge bag of chocolate koyo berries.

Poe gasped in surprise. “But… these take days to make, how did you…?”

The smile that spread across Kes’ face somehow made him look even sadder. “I still make them every year, just in case you might... Never mind, you probably don’t even like them anymore, I just thought…”

Taking a step towards Kes, Poe reassured him, “No, no, of course I still love them, that’s really thoughtful of you… Dad!”

For a brief moment, Poe’s gaze flickered over to you and you started the record player. It took only a few notes for Kes to recognize the melody and his eyes widened, displaying a myriad of emotions.

“I… I’ve been searching everywhere,” he whispered. “I thought that maybe if I could find it, if I could just… you might…” Kes’ voice broke and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gain his composure.

When he opened them again, his son was standing right in front of him, offering his hand to his Dad. The look in his eyes was neither angry nor reproachful, but open and warm and encouraging with maybe a slightly pleading undertone. And it hit him full force just how much Poe reminded him of Shara in that moment.

Clasping a hand over his mouth, Kes let out a half-stifled shaky sob as his eyes began to glisten with tears. Taking a careful step towards his son, he took Poe’s hand into both of his. Placing the softest of kisses on his son’s hand, he gently held it against his chest right above his heart.

“Oh, Poey,” he whispered. “I am so... I am so…”

The moment his voice faltered again, Poe pulled his Dad into a hug. This drew a surprised little gasp from Kes before he threw his arms around his son, holding him closer than he had ever held him before. Like he was never going to let him go again. He knew that he might not be able to make up for lost time. But he could show Poe how much he meant to him right here and right now. Between violent sobs and desperate kisses to his temple and his cheek, Kes pulled his son close over and over again.

“Me, too!” Poe whispered through his own tears. “It’s okay, Dad… I love you!”

Maybe okay wasn’t exactly the right word. Maybe it was never really gonna be okay again. But as they both clung to each other, it certainly felt more okay than it had in a very long time. Maybe this could be the beginning of creating their new okay.

As his Dad’s desperate kisses slowly turned softer, he pulled back just enough to be able to gently cup his son’s face in his hands. “I love you, too, Poe. So so so damn much!”

You were just about to sneak out of the door to give them some room when Poe softly called out to you, “Hey… c’mere!”

They both invited you to join them with open arms. There may have been some feet casualties before the three of you found your rhythm but those were easily laughed away.

Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day and Poe was still dancing. Safe and snug in a hug sandwich between the two people that he loved more than anything else in this world and who loved him just as much in return.

As Poe’s face once again found his familiar place in the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “I wish my Mom could have met you. I really wish that she could have been here with us just one more time.”

“I think she is, Poe!”

Instead of an answer, he let out a little sob against your shoulder, hugging both you and his Dad a little tighter, as Kes gently ruffled his hair.

And when Poe looked up again and his gaze came to rest on the star at the top of the Christmas tree, he could have sworn that it shone brighter than he could ever remember.

Sometimes life may cause you wounds that seem to hurt so deeply that all the time in the universe wouldn’t be able to heal them.

And sometimes… sometimes all you need to make the pain a little more bearable is someone to take your hand, hold you gently, kiss you softly and tell you that they love you.

Thank you for reading 💜

[lennjamin-o7]

If you guys go and give this fanfic some love, I will update Death Shall Come tomorrow night.

[iusedtobethemoon]

Chloe's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "Just because I'm queer doesn't mean I'm in love with every beautiful girl that pays attention to me." - I Kissed Shara Wheeler by Casey McQuiston

good for you girl i CANNOT relate !!

[snelbz]

New chapter! Only one left! ❤️💚

The Holiday {9}

Ships: Nesta x Cassian / Aelin x Rowan

Written alongside @snelbz

Trope(s): Christmas, fluff, love at first sight, enemies to lovers, New Year's

Summary: Nesta has just been dumped. Aelin hates her job. Both women need an escape from reality and with Christmas quickly approaching, it's the perfect time for a getaway. After discovering a trend where people can swap houses for a non-traditional vacation experience, these two women decide to spend the holidays in each other's homes. With their houses comes a series of unique experiences and a couple of handsome suitors. It's time to see just how much a change of scenery and two weeks of Christmas solitude and romance can change a person.

A/N: One more chapter! x

Rating: M for mature - language, smut, substance use, etc. 18+.

Inspired by The Holiday (2006).

It was Christmas and Nesta sat alone on a stranger’s couch, drinking wine.

Well, she wanted to be drinking wine. She had a glass full of wine. Yet, her heart wasn’t really in it. Since Cassian disappeared that morning, leaving her on the stairs, Nesta felt…off. 

Yes, she had gone on vacation to get away from everyone — men especially. Her intention was to spend her vacation in solitude, having some sort of peaceful womanhood journey, but she found some hot guitar player that knew his way around a mattress instead. 

Worst of all? He was a good guy.

The words he spoke before he disappeared had been running through her mind all day. 

It wasn’t just meaningless sex.

I like you, Nesta.

She had no idea what he saw in her, considering she had been a bitch to him for a week then kicked him out after their night of mind-blowing sex, but he saw something.

And she didn’t deserve that.

She didn’t deserve his kindness, not after the words she had spat at him. Yet, she couldn’t help those words. She felt the way she felt, and after all that she had been through in the last year, she had a right to her feelings.

Even if those feelings were guarded. 

Tomas had destroyed her. It was stupid, and she knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t help how she felt. She had given everything to him, had loved him unconditionally and wanted to build a life with him, but then she found him in bed with a girl that lived down the hall from them. Before him, she had never been cheated on. She had heard of people being cheated on and had seen it in the movies, but the reality of it was worse than she could have ever imagined. The second she had caught him in bed with someone else, her heart had broken. Shattered. She had never felt as lonely and unloved, uncherished, as she did in that moment. 

She never wanted to feel like that again. 

When Cassian had made his confession that morning, it had terrified her. When she woke up next to him still there, it had terrified her. Every time she had been mean to him and he didn’t disappear, it had terrified her.

Cassian scared the hell out of her. 

But what scared her more was how she felt when she was around him. Once she let her guard down, she could tell what a genuine person he was.

With a groan, Nesta fell back on the couch. She probably owed him an apology. No, she knew she owed him an apology. Did it really matter, though? Perhaps it was better this way. She would be gone in a day, and maybe it would be best if their last interaction was so heartbreakingly cruel on her part. Maybe it would be easier that way.

It would be better if he remembered her that way. She would remember him at his best, he would remember her at her worst.

A knock on the front door of the townhouse had Nesta sitting up, one hand braced on the back of the couch. There were still only a few people who knew where she was. Barring another inappropriate delivery from her sisters, there was only one person it could really be. As she looked towards the door, she could tell from the silhouette who it was.

For a moment, she hesitated, debating on answering it. Even with her doubts, she pulled herself up off the couch and meandered toward the door.

When she opened it, she was greeted by Cassian, who held up a series of plastic containers, filled with food.

“Before you say anything,” Cassian began, just as Nesta opened her mouth, “I promise not to intrude. I only wanted to bring some leftovers. We get a little excited on holidays and make way too much food.”

Nesta couldn’t help but chuckle as she observed everything in his arms. “I see that.”

He nodded, his eyes on hers as they softened. “Well, I just wanted to drop these off. Even if you don’t eat it, we still have enough to last all three of us at least a week, so don’t feel too bad about brushing it aside.”

He held out the containers and Nesta blinked at them.

“It’s just food,” Cassian said when she didn’t take it. “I promise I didn’t poison it.”

Nesta huffed a laugh again. He said the most ridiculous things. “Would you mind putting them on the table?”

She had barely gotten through the question when Cassian stepped inside and went to the kitchen, placing it all on the table. He unstacked them and laid them out before turning back to Nesta, hands in his pockets. “You leave tomorrow?”

Nesta nodded, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

“Well, travel safe,” he said, and she knew he meant it more than a simple pleasantry. 

They stared at each other for a minute before Cassian gave her an awkward nod and headed for the door.

“Do you want to stay?” Nesta blurted, staring at his back. Cassian stilled and slowly turned to face her. “I know you’re probably stuffed, but—“

“I could eat.” That cocky grin made its return.

His cocky grins and his smirks were so similar yet elicited such a different reaction in her. When he grinned at her like that, she wasn’t able to breathe properly. She forgot how to speak and couldn’t look away. When he smirked… Well, it was pretty much the same reaction, but it also irritated her in the best way.

She pulled out two plates and set them down at the table. While he started scooping and spooning foods onto their plates, Nesta retrieved her glass of wine and poured one for Cassian.

She smiled as she sat down across from him. This was an olive branch of sorts. It was nice. They had barely spoken yet, but there was something different in the atmosphere of the night. The sexual tension of the night before was gone, but there was also a somber note.

She would be leaving tomorrow, likely to never see him again.

They ate in a peaceful quiet, and Nesta had to admit that she liked it. She liked how casual it was, how the awkwardness faded. 

Cassian cleaned his plate quickly and leaned back, watching Nesta politely cut up her turkey. 

“Don’t watch me when I eat,” she murmured, taking a bite.

Cassian chuckled. “I want to look at you while I can.”

Nesta could feel her cheeks warm and she set down her fork. “Always the flirt.”

“Sorry,” he said, in a way that told her he was very much not sorry. 

Another moment of silence passed before Nesta said, “I’m sorry. About this morning.”

Cassian shook his head. “I’m sorry if I made it weird.”

“You didn’t,” she promised. “You just…surprised me.”

“Surprised you?”

“By being kind.” She shrugged. “By wanting to stay.”

Cassian studied her for a long moment. She hated the intensity of his gaze. She tried not to squirm beneath his stare. “I hate that there’s a guy out there that’s made you surprised by that.”

Although Tomas’s face flashed through her mind, Nesta had had plenty of one night stands with less than charming men who weren’t so kind, either. 

And none of them had ever wanted to stay in the morning.

Cassian had no idea how different he was, how good of a heart he had. 

Nesta thought she would meet him halfway. “Would you like to know why I came here?”

“I thought it was to be alone at Christmas,” Cassian said, prompting her further.

“Yes,” Nesta began, slowly, “but the reason that I wanted to be alone was because it was the first year in a long time that I wasn’t spending a holiday with my boyfriend. I’d been with a guy for a while and it ended…poorly earlier this year. Then the thought of being around my sisters, both who have more Christmas spirit than anyone I’ve ever met, just seemed overwhelming when I wasn’t feeling very cheery myself.”

Cassian sat patiently, listening. “What happened? With the guy.”

Nesta took a deep breath before meeting Cassian’s eye. “Found him in bed with someone else.” 

The townhouse was quiet around them, the sound of the fireplace crackling from the living room. She’d looked down at her plate as soon as she’d admitted the truth and she didn’t know what expression she’d find when she looked back up at him. She wasn’t expecting to see fire blazing in his hazel eyes. It was a different fire than that of last night. That was a low simmer, something that had been waiting under the surface. All it needed was a spark. This fire needed no spark to consume her.

“He was a fucking idiot.”

Nesta didn’t know why but his blunt words made her laugh out loud.

Cassian, clearly not expecting her fit of giggles, raised his eyebrows.

Once she regained her composure, dabbing under her eyes, she nodded. “He was a fucking idiot.”

A smile, genuine and sweet, broke across Cassian’s face. She hasn’t seen that smile often and if she had to choose between that, his cocky grin, and his smirk, there was no real decision.

She didn’t realize she was staring until his smile softened and he cocked his head. “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

“Even after all I put you through?” She whispered.

“Because of all you put me through,” he said, and leaned across the table to take her hand. 

“Well,” Nesta said, weaving her fingers through his, “if you ever find yourself in the mountains of Terrasen, give me a call.”

That smile returned as he nodded. “Okay.”

They sat at the table, talking and laughing until late into the night. Their hands never left one another’s.

<.>.<.>.<.>

Rowan was spending the day with his daughter, which Aelin knew he would and expected nothing less. Still, when he had left early that morning before the sun rose, it was hard to see him go. Their night together had been nothing short of perfection and she would do anything to relive it.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a possibility, so Aelin tossed a few logs in the stove and started her Christmas the way she did every year: a huge breakfast that she would never finish. Crispy bacon and cheesy eggs, fresh fruit and sweet yogurt, delicious sausage and fluffy biscuits. By the time Aelin had finished cooking, she was hungry enough to eat all of the bacon and most of the fruit. She was lounging on the couch with a mimosa in one hand and a romance novel by her favorite author in the other when her phone rang.

She held her breath as she reached toward where it sat on the coffee table. There was no denying that she wanted it to be Rowan and that only made her impending flight home tomorrow more harrowing. When she flipped the phone over and saw her best friend’s name, she released the breath in a whoosh of air.

“Merry Christmas, Lys,” she greeted, before the phone was even to her ear. It had been days since she’d spoken to her best friend and while she was enjoying her escape from reality, it didn’t mean she didn’t miss certain pieces of it.

“Merry Christmas,” she sang, and Aelin knew without even asking that her best friend had loved every second of her day.

Since Lysandra and Aedion had gotten married, they’d gone all out for Christmas. That only amplified when Lysandra got pregnant. Now, as Lysandra was seven months along, it was their last Christmas as a party of two.

“Was your holiday in solitude everything you hoped it would be?” She asked, as Aelin plopped back down on the couch.

With a sigh, Aelin said, “Yeah.” She wasn’t really sure how to answer that question. It was more loaded that Lysandra even realized.

On the other end, Lysandra snorted. “That sounded promising. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Aelin said, a little too quickly. “Tell me about your day.”

Just to humor her, Lysandra went on and on about her Christmas with her husband. She was certain to be detailed so that Aelin wouldn’t have any follow up questions before she finished her story and said, “Tell me about yours.”

Aelin wasn’t sure where to begin. With Rowan making love to her in the middle of the night or with the breakfast that she made for herself that could have fed ten people?

“It was…good.”

Silence rang from the other end before Lysandra asked, “Good? That’s all I get?”

Sighing, Aelin decided she could only keep Lysandra in the dark for so long. “I haven’t exactly spent it in solitude.”

“What does that mean?” She could practically see Lysandra pacing. For someone who looked like she was smuggling a volleyball under her shirt, she was still getting around wonderfully. Aelin only hoped she’d be as graceful as Lysandra was when she was pregnant one day.

Rowan’s smiling face flashed in her mind unbidden and Aelin was momentarily stunned into silence at the direction of her own thoughts.

“I mean, I haven’t been alone all that often,” she admitted, taking a sip of her coffee, hiding behind her cup, despite the fact that her best friend was two-thousand miles away.

Lysandra’s reply was much louder than Aelin expected. “You hooked up with a hot, foreign dude?!”

“She what?!” Aedion’s voice was faint, but Aelin still let her head fall into her hand.

“Ignore him, he’s putting together a swing for the baby,” she went on. “I need details.”

Aelin heard Aedion say something that sounded a lot like I don’t.

With a groan, Aelin shook her head. “Go into a different room, please. My cousin doesn’t need to be scarred.”

Lysandra snorted but Aelin heard her panting as she hurried down the hall. “Fine. In my bedroom. Spill.”

Aelin sighed, eyes falling shut. Rowan’s face appeared in her mind once more. “Yeah…I met someone.”

“And?” Lysandra pushed.

Aelin didn’t know how to describe Rowan. He was indescribable. Perfection didn’t begin to cover it, and just when Aelin was about to start with their first awkward interaction, she smiled to herself. “His name is Rowan.”

“Rowan.” The way Lysandra said it was like a secret that was begging to be set free. “Okay. Tell me about Rowan.”

Aelin did.

She told Lysandra about his kindness and all he had done to help Aelin have a nice, warm stay. She told her about their dates at the diner, and about how Aelin showed up at his house, thinking he was on a date, only to find out that he had a super amazing kid. She told her about the tree lot, and about their night together, and the countless orgasms that followed.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Aelin said, finishing up her story. “I came here for solitude, and now I’m…”

“Smitten?” Lysandra offered, and Aelin knew she was grinning.

She offered one more kernel of truth, one that even she was struggling to believe. “I’m more than smitten, Lys. The idea of coming home tomorrow, of never seeing him again��� I don’t like it.”

“And what about him?” Lysandra asked, slipping into therapist mode. “Do you think he feels the same way?”

She recalled the reverent look he gave her after they’d finished the night before. Neither of them had said anything, but his eyes said what his lips couldn’t. “I think so.”

“Then I think you need to go tell him.”

Her voice was so matter of fact that Aelin’s eyebrows lowered and she pulled the phone away to look at it. Shaking her head, she fit the phone between her ear and shoulder again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is if you let it be,” Lysandra explained. “Who cares if you’ve only known him for two weeks? Who cares if you live in different time zones? You deserve to be happy, Ace, and this is the happiest I’ve heard you in years.”

Aelin let her words sink in. This was the happiest she’d been in years and it wasn’t just because of Rowan. This was the longest she’d gone without hearing from Arrobyn in years and it was freeing. Her vision clouded as she blinked away tears.

Clearing her throat, Aelin said, “I can’t very well go bust in and interrupt Christmas morning with his daughter.”

“Maybe not,” Lysandra agreed, “but you do have plenty of day left. Let him have his time with the kid, then drive your pretty little ass on over and tell him how you feel. You can’t let a good one get away.” 

Aelin wiped a tear from her cheek. She felt ridiculous for crying but she couldn’t help it, didn’t want to help it. They were tears of joy, tears of longing. Tears of hope.

“And if he doesn’t feel the same?” Aelin asked, quietly.

“Then you went for it anyway,” Lysandra said, matching her tone. “But something tells me he feels the same way, babe. A man does not make love to you like that without feeling a certain sort of way.”

Aelin knew she was right.

She had no doubt how Rowan felt.

“I love you,” Aelin said, taking a deep breath.

“Love you more,” Lysandra promised. “Merry Christmas.”

After they hung up, Aelin spent some time cleaning the cottage and packing up her belongings. After an afternoon shower, she got ready and changed her outfit twice before deeming a pair of jeans and a sweater acceptable life-altering clothing.

One last time, just as the sun was starting to set over the Staghorn Mountains, she swiped the keys to Nesta’s little, blue car and blasted the heat before backing out of the drive and heading up the mountain. The sun had come out today and despite it still being colder than any Velaris winter she could remember, the road was finally clearing up. It only took her a few minutes before the rustic cabin was coming into view and Aelin parked next to the truck in the driveway. She sat in the car, debating if this was a bad idea, if she should put it in reverse, go back to the cottage and pretend she’d never met Rowan Whitethorn.

But then the door flung open and all Aelin could see was shining silver hair and an adorable grin. “Miss Aelin!”

Aelin smiled as she got out of the car and Sutton bounded down the stairs. She crashed into her, wrapping her arms around Aelin’s waist. She hadn't been expecting such a forceful greeting, but she wasn’t able to stop the smile from growing on her face or her arms from going around the girl before her.

“Merry Christmas,” Sutton said, beaming up at Aelin. “I asked daddy if you were going to come see us, but he said you were probably busy. He’s going to be so surprised you’re here.”

The girl began to pull Aelin towards the house and up the porch stairs, but Aelin hesitated only briefly before crossing the threshold. “You didn’t tell him I was here?”

She shrugged, little shoulders rising and falling beneath her silver locks. “I was too excited.”

Trying not to focus on the rush of nerves that had just flooded her body, Aelin let Sutton drag her inside and shut the door behind them.

“Daddy!”

A door upstairs opened and closed, and then Rowan was hurrying down the stairs, coming to a slow halt when he saw Aelin standing just inside the doorway. He wore sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Aelin decided that she liked him casual.

A light came into his eyes as he looked from Aelin to Sutton and crossed his arms. “What have I said about answering the door?”

“Not to,” Sutton muttered, looking at the floor.

“Next time you come get me,” he said, then looked back to Aelin. “Although I’m glad we have a guest.”

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced,” Aelin said, hurriedly. “I just…I leave tomorrow and was worried I wouldn’t be able to see you again before I go.”

Rowan opened his mouth to reply, but Sutton said, “Can Miss Aelin stay for Christmas movie night, daddy?”

Aelin hesitated but Rowan only smiled. “If she wants to.”

“Oh, please!” Sutton yelled, jumping up and down. “We’re watching the Grinch.”

Well, she couldn’t say no to that, even if she wanted to. “I’d love to.”

Sutton ran through the house excitedly as Rowan finally finished descending the stairs. He stepped closer to Aelin and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Aelin whispered, as a cabinet in the kitchen slammed shut and the sound of out of tune Christmas carols carried to them.

Rowan tugged on her sleeve, closing the distance between them as he gave her a soft kiss. It was sweet and innocent and over as quickly as it began, yet it woke something up inside of Aelin. She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, couldn’t deny that she loved him.

They stepped apart as Sutton’s little footsteps hurried back down the hall. “Daddy, the soup is done!”

Rowan gestured towards the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“We do this every year,” Sutton explained to Aelin, pushing her step stool around the kitchen and pulling out everything they would need for dinner. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Sounds delicious,” Aelin replied, sitting down in the spot she’d sat the night she’d joined them for pizza. As Sutton brought her a napkin and spoon, she asked, “What did Santa bring you, Sutton?”

Her eyes went wide and the entire time Rowan was making grilled cheese sandwiches, Sutton regaled Aelin with an in-depth breakdown of each and every present she received. It spilled over into dinner itself and Aelin couldn’t help but smile at the young girl as she tore off a chunk of her sandwich and dipped it into her soup.

Every few seconds, Aelin could feel Rowan’s eyes lingering on her and she would look up and share a secret moment with him. It felt right. All of it felt right, being there with Rowan, with Sutton, eating soup in the kitchen on a cold, snowy Christmas night.

After dinner, they all snuggled up on the couch to watch The Grinch. Rowan and Sutton knew nearly every word, which Aelin typically would find annoying but now found charming and cute as hell. They had almost made it to the end when Sutton fell asleep on the couch and Rowan carried her to bed.

He was only gone for about ten minutes but Aelin found those ten minutes daunting. When he came back, she would tell him, would confess her feelings before going back to Nesta’s and leaving in the morning.

When Rowan came back, he found Aelin frowning on the couch and his joyous demeanor faltered. “What’s wrong?”

Aelin blinked, not even realizing he had come back into the room. As he sat down next to her, she shook her head. “Just lost in thought. I had fun tonight.”

“I did, too,” he said, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I didn’t want to impose,” she admitted, settling closer to him. “But before I left, I had to…”

The words got stuck in her throat. I had to tell you that I love you. She hesitated for a second, not wanting him to notice her lapse and instead said, “I had to see you one last time.”

“I’m glad you did.” The movie played on in the background, the exciting conclusion to a heartwarming story, and as he leaned in to press his lips to hers, Aelin thought it was fitting. She’d come all this way to get away from her everyday life. She expected rest and relaxation and a chance to take a break. Falling in love hadn’t been in the plans.

Rowan pulled away, just enough to speak. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Nine,” she breathed. “I have to be at Orynth International at seven-thirty.”

That was pushing it, knowing she was far from the only one traveling after the holidays, but any earlier might kill her.

His eyes found the clock on the mantle. It was just after nine.

“Twelve hours,” he whispered, brushing hair off her face. “Twelve hours until you leave and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”

“I love you.”

The words burst out and for a second, Aelin wasn’t even sure she’d said them. As she took in the look on Rowan’s face, she knew she had.

For a moment, he said nothing. She couldn’t quite place the series of emotions that ran across his face. Her heart was racing and she had the sudden need to puke, but she would stand her ground. She said her piece, her truth. Swallowing, she watched and waited.

Until she couldn’t wait any longer.

“I know that’s sudden, and we haven’t known each other long.” She had a feeling this was the start to endless nervous rambling, but it couldn’t be stopped. “And I know we may never see each other again, but I have been happier in the last couple of weeks than I have been in a long, long time…and last night was perfect. I’m sorry if—”

“I love you too.” His words were soft, but there was a fierceness in his gaze that told Aelin the whole truth. He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “All I’ve been able to think about is you leaving and it’s been tearing me apart.”

Dropping her forehead to his chest, Aelin tried to will the tears forming in her eyes away. “I didn’t mean to fall for you. I wasn’t even expecting you.”

“And you think I was?” Rowan’s voice was full of laughter. “I was very content to continue the single dad lifestyle for a few more years.” He tilted her face up to his again. “But then this headstrong, brash girl from the city shows up and turns my entire world on its axis. And I know I should be thinking of Sutton before all else, but all I can focus on is that I don’t want you to get on that plane tomorrow.”

Aelin closed her eyes, but not fast enough to stop those traitorous tears. “I don’t want to go,” she breathed. “But I have to.”

His thumbs swiped over her cheeks, catching the tears in their tracks. “I know you do. We’ll figure something out, even if it’s not the easiest solution.”

Her eyes opened and found his, even as his thumb traced her bottom lip. “We will? You don’t want to…let this go?”

Rowan leaned in, just barely brushing his lips over hers. “Now that I’ve found you, fireheart, I don’t ever want to let you go.”

He kissed her then and for just a little while, they pretended she wasn’t flying home tomorrow. That the perfect couple weeks they’d had together wasn't about to end and fling them both back into the real world.

But they still had tonight.

[dio-icarticaae]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron & Rey, Finn & Rey (Star Wars) Characters: Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Rey (Star Wars), Shara Bey, Kes Dameron, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Yoda (Star Wars), Phasma (Star Wars), Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux Additional Tags: Cinderella AU, fairytale AU, Prince Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars) as Cinderella, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars) Series: Part 2 of Finnpoe Week 2024 Summary:

Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived with the family of nobles that took over his parents' farm after their untimely death. That family was not a happy one, and they wanted the boy to be just as miserable as them.

Then there was a ball thrown by the King and Queen, as an opportunity to meet the Prince.

Or: Cinderella AU, with Cinderella!Finn and Prince!Poe, for @finnpoefanevents Finnpoe Week 2024 Day 2: Fairytale

[pickafandomanyfandom]

Okay hear me out

I kissed Shara wheeler from smiths perspective called “I Dated Shara Wheeler” and it takes place after the events of IKSW. The books goes through his identity and gender struggles, his relationship, and his life in college playing football and just being himself. Ofc there would be inclusion of Chloe and Shara just like in IKSW but it wouldn’t be focused on them.

The cover (like IKSW) would have smith but it would be him looking down at Rory’s leather notebook, blushing, with flowers in his hair. I feel like the background would be blue but idk. (I may draw it, idk)

I would KILL for more smith and it would add a book more gender oriented into the CMQ universe after “the pairing” comes out.

[cashandprizes]

WIP Wednesday - "a gossip girl moment iykyk"

Holy shit - if you can believe it I have a WIP to post! I got possessed Sunday morning while I was rotting in bed riding the high of getting zapped the night before and wrote 900 words of Aaron/Smartass meet-cute turn meet-ugly (maybe that's not the right term. whatever. who cares.) (me. i care.)

@romirola thank you for tagging me and sorry this is super late! tagging @autisticempathydaemon @mr-laveau @penncilkid @zozo-01

Credit to @mr-laveau for letting me snatch up their Aaron and Smartass (Shara, she/her/hers pronouns, my WIFE) for this fic because I am pretty sure it made Aaron/Shara as a personal attack to me specifically. I can't improve perfection, sorry.

Anyway ummmmmm here it is! As usual, I don't write things that are safe for work so minors DNI, take a fruit snack on the way out.

CW: mentions of sexual content including BDSM/Kink, this fic is hilarious to me specifically

And they did. It was a good night, the memories of his hands skirting over her ribs colored with wistfulness and longing and the knowledge that she had gone home floaty and light and used her vibrator two times until it had died. He had warmed her up with the heavy thuds of a flogger and the even timber of her voice, but she slipped into that space with the rhythmic stings of the thin bamboo cane on her thighs. After he had rubbed ointment on her nicely forming welts and massaged her shoulders, she'd rested her head in his lap as they debriefed and talked. She would be sure to contact him if she felt she was dropping, she had a plan for support if she was dropping. Yes, she was pretty sure she would ask to do another scene. Yes, she wanted pictures of her back and thighs covered in bright marks from his handiwork.

They'd messaged that Saturday and Sunday, discussing their next scene and scheduling. It had seemed so perfect. Monday morning, she rubbed ointment on her ass and thighs, gotten dressed, and walked into work. She'd greeted her new coworkers, met with the office manager, and waited for her new manager at her new office job at Vesta at her new desk. "Thank you for your patience, I was wrapping up a phone call with a client. Shara, I'm Aaron." She turned around and stood up, reaching out automatically for a handshake, only for them to both be frozen.

Long, thick black hair, pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. His eyes were wide and the dark circles were new, but she recognized the glasses and the faint scar under his eye. He cleaned up nice in a suit, crisp white button down with a green tie and sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose forearms she knew were powerful from experience. Not so simple then, with [Aaron's username], actually Aaron, her new manager standing in front of her with his welts tingling on her ass.

[secondstar-acorn]

i kissed shara wheeler is one of my favourite books of all time and these passages are making me go fucking feral

[razrogue]

WIP Whenever

Was tagged by @coldshrugs and @omgkalyppso (thank you both!!! 💜💜)

No obligation tagging: @bhaalbaaby @we-staybhaalin @eeldritchblast @saberstormotaku @mightymizora @tragedybunny and anyone else who sees this, consider yourself tagged!!! Tell me about what you're working on 👀

So like 95% of the drafts lately have been smut so have a peek at a not entirely smutty part I'm poking away at:

As he reached for the last paper, her muscled calf slowly entered his view. He stopped and watched her foot as it began tapping against the floor, blocking him from grabbing the parchment. Gale focused on the jade stones hanging from her anklet as they clinked against each other, audibly swallowing as he waited for her next move.

"Mr. Dekarios…"

The way his name rolled off her tongue, languidly wrapped in a husky seductive tone, he could feel his thin robe starting to cling to him as sweat started beading across his back.

Gale could barely manage a response as his thoughts grew increasingly occupied by far more than the theories he had been chipping away at, "...yes…yes my sweet?"

Shara leaned over, her hand reached into his loose tresses, firmly grabbing a handful as she gently pulled his head up.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

So, concept for a dark SBI au with that trope I mentioned about SBI literally 'humanizing' Techno.

All of SBI are superheroes. They work for the hero association.

Phil is the oldest on the team. He joined the hero association very early on, wanting to be part of something genuinely exciting and new. And he got to witness firsthand how the association started out with such good intentions, but quickly went the way of all operations that have government and money involved. Despite this, he stays on. Because he wants to make a difference.

Wilbur, his only son, followed in Phil's footsteps. He's a bit of a 'the ends justify the means' guy and does the hero work mostly because he thinks it's fun, but Phil is just proud his son is having a good time while also helping people.

Tommy, youngest on the team, is a real hero. He wants to save people. He's excitable and eager and quick on his feet, and was put in the team because he needs more experienced heroes to balance him out and learn.

And then there's Techno.

Techno is a little different, in that he never chose to become a hero willingly like the other three did. He was raised to be one (think baby experimented on by the association to give him powers, or perhaps just an orphan who was taken in by them when he showed potential). Techno doesn't mind being a hero, he's good at it. He has a strong sense of justice, he's competitive, he likes the hero work itself. It's just that being a hero is also all he's ever known.

The association raised him to be their strongest weapon, their greatest asset.

SBI is pretty insubordinate at times, and cut corners when it comes to the association's protocol. While they deliver good work they also like to do it their way. The association places Techno in their team as the fourth member, hoping that Techno's general sense of duty and calm-under-pressure attitude will do SBI some good.

They will come to regret this decision.

All four of them grow close, and over the span of a few years turn into more of a found family than coworkers. And as this happens, it becomes impossible for SBI not to notice how the association treats Techno differently. He's often pushed harder, and reprimanded worse when things do go wrong. He overworks himself and has been taught to never ask for help, preferring to deal with stuff by himself, even when injured or sick. He's stubborn as a mule too, so he'd never admit this was an issue. When Techno isn't working with them, he's either doing other stuff for the association or training. Techno has no life outside of hero work.

Techno does admit sometimes in conversation that there's other stuff he'd like to do. Maybe in another world where he does not have these powers, he'd be a history or English major. He'd like to try fencing, or gardening, or the violin. He'd read more.

But it is what it is.

SBI disagrees, and try to push Techno (unsuccessfully) into thinking about himself more. The more they start to see Techno as a person, the more it seems like the association doesn't.

Eventually, Phil even goes all the way to the top, complaining to the higher-ups about Techno's situation. They smile wryly, and suggest that maybe Phil has reached an age where hero work isn't for him anymore. He should take their offer of early retirement, before an incident happens and forces Phil to be dishonorably fired.

Phil is outraged, but he does take the offer because he has no choice. Wilbur and Tommy quit on the spot, equally pissed. They want to find Techno and convince him to do the same, but there's a small issue.

Techno doesn't have the same type of contract as them.

While SBI can leave, Techno can't. The hero association owns him in all ways that matter.

Obviously, the association is also quick to kick SBI out and cut off all contact. They tell Techno that Phil asked them to retire because he didn't want to be a hero anymore. And that Tommy and Wilbur chose to quit, not wanting to be on the same team as Techno without Phil around. Techno is very confused. Especially as not long after, SBI returns... as villains.

Now Techno feels confused AND betrayed.

Meanwhile, SBI will stop at nothing to get Techno back, even if it means gradually slipping further and further into villainy. They're completely disillusioned with the hero association anyway. Techno is strong, outpowering even all three of them. It takes a lot for them to finally kidnap Techno after several failed attempts. And when they do, Techno is going to fight them every step of the way. Not to mention the hero association is not going to let them take their treasured weapon easily.

Techno keeps insisting that they're in the wrong, that he'll get away from them, that being a hero is all he's good for, all he's made for. As long as he has these powers, he has an obligation to use them and be a hero.

SBI agrees.

As long as Techno has these powers, he will never be free. He'll never stop seeing them as a duty, and the association will never stop trying to take Techno from them.

Good thing that they've been working on a little something. A serum that will nullify Techno's powers forever. And then he doesn't have to worry about a thing anymore. SBI will take care of him.

Losing his powers is the only way Techno will be happy, even if he doesn't realize that himself.

As they prepare to inject him, they tell Techno what they're about to do. Techno is angry and horrified, and tells them that if they do this, he will never forgive them.

Phil just smiles and says that's a risk they're willing to take.

[uitzinnigmp3]

i find that everything i am is everything i should be (i don't need to run away)

[message from rory heron: 15mins away! meet u there??] Shara looks at Chloe, who looks seconds away from saying various, very non-Christian swear words. “We’re not making it to the place in time, are we?” Chloe pauses for a second to collect herself. Then she sighs. Her thumbs start flying over the keyboard of her phone. “I swear, when will they finally start acting like actual gays and start showing up late to everything,” she mutters, and presses send. [chloe green: running late sryyyy can yall come to mine first?] [chloe green shared their live location] Chloe puts her phone in the back pocket of her shorts. “So,” she says, opening the bathroom cabinet and grabbing her make-up pouch. “Black or pink eyeliner?” or, it's hard to shake habits when you've had them all your life. but it's possible, one step at a time. [read on ao3]

so!! i finally finished my iksw fic i hope people like ittttt this has been a long time coming, i became obsessed w this book in early july ? and here we are with an url and a fic. wow. anyway read my fic pls its rlly good i promise <3

[cukrkandl]

okay my friend is reading i kissed shara wheeler and it made me remember how much i liked it and now i'm thinking ✨a marylily au✨

[monocytogenes]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

A bit of angst from the Pravin and Theron fic, featuring the main ship (though believe me, there'll be a little something-something between Pravin and Theron too)--Pravin, in the midst of stim withdrawal and actively avoiding discussing his insecurities with Shara, dreams about a time when he physically couldn't tell her what was up. Hurt/comfort ensues.

“Did you make contact?” His tongue felt sluggish in his mouth, even as his heart hammered, nerves wound tight enough to break. “Yes. I spoke to Kothe.” “How did it go?” “As planned.” Not the words shrieking behind his eyes; not even close. “He—he—” “Cipher.” Shara’s features were all concern, her gaze that searching squint, trying to parse meaning out of his stammer. “Is something the matter?” I need help. He’s controlling my mind. I just had a seizure and puked my guts out; can’t you tell that something’s the matter— “Everything is fine,” he heard himself say; distantly, as though through water. “Collypod.” An old challenge code from when she’d been his Watcher, asking him if he were under duress. Sleen, he thought. Sleen. I am under duress. Sleen sleen SLEEN— “Rancor.” “Understood. I’d suggest you catch some rest; you seem a bit out of sorts—” He woke with a jolt. For a long moment, he laid there, heart pounding, watching neon-tinged shadows play on the ceiling. He could hear Shara’s slow breathing beside him, feel the weight of her body sagging the mattress, feel the tension of the blankets tucked about her sleeping form. Little details to ground him, bring him from the nightmare, punctuate his whispered mantras. Mind control. Castellan restraints. Ontomatophobia. Iconoclasm… His legs ached as he stood, a deep, raw pain. The world tilted; he gripped the edge of the mattress for support. Shara shifted a little. Nausea roiled in time with the throbbing of his head as he stumbled to the refresher; he sank onto the edge of the tub, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply. “Iconoclasm,” he hissed on the exhale. “Iconoclasm…” The creak of footsteps made him still. “Pravin?” “Sorry.” His voice sounded hoarse and strange to his own ears; a distorted imitation. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” She padded over the rug, gingerly lowering herself beside him. “You’re alright. You’re safe.” He felt his face burn, mortified that she’d overheard his rambling. “You don’t need to—” “Yes, I do.” Firm, insistent; a hint of her old authority. Her hand went to his back, massaging taut muscles. “Sssh. You’re alright.” He relaxed by degrees into her touch, sagging against her. She pressed a soft kiss against his hair.

[oculusxcaro]

🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests?

I know you don’t reblog this but I wanted to send ya one!

munday asks! (unprompted but still cool!)

Not a problem at all, I'm actually flattered you sent this in! Truthfully I feel like a very boring person hence not doing a lot of munday stuff but since you asked, I'd be happy to talk about the silly little things I do! There's the usual stuff like reading, cooking and walking the dog but one obscure thing I like doing? Finding stuff while out on long walks.

Here's something I actually found today while walking to town to get some pinkies for R.orschach! This poor squashy Donatello had been dropped into some leaf litter close to the bus stop so I took him home and gave him a good soaking in some warm water and washing up liquid. Cleaned up a treat after that and now I don't know what to do with him. I've found quite a few things over the years since there are a lot of touristy places and kids drop shit all the time so here's a small collection of stuff I've taken back home after such finds.

No idea who the little girl is, maybe a rubber Anna from Frozen? There's a type of seadragon thing, a Winnie the Pooh spinning head thing with a bunch of different expressions when you press his heart, a plastic mountain lion(?), a hippo with snapping jaws and what I think is a Jurassic World Mosasaurus (even has a glow in the dark skeleton inside!) So yeah, I'm a bit of a packrat and just like to bring things home - pretty rocks, feathers, flowers and cuttings and the stuff kids drop since I'm sure I could donate it to charity at some point but I just like watching the hoard grow at this point. 😅 Keep your eyes open when you go out, sometimes you'll stumble across the most unexpected things!