#and from then you can expect i haven't been... well.

[everettes-requiem]

“Ev! There you are.” 

Henry runs up to the blonde boy by the rocks. The trail of buzzing flies crawling up his arms and face are a stark reminder that he is still in the beast’s clutches.

He’s holding something in his hand; Flowers.

“Remember when I used to give you flowers all the time, Ev? ‘N’ you’d make fun of me for it? I…. I thought I’d bring you some more.”

The atmosphere between them is different, no longer two hurt boys on a mysterious beach, more like a fallen angel and a skittish demon standing opposite eachother on the firey plains of hell. In the unholy one’s hand, he holds forgiveness.

“I dunno what they mean, I haven’t spoken to Frankie in a while, and after everything… I think he’s better off without me bothering him. But they’re… droopy. If I had to say, I’d say they mean… sorry.”

Henry pauses, before holding them out. “I… haven’t quite forgiven you for what happened. But I’m sorry that it did. And pink flowers always looked nice in your hair.”

When Everette finally reaches out to take the flowers, Henry’s touch lingers on his hand. He missed this, the touch, the break in the world’s pain to hold in his hands what is most precious to him. His Angel. 

—Henry (@henrys-eulogy-aflame)

everette could be found sitting on the rocks by the water. he picked up one of the smaller stones that was around, opening up his palm to take a look at the rock that lay in it. it was smooth, free from imperfection. suddenly, irrationally, he throws it. the stone hits the water’s surface with a light thud, before sinking down beneath. it was as if this was his way of cursing at the waves— the currents, for not bringing them any opportunity or chance to get off this island after they had wasted their last. he picks up another, his fingers feeling the sharp edges of this one, only to clench his hand around the jagged item. he aims it with a warm exhale, closing one of his eyes in a futile attempt to find a meaningless spot in the endless sea for it to disappear down into. but before he can actually toss it, the sound of a familiar voice causes him to still. he looks over his shoulder, coming face to face with henry. the frustration in his eyes are painted over then and there with an unreadable expression as he stares. a bad omen seems to stares back at him.

his grey eyes glance up and down the restless figure that stands in front of him. more wounds and scars than clear skin, a plethora of flies gathering to feed at the little life he had left— and the shine in his eyes, having already been dimmer than most, was gone completely. "ripley. finally showing your face after all that time in the forest, are you?"

but, was this really henry? his answer seemed to lie in what the other held in his hands, the hands that could pray for mercy no more. the cursed boy holds flowers in them like he did once, a long time ago. a continuity in the consumed, some hope in the bleakness. he blinks once, and then twice. everette lets the rock slip from his fingers, standing up and dusting himself off. while he does so, he speaks in a tone that is made up of feigned indifference

"only to start acting as if im scatterbrained, or that my memory’s all dodgy. watch it, ripley. i'll have you know that I haven't forgotten. it's quite hard to forget something like ‘hat when it seemed like every time we crossed paths— or well, every time you came up to me or whatnot, you always left flowers in your wake. it was queer, to say the least. ‘here’s a handful of pretty girls around, you know. i'd say they're more suitable for your flowers" "but here you are, doing ‘he exact same thing all over again. have you learned nothing? i would have thought something managed to get in that head of yours. after all, last i checked all the dahlias left on the island had been stomped to shreds. i wonder what happened ‘here. guess it doesn’t exactly matter now. i really do need to stop setting expectations for people who can't meet them"

he pauses, growing quiet as he tilts his head, taking in the sight of the flowers . they were down turned and pink. though. the color seemed a bit dull. one could even mistake them for vaguely wilted at first glance. "they're different this time around" his voice comes out softer than intended, a whisper in the dark. "they remind me of you."

"a reflection of the picker, drawn to the thing that resembles you the most i suppose. ‘hough, i would have thought you would’ve been repulsed instead. if these mean sorry, then they’re simply just a sorry excuse for an apology in the form of a flower" despite his words and definitely against his better judgement, his fingers reach out. his hesitation is overridden by this testimony to normalcy and his desperation to take it within his grasp. whether this is him reaching out to the flowers, or truly towards henry, the lines blur in obscurity. their hands graze each other, and they stay like that a second longer than they should have. though, the already fleeting moment is short lived. as everette pulls away, a single flower remains in his hand from the bouquet.

he no longer looks at henry, his gaze slowly drifting down to the flower he holds in his hand. he holds it gently, uncharacteristically so. it was as if he were afraid if he handled it incorrectly, the petals would fall off and would drift out of reach, for it wasn’t just a piece of floral in that moment. in between his fingers is a fragile remnant of this so-called forgiveness between the two boys— a kind of forgiveness he would never get again, especially not from god. hardly could call them boys anymore. after all, what have they made each other out to be? surely anything but human, though nothing short of hurt. a sigh leaves everette's lips.

"i don't want forgiveness, if that is what you think. if that's what you were hoping for. i don't care for it. i���ll let you know beforehand that i’m not sorry either, my words held at least some semblance of truth. ‘hey still do. people don’t like the truth very much, i’ve noticed. sucks to them"

"tell me, henry. what good is forgiveness if attachment has already run its course? makes no difference whether you forgive me or not, if we keep satiating our loneliness with each other anyway. that’s what you said, right? that we’re all that’s left?”

in everette's heart— the angel's soul, there is only emptiness left. the boy had let go of his humanity to achieve a false sense of divinity, betraying himself in attempts to grasp at the redemption and attention he desperately needed. while the other, having traded his own humanity away under the promise of familial love and the care he constantly craved, only to become something incapable of it all. both tied together by their fractured selves, pieces put together without regard for which belonged to who.

"you should go now. you know what happened the last time you stayed for too long. wouldn't want more poison in those fly infested wounds of yours. and— keep the rest of those flowers for yourself. i feel you need them more than me”

— everette ainsworth 🐑 @henrys-eulogy-aflame

[changingplumbob]

Second Round - Day Fourteen 3 of 3

Deanna: Congratulations on finding so much treasure

Evelyn: I didn't expect to! Which makes it nicer

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Evelyn: Well, haven't been lucky in love so far. I'm also very unlucky with plants

Deanna: *chuckles* I have to ask how you know that

Evelyn: I had a gardening phase once where I made my dad buy a ton of plants. I was so excited but they all died after a month, even though I tried my best. I still mourn those plants sometimes...

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Evelyn: I'm a bit of a romantic so I'd like to believe in destiny. Wouldn't it be nice to have a destined partner? It might not be realistic but I dunno, I like to imagine it exists

Deanna: It would be nice, and I always enjoy books with that theme

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Evelyn: I think San Myshuno will always be home for me. There's no other place like it

Deanna: It sounds like a wonderful mix of cultures and arts

Evelyn: Also, I've found that I get quite homesick without my family around... so yeah, I would choose San Myshuno

Deanna: I'm the same! I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Evelyn: Oh, I understanding wanting to stay close with family. That's difficult then... but if it comes to it, I'm sure we can work it out together. We get along great, after all

Deanna: *smiling* We do indeed

Devin: How was it?

Deanna: Really nice. I'm glad I got to spend time with Evie

Devin: How did you find the date?

Evelyn: *smiling* Good. Although I'm not sure how I'll sleep having coffee this late

Results: No sentiments, Evelyn maxed the friendship bar. She had a smaller gap than Kennedy so will get 5 bonus points. If anyone else maxes the bar she will get 10 and Kennedy will get 5.

Unsurprisingly Isla has chosen to head to the beach for her date.

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Isla: Hmm... I think it changes by the day, to be honest. Some days I'm lucky, some days I'm not.

Deanna: Does it change that often?

Isla: Well... for example, one day I found this really pretty-looking shell on the beach, then literally the next day I tripped and the shell broke! I was so sad... My dad gave me one of his shells from his collection to replace it, but it wasn't the same..

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Isla: To be honest, it's a mix of both for me

Deanna: A cocktail of beliefs?

Isla: I do believe in a higher being or beings; Sulani is a very spiritual place, but I don't think they determine our fate or anything. I believe that we determine our fates ourselves. I mostly think this way because of my Sulani upbringing, but other than that, it's just what I believe; there's no specific reason.

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Isla: I think everyone knows at this point that I looove my hometown Sulani, but so far I've been enjoying Tartosa; I don't think I'd mind staying here permanently. As long as the place is warm and has a beach, I'm down!

Deanna: We definitely have beaches, and I've yet to see it snow here

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Isla: I think I'd be happy living in Tartosa; it's warm, has beaches... what's not to love? But regardless of where we live, we'd never be constantly on the move

Deanna: *smiles*

Isla: I've lived in Sulani my entire life and can't even imagine having to move all the time! Once I'm settled somewhere, I'd want to stay there!

Devin: Final date of the round, how was it?

Deanna: Beautiful lighting! It was great getting to know Isla more

Devin: How was the date for you?

Isla: I enjoyed it! It was lovely to have it on one of my treasured beaches

Results: No sentiments

Devin: That's it for this round

Deanna: That's it for this round *sighs* Now come the tough calls

Devin: Will you go by totals?

Deanna: I think I should since we've started bonus points. I'll see you tomorrow Devin

Devin: At the ceremony! Tomorrow it is

Sim Creators and Writers

@sanitysims, @jonquilyst

Lot Credits

Sulani Beach Cafe and Ohan'ali Beach Club found on the gallery by EA ID SimCubeez

[orangez3st]

hi friend! Could I please make a fic request if you’re interested? 😊 I was thinking of something fluffy with an established relationship with fives and a jedi reader and maybe they feel like they need to sneak around to spend time together with snuggling or kissing but everyone already knows and they just haven't realized that yet. And maybe when they get caught everyone teases them? I actually really don't mind whatever plot you want!! Just really some fluff with fives if you're interested 🩷 tysm you are amazing! 🫶🏻

Every Second Counts

ARC Trooper Fives × GN!Jedi!Reader 

✧ Summary: You and Fives have a unique bond, and you spend a brief, invaluable time together before the war becomes your priority once more.

✧ Tags & Warnings: established relationship, forbidden love, fluff, Torrent Company shenanigans, reader is a Jedi Commander and called “sir”, character cameos: Cal Kestis and a bunch of Torrent with Rex included in a separate scene, attachment-aware jedi x clone relationship (we abide the code in this house just because), cuddles, kisses, hugs, maybe a bit angsty?

✧ Word Count: 3.5k

✧ A/N: HOORAY EARLY POST!! @precioustech much thanks for requesting! 😄💞 I admit I got a little carried away while playing around with the prompt so I hope this isn’t too far from your expectations 💛 (and I just think we should have more of this kind of relationship trope)

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Fives divider by @lornaka and @freesia-writes

“You really think we don't notice, do you?”

It's where Fives is certain his heart is going to explode out of his chest. Nevertheless, he keeps on chewing, eyes downward onto his food tray. “Notice what?”

Dogma sitting across from him gives him a look. “How you two like to sneak around.”

“Me and Echo?” Fives deflects easily, scoffing, and smacks his twin in the back while he's drinking. Sputtering, Echo kicks him under the table. Fives ignores him. “We’re ARC’s, vod. It's like you're saying how the Jedi like to use the Force.”

“Yeah, but I'm talking about the Jedi.”

“The General? I mean, yeah. Last op was fun. We were sneaky enough. Surprisingly. For a guy like Skywalker.”

“Fives,” Tup rolls his eyes. “It's about your partner.”

“Me and E—”

“Romantic partner.” It's Echo this time, scowling and looking exhausted already.

Jesse shakes his head, sitting at the end of the dining table. “Di’kut.”

“What?” Fives challenges him, his tone aggressive but the massive grin on his face is telling otherwise. “As if you're successful sneaking around with your boyfriend as well? You should be ashamed!”

Hardcase barks a laugh. “Says the guy who's sneaking around with a kriffin’ Jedi Commander!”

That earns him a collective loud shush and a slap to the back of his bald head from Jesse.

“So jig's up, then?” Kix teases. “Actually jig's up since moons ago—goddammit, Fives. Dogma really meant it. He saw you two.”

“We were talking,” Fives huffs, his food forgotten.

“And snogging,” Echo sips on his juice.

Groaning, Fives stands, his fingers lifting the edge of his tray. “This conversation never happened. I don't know you all. Who are you? Why am I sitting here with a bunch of nosy di'kute?”

“Everything's been your choice,” Tup calls out, grinning widely while twirling his fork, as the ARC Lieutenant walks away.

“Great,” Echo rolls his eyes, drawing his datapad from his hip to leave a comm message for his twin. “Now I have to remind that he eats his fill this noon.”

“Nah,” Jesse chuckles, watching Fives throwing the tray down the chute. “I'm sure he'll get lunch someplace else.”

“Somewhere nicer,” Hardcase snickers. “Like Dex's. Or, y'know—”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” Dogma squints.

“Knowing our next joint op is with Cody's battalion under Fives’ Jedi lover?” Jesse scoffs—as an ARC Lieutenant himself he has the briefing in hand much earlier than the rest of the company. “It'll happen anyway.”

Echo sighs. “Can we please not talk about Fives’ bedroom adventures here.”

As Fives is marching out of the mess hall he absolutely pretends not to hear all that. Echo's comm message makes his vambrace comm beep waiting to be read. He knows what it's about. Echo always cares about him like that. He'll read it, eventually. But now, his task at hand is to find you—his stance masked by the steady walk of a soldier on duty, as if marching to the hangar to board the next cruiser with whatever star system where they need him and freshest intel in mind.

Bucket clipped to his belt, Fives strides through the boring old corridors of the 501st compound—the durasteel grey of its walls void of life and reminds him too much of Kamino. He fought hard there. But here, he fights hard too between planets and star systems. He's fighting for the galaxy now, and no longer for himself—for his old squad.

Troopers passing by. They nod at him with respect. At him. Or the ARC gears. Of the fact that he's a Geonosis veteran—the second battle, where Cody carried the entire campaign and probably in need of back surgery for that. And so many battles and skirmishes after that. He's glad to have Echo and Jesse, fellow ARCs, by his side. Rex is considering Dogma to be next—if that regulation-abiding brother of his could, for once, think outside the box and improvise since it's essentially what it means to be an ARC. Those three Rancor ARC commanders who trained them would probably laugh at poor vod’ika if he keeps that up. And probably at Rex's judgment too. Rex. Even with the jai'galaar'la sur'haii'se.

Speaking of Rex, Fives finally clocks that blond head that he knows from anywhere. Blond genes are rare among the clones, being a recessive one from one of Fett's relatives. Rex is supposedly a lucky bastard, if one considers individuality has to be placed high among others.

The captain is in the midst of talking with a pair of Jedi Commanders. In the middle of a random corridor of the 501st compound, instead of a specific briefing room. Then it can't really be too important, something mundane, probably—judging by the eager, curious smile of one of the commanders, the young one, whose freckles are so prominent that even Fives could see from this distance as he marches in their direction and bright amber hair reminding him too much of Kenobi.

And then there's you. The other one. Fives throws you a not-so-discreet charming smile as soon as your attention briefly shifts toward him, and in a matter of seconds returns to Rex, whose focus is more put toward the other commander. Must be something advisory. He's really young. Probably 11 or 12 in standard.

“Good day we're having?” Fives chimes in as he approaches, the distance closing, and the group turns toward him. Rex even sports a brief smile and slaps him in the back.

“I wouldn't call intel gathering day in Serenno as good,” the 501st commanding officer rolls his eyes.

“Ah, the usual for ARCs, Captain. You know that well, eh?”

“Sure, whatever.” Rex barely puts any resistance against his blooming smirk. He then cuts to the chase gesturing to the unfamiliar smaller and impossibly younger commander. “This is Jedi Padawan Cal Kestis, Commander of the 13th Battalion under General Jaro Tapal. Sir, this is Fives; ARC trooper, Lieutenant. One of our finest men we trust for intel gathering.”

Cal Kestis, the curious and perhaps a little shy young red-haired boy, holds out a hand for Fives to shake. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”

“And you, sir. Between us, it's just Fives.” With a polite smile he's practiced a hundred times, he shakes the boy's hand, giving him a gentle yet firm shake so he wouldn't shock the life out of him. “So this is now a joint op between,” Fives tilts his head, aiming the question at Rex, “501st and 212th SpecOps, and now a part of the 13th as well?”

You step in. “Cal is joining us as a part of his training. Master Tapal insisted, and I'll be looking after him.” Fives' breath is stolen right away at hearing your voice and it makes him feel stupid in the presence of others. You place a gentle hand on Kestis’ shoulder. “So don't worry, little brother. I'll be there every step of the way.”

Kestis grimaces at the prospect of being babysat by Tapal’s former Padawan—his lineage sibling. “Maybe not in every step of the way?”

Fives goes into parade rest. “Might as well send commandos,” he aims his statement again—which is insignificant, and he knows that but he just wants to comment—at Rex.

“It's not that delicate,” Rex says, “ARCs are sufficient for this mission.”

“With a couple of lightsaber-wielding commanders,” you brightly add, mainly to keep Kestis from being intimidated by all the official chatter.

“We need to go over again about how big this facility we're talking about,” Fives suggests, throwing a nanosecond attentive glance at you.

“That'd be the best,” Rex agrees with a slow nod, and throws a brief smile at Kestis. “Especially now that we have an additional passenger on board whom I bet wouldn't wanna miss anything we have. I'll talk to Cody to gather his men.”

“Yeah, maybe there's something new,” Fives adds, referring to intel and being actually locked in although there's you—usually his primary distraction. He's proud of himself at the moment.

“I'd like to come with you if you don't mind, Captain.” Kestis’ young voice sounds like it came from a heavy internal deliberation. He doesn't want to leave your side. What an adorable young boy. He's a kid. Reminds Fives of his own Commander Tano, and also the grim part of the war that they send literal children into it.

Rex smiles encouragingly. “Sure, kid. Come along.” With a parting nod both to Fives and you, he turns and walks the other way—helmet clipped to his belt and arms swaying by his side—with the young Padawan eagerly following next to him. “I want to show you the main war room. Or is there something else you'd like to see? Like the training gym?”

“That'd be great! Have you been to the 13th Battalion compound?’

Their voices become distant, faded into faint whispers of encouragement and enthusiasm before lost on him, as they turn around the corner. And finally, there's only him. And you.

You sigh loudly. Fives tilts his head sideways at you—a relieved, loopy smile that somehow still makes him quite a looker adorn his face.

“Hey,” he softly greets you, finally free from all the serious formalities.

“Hi,” you grin, heart thrumming in delight.

“So. Cal Kestis,” he begins. “Haven't seen him around before.”

You exhale wistfully, hands going behind you back. “His battalion gets deployed to the Outer Rim lately.”

Fives balks. “Wait, not in the Sieges? With Bacara and his intimidating marine boys?”

“No, not there. Not there yet,” you shake your head, concerned. “Let's hope not. He's so young. And the Outer Rim is too brutal for him.”

Fives knows well what intragalactic war would demand of someone. He looks at you. “Even I know you won't go there.”

“We won't go there,” you correct him. “If you're not part of the 21st or Master Mundi’s padawans, it might as well be a death sentence.”

Fives hums. “Heroes.”

“Commendable bravery.” Your tone is solemn. “But here in life, we all have sacrifices to make.”

“Yeah,” he absently agrees, unsure how to interpret that. Yes, he gets the general idea, but he wonders if it goes far beyond. Deeper. Meaning upon meaning. Covered by not entirely lies, but just… hidden, lying in wait, waiting to be dug out.

“But enough about that. I'm sure Cal is in good hands—your Captain’s.” Your voice rings through his thoughts, and when he snaps his attention at you again, your lips blossom into a soft smile, and your hand held out in his direction. “Let's get out of here, shall we?”

You lead him to your temporary apartment inside the compound. It's modest at best. You may be part of the 212th, but recently both of your and Fives' battalion have been tackling Separatist presence in the Core Worlds and Mid Rim by co-op, so you spend a lot of time in and out of GAR military compounds in Coruscant. The Temple remains your forever home. While you miss the serenity of the garden and the pond, it's nothing against hearing the hustle and bustle of soldiers merely living their lives and making fun while they can. It settles several of your worries. It's alive, and you love being in the midst of it.

The moment the door of your apartment seals close, Fives wraps his strong arms around your frame, pulling you flush against his armored chest. It's a little awkward on your part and pulling a surprised squeal out of you at the pressure, so you compensate by letting go, placing a kiss on his cheek and helping to unclasp his top armor pieces. He watches you fumble with his vambrace with a mesmerized gleam in his eyes.

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are just standing in some corridor of this building?”

A loud laugh that sounds ever pleasant in his ears tumbles off your lips. Your brilliant eyes peer up at him as he patiently waits for you. “You’re only saying that because now we're here; finally having a private time for ourselves.”

“Yeah but seriously.” Fives rolls his eyes. His cheeks hurt from grinning too much. Done with the vambraces, you quickly tug off his elbow guards. “Missed you so much, cyar’ika.”

You hum, absentmindedly pecking his lips before unclasping his bicep pieces. Fives shrugs his pauldrons and entire chest and back piece off faster than your pace entirely out of muscle memory, apparently unable to hold his patience out for much longer. He crushes you against his toned chest, muffling your giggles and playful squeals as he places a big wet kiss on top of your head.

“Okay okay! I missed you too!” you giggle for mercy, letting out a startled yelp again when he grabs the sides of your face to crash his lips against yours. It's only temporary, yet still leaving you breathless by the time he pulls away, before kissing you again much gentler afterward.

You sigh into his lips, your arms wind around his neck. Fives holds you closer, pinning you against his warm torso. His chest bubbles with so much immeasurable happiness and relief that he lets out an involuntary chuckle, stroking your cheek and leaning his forehead against yours as he reels away from the intoxicating kiss.

“Joint ops are amazing since I can focus on legit ARC missions…” He playfully pinches your side, chuckling at your small adorable yelp. “While staring at you across the war room during briefs. It's a good chance. Worth every single time.”

“You know that really sounds creepy, Fives,” you giggle.

Your lover smiles widely, gently rocking your bodies side to side. “It's beneficial.”

You roll your eyes. “More joint operations aren't exactly doing us any good if we still wanna keep us a secret.”

He nearly groans remembering the mess hall conversation with the others. “Actually it might even not be a secret anymore.”

You freeze and blink at him. “Say again?”

“The boys somehow know about us,” he admits after letting out a big dramatic sigh. Because just great. It's most top fear for couples who want to keep their relationship a secret, and somehow he blew it off. Worse thing is he doesn't know when—when they started to know, when the word circulated around—and most especially; how they knew.

It only takes you a moment to digest it all, including the existing consequences. “‘Somehow’?” you inquire teasingly. “You're an ARC trooper, Fives. I thought ‘somehow’ isn't in your dictionary.” 

“This one escaped me.” His voice falls quieter, disappointment in himself flooding his chest. But your eyes are so forgiving that you almost don't seem to mind. It's disappointing, too. “I’m so sorry,” he says anyway.

You sigh softly, carding a hair through his coarse curls. “It's not your fault.” You're stroking his cheek, a soft smile on your lips, and Fives learns into your touch that eventually blossoms into a full palm on cheek. “Maybe we weren't subtle enough.”

“Still.” He then buries his face into your shoulder. Your robes smell like some woody and floral aroma that indistinctly can be found at the Temple, and he tries to find comfort in that while he pours his heart out. “I put a lot on your plate. I don't ever wanna do that to you. You've got a lot of burden being a commander of your own battalion, and I don't want you to worry about getting kicked out of the Order.”

Fives feels you smile against his neck, and his back shivers from how your fingers curl into his blacks. “Thank you for worrying about me,” he hears you whisper. You place a chaste kiss on his jaw. “But all that you mentioned has been there all my life.”

He pouts. He lowkey wishes you could see him like that. “But I'm making it worse.”

The subtle shaking of your head makes a rustling noise against his skin. “Nonsense. You're making everything better.” You reel away from his neck to take his lips upon yours. Your eyes glimmer again as you gaze into his soul, piercing his barriers altogether. “We're together. That's what matters.”

Fives tightens his arms around you almost possessively, shutting his eyes to just hear your soft breathing against him and relishing your presence in his arms. “Aside from the war that we found ourselves in.”

“Precisely,” you murmur, “I can’t give you much, but you'll always have me. Whatever you need.”

He releases a long sigh. It unexpectedly comes from deep inside him—all the wishes, all the hopes. All the questions and impatience still entrapped by a sturdy net. He has a purpose. He can't forget that.

“I know.” Fives opens his eyes to your soft grateful smile. “Can I kiss you again?”

“If I ever say no, you may use my lightsaber on me.”

He chuckles. “I just really like kissing you.” His lips find yours again, and he can almost taste the honey and cornbread you've had for after-lunch snack on you. “You're addicting.”

“Careful,” you tease.

“M’still within the borders of my respect, sir,” Fives grins, his feet driving you to pace backwards so that he could gently push you to sit on your bed. He remains standing, yet his hand finds your jaw to caress them as softly as he can. “Just stating my affection. Unless affection is forbidden for the Jedi?”

You giggle softly. “You're really cheeky with your words. As if your vocabulary changes when you're near me.”

“Good sir, however thou art mean?”

“Stop it,” you let out a full belly laugh that you cover your mouth with your hand. “You sound too silly. I like you just silly.”

“Right.” His chest warms at your delighted sound, which by his humblest opinion is incomparable against Naboo’s beautiful blossoms and the sound of trickling river in the wild. “Then let this silly man kiss you to death, hm?”

Fives descends on you before you can answer. His movement is precise as he maneuvers his limbs to cage you in, clearly not intending to make you uncomfortable in your own bed. One knee and both forearms by either side of your head propping him up, his mouth moves against yours carefully, gently. You sigh into the kiss as he slowly lowers himself onto your body, pressing you against the mattress to let you feel his weight comfortably resting on top of yours.

You pull away from his lips. “Can we stay like this?”

A comfortable heat crawls up his body seeing you breathless and batting your eyelashes innocently at him. His chest swells, already settling on an answer as he places one last peck on your lovely lips. “‘Course we can, cyar’ika.”

You mutter your heartfelt thanks like a polite Jedi you are as you both shuffle around the bed to find a comfortable position. Fives lays down on your pillow, one arm behind his head and your head resting on top of his chest. No matter how long you two have spent moments like this, it never fails his heart to beat even faster. His affection grows and swells to the point it no longer can't be contained, so oftentimes his arm tightens around your shoulders as if he has a cuteness aggression for you, and before you know it he places another big wet kiss on top of your head that always leave you giggling every single time.

It's quiet moments like this. Grateful to have each other in each other's company although occasionally separated by campaigns. It's a fate that's neither cruel nor fortunate that your battalion and his often join forces. One would say it's a distraction. But his focus persists. And sometimes, thousands of light-years away, Fives wonders about you. Sometimes sending a comm could be too risky—every communication is closely monitored.

He always prepares for the worse, but not that he's never used to that. His affection for you has grown deep and taken roots. Fives cares about you just as much as he cares about the chance of winning campaign after campaign. Time and space and understanding have always been present between the both of you, and thus every moment is precious just as every ticking second counts. Every kiss counts. Every traded word counts. Anything could be your last, or his.

So when his vambrace beeps, signaling a comm message from Rex about the assembly with the 212th, a sigh of satisfaction—long and forgiving—blows through his nostrils. You raise your head to meet his gaze, your smile already full with acceptance and anticipation.

“Let's win again this time, Fives, my dear,” you say encouragingly, stroking his cheek and kissing him again one last time. Before you can pull away, Fives deepens the kiss, his hand pressing the back of your head to keep you there.

“For the greater good,” he murmurs against his lips, fire igniting inside his chest. “And seeing you again, obviously.”

You chuckle at his clinginess. Once again, your sounds of joy bring consolation within him, and your confident, passionate smile brightens his life.

“And seeing you again, yeah.”

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat @gh0st-c0mpany @br00kthe0takuuuu @ct7567329 @returnofthepineapple

A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)

[pooks]

haven't posted anything Percy-related in ages, but i got this idea at 3am and it lives rentfree in my head, so it's only fair everyone else should suffer as well

imagine that Percy comes out as gay post-DH. his family is very cool and supportive with this

(they all knew, but said nothing because he needs to discover it himself)

but the only downside? they keep nitpicking every single guy he dates. no one is good enough and there is always something to complain about.

one was lisping. the other one kept cracking his knuckles. another one kept psycho-analyzing them (Percy didn't even last a week with him), etc. the Weasleys just decided that if Percy's gonna date a man, then he better be good enough for him and unfortunately, no one is good enough.

and then, Percy stumbles onto Oliver and they start dating. lo and behold, his family FOR ONCE have nothing bad to say. in fact, they're all too excited and supportive about this.

George, Ron and Ginny are a little too invested in their relationship.

Percy: so this whole time when i dated men from left to right and you guys kept complaining about them, you were just comparing them to Oliver Wood? Ginny, unashamed: yup. George: also you dated assholes. i mean, what the hell. Ron: and i thought my self esteem was bad. you seemed to just date guys to make yourself miserable. Charlie: and we know it's bad when not even Dad can stand the guy. Bill: if looks could kill, the last guy would've been a big pile of ash.

as you might expect it, Percy can't believe he's in a situation where the greatest thing he had ever done in his family's opinion is to date Oliver Wood.

background bonus: Harry is just bewildered and slightly amused while Hermione is annoyed by the stupidity of the situation.

[hellfire-eddie-m]

Eddie's hand felt much cooler as Angel pulled hers away; the sensation stronger than anything else he felt at the moment. And he was feeling... a plethora of emotions. In true Eddie fashion, he'd built up this moment in his mind as soon as he finished Angel's song. She would obviously know it was about her, they would have a cute little moment, and then he'd ask her to be his girlfriend. What was so wrong with that formula? Why was this all not happening the way he expected it to? He understood that sounded selfish on his part, and he shook away the thought just as Angel asked him, "Why?" A question barely above a whisper, as if him confessing his feelings caused her to shrink backward. He felt confused, and burdened by Angel's unwillingness to recognize all of the amazing qualities she possessed.

He took the beer bottle from her fumbling fingers, replacing it with his hands. He hadn't misread this, had he? He figured he had already sacrificed himself on the altar of romantic grandiose gestures, what was one more declaration? He may not leave this situation with his dignity intact, but at least he wasn't going to run away this time.

Facing Angel, he took a long, shaky breath. His hands fiddled with hers, letting the air fall silent between them for a minute before he began. His eyes connected with hers, the contact never faltering as he began to speak again. "Angel... you ask me why. And I understand why you ask me that, because you've told me about the things you've faced. You've told me that you feel invisible. You've talked to me about how people don't see the real you. And the only thing I can say is that authenticity is rare, and people tend to be repelled by it. That's why every person at the top of the social hierarchy at Hawkins High look and act mostly the same. It's why my friends are some nerdy guys that I met playing a fantasy role play game and decided to start a band with."

Eddie stopped himself, realizing he was going off on a tangent he never meant to get started on. "Anyway, not the point. Why, Cherub? You want to know why I would write multiple songs about you? I guess my question to you is... why wouldn't i? If we're talking strictly songwriting purposes, you are the definition of a perfect muse. You're beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. You came into my life and challenged everything I thought I knew. You cooked me some of the most delicious food I've ever had. You're helping me pass Spanish which I think deserves a song all by itself, probably several hundred dollars as well. You never once shied away from getting to know me when you found out I was the town pariah. Angel, you don't just deserve a song or two. That's the bare minimum. You deserve the entire world," Eddie urged, eyes showing no hint of exaggeration.

"I like you Angel. I really, really like you. After that day you walked into the video store looking for some shitty horror movie, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. When I was on stage, seeing you out in the crowd. Seeing how you supported me and cheered me on. It told me I would be an absolute idiot to put off asking you any longer. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours." Eddie decided not to ask her outright, as he could tell she was processing through a lot of emotions. Instead, he waited, soft silence between them as he reached up to stroke the back of his hand over her cheek.

More Than A Feeling

@sendmeeanangel

Eddie's mind raced as quickly as the electricity flowing through his amp. It'd been ages since he had pre-show jitters. He plucked an unsteady hand across strings, a faraway drifting look glassing his eyes. What if Angel thought he sucked? What if the handful of drunks that cheered them on had a serious case of alcohol ears, where anything with a beat sounded good? He liked to think he was talented, but self-doubt began, forming a tight lump in his throat.

Eddie's downward mental spiral was shuttered by the loud clang of a symbol. He jumped on instinct, sending his guitar flying upward and nearly colliding into his nose. He whipped around, flipping Gareth off as he kicked at his bass drum. "C'mon man, what the fuck was that for?" Eddie muttered, adjusting his guitar strap. Gareth, grin as sly as the cat who caught the canary, flipped his drumstick around and through his fingers. "Just trying to make sure your head is where it's supposed to be. I'm already seeing a couple more people. Maybe we'll break ten tonight!" he emphasized, though his tone was sarcastic. They all knew the crowd size couldn't be their sole goal. In a place like Hawkins, where most people dry-heaved a response to heavy metal, the real census wouldn't be truthful until they got the hell out of this town. So, they continued to show up, hoping somehow their music would permeate through the town's chatter like an old time tent revival. It was better to be talked about than not at all. And Eddie, ever the performer, always resigned to give them a damn good show.

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, opening it again to make sure he had it all memorized. Pressed for time, he'd plugged the lyrics into a melody they'd already been playing with during practices. He wasn't fully confident it was even good enough to play. So, he explained to the band members that if he said a key word, that meant they would transition into playing the song. Eddie was definitely making the process too complicated, but his showman spirit just couldn't resist.

As they ran over the last of practice, Eddie kept a watchful eye on the front door. Angel wasn't due for another hour, shortly before the show started. And still, he felt himself looking for her every time the door opened.

[akai-anna]

Hi! I’m your dcmk exchange gift giver. How are you? Identity reveals are also a big weakness of mine, I love seeing them finally discover each other’s secrets. Also, what’s your favorite way of finding a soulmate?

Hello there, dear.

I'll be honest, I'm not in the best state emotionally at the moment, so it's possible I won't be the best company. (Context: yesterday I was basically told that my darling dog is dying, and has low chances of recovery, which hit me like a truck.) However, I've been really looking forward to this exchange and your message (I kept checking the time and if my askbox is in working order to make sure you can send a message without issue), and thus I'll do my best to make the most of it.

Generally, for me, the identity play is one of the best aspects of DetCo, and reveals of any kind related to that are always exciting to see. Certainly, a big weakness. (For both of us, apparently!)

And... that is a good question. I've never thought about this, despite the fact that I like the trope a lot. I need a bit of time to gather my thoughts on this, then I'll come back to edit this ask with my answer!

Edit, as of 2023.12.31. 20:20

Firstly, my girl is not out of the woods yet but she is improving, slowly, in small steps, and we have higher hopes than before. She is more energetic, drinks more than before, and even ate a tiny amount today. Which means, I'm also doing better emotionally.

Secondly: TO ANSWER YOUR SOULMATE QUESTION. (Likely, a much longer answer than you wished for, I'm sorry, I just tend to have lots of thoughts at times.) After some contemplation, it seems in my mind mates and soulmates are in the same category (which I find interesting); the trope is about the potential of the relationship to me, the compatibility (which I also find interesting). After looking at some fics I've read and enjoyed, I came to the conclusion that I don't have a strict favourite, in a sense. I love it when there is a physical, passive marker of the bond (like a string, or a symbol, or words, or a timer), but also when the mark of the bond is active in a visual way between the parties involved (like transferred injuries, or sending messages through skin). I also really love telepathic/emotional bonds. A lot.

Thank you for attending the new session of Anna Is Overthinking A Simple Question (yet again).

[icantalk710]

Looong day of catching up on emails and work to set myself up to be (mostly) on vacation as of xmas 😩☕😵‍💫

[sysig]

Ellen McLain’s commentary from my trivia playthrough

[seaofreverie]

Can't wait to hear what Sparks have to say about the rise of influencers

[sukibenders]

The way some people are reacting to the Oscar nominations, specifically in regards towards Barbie, and many other things surrounding it holds certain undertones, especially when they then start to go and deny America Ferrera's talent among other things, that are very concerning. Like let's not do that. Especially if you're writing an article for a newspaper (LA Times) that makes digs towards the other films and their nominees, mainly who were women, and say that that proves the point of Barbie. Even though the point of the film was that women have to work harder than men just to get their foot in the door, not about shaming other women, but I digress.

[crabbypalsart]

ᯓ★ Thank you for following me!!!

No problem, and thank you for following me! 🦀

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

The nendo I need for the my custom Kayako's hair (and maybe body too?) should be arriving on the 19th. I'm very excited

[unadulteratedragon]

absolutely love begging my professors for a shred of humanity in requesting extensions and a new exam date 🙃

[jamescarstairs]

imagine saying to someone who definitely has undiagnosed anxiety and possibly also ocd "if i'm not awake before you are in the morning make sure i'm okay"

[sysig]

TVAU Outfit, coming someday (Patreon)

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Him again (Wendy Carter)