#being a ghost is unexpectedly complicated

[askthehospitalghost]

"Hello, people in my cellular device. I have come to ask for advice."

"How does one explain to the legal system that I am not doing identity fraud, and this is actually my tax information. I am not committing tax fraud, I am unfortunately just dead."

"...and want pretty clothes..."

"...and stuffed animals."

"...also a pool noodle, some foundation and some liquid latex. For purely scientific reasons, of course."

"Send help. Or gift cards. This isn't a scam, I promise."

Ask blog status: open

[invisiblestringmm]

chapter three

it could change but this feels like, like the calm before the storm

a/n: you’re welcome & don’t forget to leave feedback! 🤍

tw: a bit of angst, brief mention of anxiety & rough pregnancy

2.208 words

There were times when you wondered how things would’ve been if Lily never existed - an unbearable thought, since you adored her more than anything in the world and would obviously do anything to make her happy, but where would you be now if you never met the love of your life? You frequently thought about how things would’ve been if Mason never shoved you away, nor ghosted you before you told him about Lily. So, besides your life, two others were living rent-free in your mind and the question “What could’ve been?” was constantly echoing in a soft yet agonising voice.

You never opened Mason’s message on your insta DM, but you never blocked him either for there was no point. The damage, if you could even call it one, was already done and you were more than certain about it on a Tuesday night, when Willow dropped Lily at your’s and her green eyes screamed “I’m so sorry”. Before you could question what had happened, your daughter walked in dragging her backpack and her usual cheerful personality, telling you what a fun afternoon she had with Summer, her mother, and her uncle Mason.

“I took Lily for ice cream like you said I could and they were there,” Willow was sharp to clarify when your widened eyes met hers - you watched your friend swallow hard, anxiously waiting for your reaction.

“Go to your bedroom, Lilian,” your daughter frowned at you and you noticed she pouted a bit. You sighed. “It’s alright, peanut. I just need to speak to auntie Willow, okay?”

Lily mimicked you and let out a sigh too, something that’d make you laugh if you weren’t so nervous. Still in her ballet clothes, you watched your daughter blow you a kiss and make her way to her bedroom, leaving the door open as you always instructed her and that made your heart melt a little. You were the luckiest mum in the world, how could you ever think of a life that Lily wasn’t a part of?

“Y/n, I swear to God I had no idea they’d be there. I didn’t even notice them there, it was Summer who spotted Lily and it was just her and the mum - what’s her na-”

“Jaz,”

Willow nodded, nervously. “I assumed it was okay to stay with them since the girls like each other so much and I didn’t even see him coming. I promise,”

“Will, it’s fine…” you sighed, defeated. This whole crisis was happening because of you, there was no one else to be blamed.

You were the one hiding your child from her father and his family - her family.

“I tried to leave immediately but Lils had just started eating her chocolate fudge and-”

“Oh gosh, was it a big chocolate fudge?”

“No,” Willow shook her head, chuckling. “We shared.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to breathe deeply and close your eyes for a second, feeling unexpectedly exhausted. “How was it?”

“He was very charming, particularly when she introduced herself,” you felt Willow run her hand up and down your back and found comfort in her eyes. “Lilian Maisie, she said.”

“Gosh,” you felt your gut wrench, heart pounding against your chest.

“I know this won’t make things any easier for you, but I think Jaz will probably try to reach you because she’d keep staring at Lily and Mason all the time.”

“Gosh,” you repeated, feeling your whole body weakening. Willow helped you sit on the sofa. “It’s because they look exactly like each other, isn't it?”

Willow slowly nodded, a sigh parting her lips. “The resemblance is undoubtedly uncanny,”

She didn’t stay long that evening, and you had to spend a few minutes reassuring Lily that you weren’t mad at her and that, sometimes, adults were complicated and needed to talk about important stuff - to which she wisely replied that you were a person before being her mummy and still loved you more than anything.

What made you obsessively wonder was: would she still love you when you tell her that her best friend’s uncle was also her daddy?

Willow’s prediction was confirmed when Jaz’s name popped on your notifications, asking when you’d finally accept her invitation to go out for lunch without the girls. It annoyed you a bit how much she insisted, not only because you didn’t feel prepared to face her, but also because things at work were hectic with the Holidays right around the corner. You also had your dad calling nonstop to know if he could take Lily to the Cotswolds before you had planned - according to him, she’d have a lot more fun staying there with her grandparents than with you, occasionally having to go to the office with you. He wasn’t wrong, but there was still the ballet recital on the weekend, so you two agreed he could take her the next day.

When Jaz started to call you instead of texting, you knew it was time to finally give in. Instead of going out, you two agreed it’d be a good idea to enjoy the opportunity to cook a nice meal, so your apartment was the chosen place and you were in charge of the groceries while Jaz fetched dessert and a bottle of white wine for you.

“I’ll have to make you a mocktail,” you said, giving her space to walk into your apartment.

“I definitely won’t decline it,” she giggled, and you noticed how her eyes quickly scanned your place. “I love the decoration. How do you keep it so tidy with that little hurricane?”

“You probably won’t believe it, but Lily is incredibly organised.”

“Hmm,” she muttered. “She got it from you, then.”

It was hard to swallow those words, especially with the knot that formed in your throat. Jasmine was so sure. You knew that she knew, and she knew that you knew - confusing, but clear as the day. You hadn’t been with Jaz many times and they had all been at the ballet studio, you spoke a lot through messages, but you felt oddly uncomfortable around her and you forced yourself to keep in mind that it wasn’t her fault, it was entirely yours.

“So, uh…” you started. “I never asked what we should cook but I’m trying to stay focused before the Holidays.” You giggled, Jaz mimicking you and nodding.

“Me too!”

Cooking made you feel relaxed, so despite the reason why Jaz practically forced this time together, you finally felt at ease again as you talked about the ballet recital and shared Holiday plans - you pointed at a photo of you, Lily, and your parents at Foxwoods House, surrounded by its beautiful garden. One your mum took great pride in.

“The estate has been in the family for a few generations and my great-grandfather built a small chapel there, to marry my great-grandmother,”

“That’s insanely romantic!” Jaz’s sigh was followed by a giggle. “I suppose your grandparents and your parents married there too?”

“Yes, it’s sort of a family tradition. My cousins married there too, and the babies were christened… It's really lovely, very private, and family-centered. The whole family is extremely close.”

“But the estate is your dad’s?”

“Yes and no,” Jaz raised an eyebrow and you chuckled, dividing your attention between her and chopping tomatoes as she focused on the garlic. “My grandpa was sort of inclined to gambling and almost lost the estate, but my dad saved it. It’s his, but like I said, we’re all really close so it’s not like he bans the rest of the family to go there and enjoy it when they need an escape.”

“Because you all grew up there?” you nodded. “Your dad sounds like a fantastic man.” You smiled at her, nodding too. He indeed was, and has always been the most supportive of all.

“He’s extraordinary. Lily is completely crazy about him to the point she’d move in with my parents without thinking twice.”

Jaz flashed you a sweet smile but said nothing. She wasn’t exactly discreet and her facial expression gave it all away, but she soon engaged in rambling about baby shopping, preparations for the baby’s arrival, and how her house was upside down with baby furniture arriving last minute. Rambling wasn’t your favourite thing, but it was better than her throwing hints about Lily’s father - the white wine and the smell of the red sauce cooking also made it easier to handle.

“Pregnancy was fucking hell for me, you know,” you blurted, interrupting Jaz, but she didn’t mind and seemed interested for you to continue. “The first 6 weeks were marked by HG, I was always in and out of the hospital, and the stress made it all worse.

“Stress?”

You nodded. “Lack of emotional support. My parents were incredible but I was still a single mum.”

“Look, Y/n-”

“I tried to tell him.” Jaz gulped. “I need you to listen to me and let me finish the story without any sort of judgement.”

“I’ll do my best.”

This was it, the moment of the truth.

You left the chicken roasting at medium temperature and stood up on the other side of the marble kitchen island, watching Jaz taking a seat while holding her massive bump and taking a sip of her apple juice. Focusing on her bump seemed the best thing to do as you tried to find the proper words, and watching the way she softly stroked it made memories overflow your mind.

“It was just a one-night stand.” you sighed. “I don't want to justify my actions, I know I’m on the wrong side of the story here, but as young as I was, having the father of my child shoving me off the way he did when I went there to tell him just freaked me out.”

Then, you proceeded to tell her the whole story, but also how incredible it was being Lily’s mum. How giving birth was the complete opposite of the pregnancy and you were fortunate that things went as smoothly and as peacefully as possible, that your whole life changed once you held Lily in your arms and fed her your milk - you could see Jaz’s eyes sparkling with tears because she understood what motherhood meant and how you’d do anything and everything to protect your child from what you thought it could be a disappointment for her in the future. Mason turned his back on you that day before you could tell him, so how could he even support you?

You never said his name, but Jasmine’s next words were so full of confidence, that you knew you didn’t have to.

“You should’ve insisted, Y/n.”

You just nodded. “I know, and I want you to know that I regret it deeply because I had no right to deprive my daughter of being around her cousin, her amazing aunt…”

“Gosh,” you watched a single tear fall down her cheek. “He would’ve supported you.”

“You weren’t there, you didn’t see how badly he treated me. I was-” you sniffed. “I was so frightened, so lost.”

“Mason would’ve supported you.” The mention of his name made you finally allow some tears to roll down your cheeks. “And you named her after him…”

You nodded. “I wanted him to be around, somehow.”

“This is extremely tough for me but I don’t want to judge, so…” Holding her bump, Jaz stood up and unhurriedly made her way to you, her hand reaching yours and softly squeezing it. “I’m here for whatever you need, I’m here to be the aunt Lily needs and to support the both of you because I know that’s what you need.”

“Oh, Jaz,” you wanted to cover your face with your hands but Jasmine quickly pulled you to a hug, a clumsy one.

“I’ll be there when you’re ready to tell Mason, and I can’t wait to tell Summer that her bestie is her cousin.”

The rest of the day was followed by you showing Jasmine all of Lily’s baby pictures, telling her all the stories, and even repeating some of them - even if you insisted that it’d be incredible for her to find out everything about Lily by herself, Jaz said it’d still feel like the first time until she got used to being an aunt. She mentioned it was scary to see how much Lily and Mason look alike, that “Maisie” is the perfect middle name, and that she couldn’t wait to see their dynamic together. The hard parts were left out, but you knew that a paternity test would eventually happen for obvious reasons, no matter how much Lily looked like her father.

Jaz assured you that although Mason’s reaction would most likely be negative about what you’ve done, it wouldn’t extend to Lily and he wouldn’t reject her but it’d be a rough path navigating through the fact that he was a father and that his daughter wasn’t a newborn. And like she was reading your mind, she also assured you that he wouldn’t dare to try to take Lily from you.

This was the first time in five years, you knew that, somehow, things would end up fine no matter how hard the in-between was about to be.

next chapter

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: A Bleak Picture

Unsure whether they've been trapped inside a painting or been cast back in time, the party must venture through the desolate ruins of a once warm and familiar place to rescue a number of innocents that've gone missing after being abducted by some shadowy force.

Adventure Hooks:

The party arrive in the town of Valasren on innocuous business, following the rumors of a ruin, attending a nearby shrine, or visiting some old friends. When they arrive they're given an unexpectedly amiable welcome by lord Lucas Kevral, who's heard of their earlier exploits and wants to cultivate a good relationship with such aspiring heroes. While taking him up on an invitation to dine at his castle, the party spy a gloomy painting depicting Valasren in ruins. Lord Kevral explains that it was painted to commemorate the near destruction of the town some generations ago, when one of his ancestors left the settlement defenceless to go off seeking glory in war. His grandmother commissioned the painting from one of the survivors, and hung it in a place of honour so she nor any of her descendants would forget their duty to defend the people.

As the party pursue their mission around Valasren they'll begin to notice a number of disappearances that only seems to climb as time ticks on. Rumors begin to circulate about something moving in the night, stalking people, creeping into their homes when they're asleep, leaving only open doors and empty beds come daylight. These rumours become all too real when the party awake one morning to find one of their number missing, taken without a whisper from where they slept. A scattering of untrustworthy witnesses say they saw an unnatural figure carrying a sack up the hill towards the Lord's castle, giving them at least a ghost of a trail.

Following the trail back to the palace eventually leads the party to the painting, an inexplicable cold draft intermittently drifting from its now permeable surface.

Background: The painter who witnessed the destruction of Valasren was a true master, and was years later able to immortalize the hopelessness they felt in that moment through their skill with the brush. There is power in such emotional resonance, and transformed the painting into an overlap with the shadowfell, where the town's sorrow had likewise been reflected. Not quite a portal, the painting never did much harm but making the already drafty castle hall a little more cold and unwelcoming at night, at least until recent days.

Drawn by the warmth of life and merriment on the air, A Snatcher has discovered the painting and forced its way through, one by one dragging inhabitants of Valasren into the upside down for an unknown purpose.

Challenges & Complications:

Once the party figure out there's something up with the painting, cut to the abducted player waking up in the ruined shadow-town. There's no corresponding painting anywhere to be seen, and because they were taken while they were asleep they're likely a bit exhausted and missing most of their gear. They'll have to be quiet and clever to escape the nightmare things and lingering spirits that dwell within Valasren's shadow, but doing so may give them vital clues about what's really going on. Keep the tension on until the isolated hero is backed into a corner, then have the rest of their friends arrive.

It's a grim irony that before war came to Valasren, the painter was working on capturing the beauty and peace of their home town on canvas, only for that work to be destroyed in the town's raising. Thinking it lost forever, the painter added it in as a detail nearby the burnt out remains of their workshop as a meditation on the happiness thought taken from them. Like many things lost to the mortal world, an echo of the painting has come to reside in the shadowfell, and acts as the exit portal back into the land of light. Finding it though is a problem, the snatcher has removed it from it's resting place and given it over to the terrible entity lairing in the castle. Where they've put it, who can say?

Numerous townsfolk have been pulled into the shadowfell and are scattered about the echo of a place they thought they knew. Lost, affraid, and isolated, many of them have run for cover or have started to sink into the spirit siphoning torpor that afflicts all to dwell too long in shadow.

Extra special thanks to @dm-tuz , who's monsters are ALWAYS an inspiration.

Artsource

[cheezeybread]

Anon McGee is back to wreck the ol inbox :)

Not an Alice related thought this time [I'm ashamed to admit I've never actually played the game myself, I just remember my sister playing it when I was younger. That being said, supposed to get my hands on it this weekend, so we'll see if that sparks new thoughts 🙏], but I've been listening to a lot of Ghost lately and bring you something related to that instead. Just some short headcanons for the housewardens with an s/o who's, regardless of their aesthetic, an unexpectedly avid listener of things like Ghost [which is predominantly nu[?] metal with other genres in some of their other songs]. Like it just doesn't match up at all and it's just kind of jarring.

It's funny to me to imagine it as a sort of scenario where maybe the pair is busy doing something and one of them suggest they share a pair of earbuds to use as background noise and the mistake is made to give the reader control over what they're listening to and that's how the [to at least some of the housewardens, but likely not all of them] appalling reveal of reader's music taste is made. It's definitely not THAT bad, but it's like a punch in the gut when the last thing you're expecting is THIS.

[Also, just a side note, but if you've never listened to Ghost before, I recommend at least listening to "Darkness at the Heart of my Love" and "Mummy Dust" so you can get an idea of the range of their music. Maybe "Cirice" too. It's been kind of a hit or miss on talking to people about them lately, but with the movie having come out recently, I think they're getting around a bit more?]

YOU'VE NEVER ACTUALLY PLAYED THE GAME?? YOU TRAITOR! But at least you're getting the game now, atoning for your sins and whatnot- any new thoughts come around, feel free to wreck my inbox with them! XD

I've never heard of Ghost before, honestly- my music taste is absolutely an abomination! All I listen to is Fall Out Boy, musical songs and cheesy songs that have a veeeery clear storyline to them (I gotta picture a scenario to every song, it's easier that way, don't question it!), but honestly, those Ghost's songs are kind of a bop? I might add them to my Hype up playlist idk!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Poor buddy didn't get to listen to any music with words in it as a kid! He was only allowed to listen to classical orchestra music...so when he got to NRC, Riddle was absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that there were so MANY different genres!

His taste is still pretty old-timey, though.

He's the sort to put on a "Wolfgang Mozart's BOPS" playlist (if their world has a Mozart...) and bust it down to some sick piano notes if he's alone lmao

So when the two of you are studying in the courtyard, you get on the topic of music and how it might help with studies. Riddle explains his tastes, and you try to explain yours with a mumbled "it's complicated..."

In the end, he goads you into playing some of your music so he can understand how you think

He nearly passes away when you first hit play

DRUMS??? GUITARS THAT ARE ELECTRIC MAYBE??? BEATS THAT AREN'T KEPT IN TIME BY A METRONOME IN THE BACKGROUND???

He's convinced you were one of those rebel-teens like Deuce was for a moment, before dismissing the idea.

Riddle just...can't come to terms with the difference of vibes between what YOU give off and the music you listen to.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"Huh."

That's literally all he has to say on the matter for a few hours, as you blast your music on a speaker while you join the Savanaclaw dorm for their morning workout (whether you were actually working out, or just providing encouragement)

The other dorm members are vibing to it, for sure! Ruggie especially is busting down a move every time he gets a break

But Leona? He just says "huh" and...that's it. He doesn't seem too interested in it while he's practicing and working out.

At the end of practice, he comes up and sits with you in the shade, gnawing on a piece of jerky. After a little while, he mentions how he didn't expect a herbivore to have decent music tastes.

"Oh, so you liked it?" You question

"I didn't say that." he responds.

So does he like it?? Does he hate it???

You may never know???

Jk, Ruggie tells you in secret later that Leona was listening to Ghost in his room that afternoon.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Lounging around the Mostro Lounge after closing time, waiting for Azul to finish his "managerial" duties, Floyd convinces you to put on some "Human Vibes"...in other words, music. So you pull out your phone and set it in a glass cup to make the sound louder, and put on one of your main playlists.

Floyd is absolutely crushing it with the dance moves to the songs (literally "crushing it", he's about to crush several plates as he tries to dance while washing dishes)

Jade is silent throughout the ordeal, probably not even hearing it over the vaccuum he's running all over the lounge.

A few songs go through before Azul bursts out of his VIP room, looking absolutely furious.

He yells at Floyd to turn off the music, but the eel just shrugs and points at you without explaining

Azul turns to you, absolutely confused. You turn down the music to a reasonable level, apologizing if it disturbed his work

"What....do you listen to in your spare time?" Is his main question. You can't tell if he's disgusted or simply confused. Flabbergasted might be the best word for it, honestly.

After you explained to him that, yes, this was your music taste, Azul takes your hand in his and gets on his knees, pursing his lips

"We'll get you fixed, don't worry, you'll be fine." :'(

Don't worry, though, he's just kidding, for sure!

He won't even pretend to understand why you listen to it, but he's not going to be completely opposed if you were to play that sort of music every now and then!

KALIM AL-ASIM

Dude!! He loves it fr fr!!

He tries his best to like everything that life has to offer, appreciating it however he can, but he genuinely likes this! Even though he can safely say that he didn't expect you to like this sort of things.

But fully expect him to go down a rabbit-hole for Ghost. He's going to go through a hyper-fixation with it for a few weeks, adding in their songs to the playlists that he puts on a speaker during the dorm's parties and casual hangouts

For some strange reason, though, he wants you to know that he likes the music as much as you do, so Kalim might randomly burst out into one of their songs and insist that you dance with him to his own singing??

He's so silly, but isn't that why you started dating him in the first place?

VIL SCHOENHEIT

"Oh, love, this most definitely isn't the right music for you, are you sure?"

He's so concerned when you play it during a "spa night" in the Pomefiore dorm. He genuinely thinks that you're possessed by a ghost or something. With the way you acted half the time, this was...not the sort of song he was expecting.

It's okay, though, he'll come around, you just have to gentle-parent him with your music taste for a while.

"Aww, come on, how do you know that you hate it if you don't try it~?" (Speaking as if you're trying to get him to eat vegetables LOL)

But after a while, maybe, hopefully, he'll tolerate it just a little bit more...maybe

IDIA SHROUD

I'm ngl, Idia strikes me as the type to listen to this group (and music in general) on occasion, mainly when he's intently engaged on projects and needs to focus, and when he's doing reading in the library- although he rarely goes to the library to to his projects since it's in a public space, he's rather not have his music accidentally blast out while some pop music is playing...he'd much rather have it be Ghost.

So when you're over at the Ignihyde dorm to assist him with some new gidget, he asks you to put on some music to alleviate the silence (not that he particularly minds silent moments when it's around you, but music helps him focus). You don't even think twice before putting on one of Ghost's songs.

His shoulders IMMEDIATELY tense up because Idia's thinking "oh my gosh they got onto one of MY playlists, they're going to see everything I have, they're going to judge me omg omg"

But then you apologize for your music, and poor Idia relaxes straight away when he realizes that it's your music you're playing instead of his!

He definitely didn't think you'd listen to that kind of stuff, but who is he to complain when there's a common music-vibe between you two??

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Hey, Mal, you want to listen to some of my music?" You ask, holding out an earbud as the two of you sit together in the library.

Of course he's going to jump on the opportunity to hear some human music! Now, Malleus has mostly heard classical music, but he's heard bits and pieces of other pop songs here and there!

But as soon as he pops in the earbuds (after you painstakingly explain to him how to wear it), he goes silent and stock-still.

His eyes dilate and he's...just totally frozen (have you seen those memes of people listening to hardcore metal and putting their headphones on little hyperactive kids, who then go still? Yeah, that's how he is)

"This is superb music, my darling, did you make this yourself?" He's so excited, finally speaking once you turn off the music. You have to explain to Malleus that no, you didn't make any of this music, it's all stuff from other people.

Nonetheless, despite whatever vibe you give off, Malleus thinks that it's wonderful, and now will continue to associate this type of music with you forever and all eternity. Expect it to be playing every time you visit the Diasomnia dorm.

And everyone else in the dorm is going to be subjected to listening to it, as well. They all need to be well-versed in different genres of music, Malleus claims, and this kind especially is important (because it's your music!)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[urne-buriall]

i miss sotw dean

so do I. and sometimes I think about what would've happened if Cas had been at home the day Dean brought the bread, the night after their ill-fated first kiss:

Dean left Cesar’s making straight for Cas’ place, chewing on his thumbnail as he drove into town. Would Cas even be home? He’d probably be at work. Dean was counting on him being at work. He’d made bread, but he didn’t have anything like a speech prepared and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he saw Cas again.

He drove right past the laundromat, turned to go around the block, slowing himself down on purpose. Cas wouldn’t be there. Dean would leave a note. Because if Cas was there it could be very strange. Would he even want to see Dean? Would he want to invite him inside? The way Dean had shut him down last night, completely unwarranted, the bread might not be enough to counteract that. Dean briefly doubted whether Cas even wanted him that way to begin with, as if he might’ve made it all up. But his lips felt the ghost of Cas’ all over again. So passionate, so all-consuming. It was what all the couples in romance books kissed like. He knew how it felt, now. He hadn’t made that up.

He hid the trembling in his hands as he got out of his truck and made his way to the alley behind the laundromat. Vented air from the building smelled like detergent and dryer sheets, warm and thick. He’d feel like a criminal just heading this way if he hadn’t already visited so many times for GED studying. Those moments, too, he now thought of in a different light. Instead of sitting on the futon to go over notes, Cas might press him back into the couch with kisses…

Dean was convinced Cas wouldn’t be home, so when he rounded the corner and saw the motorbike parked, he stopped short. But Cas was walking distance from the vet clinic and used the truck for work, so he might still be out. Dean cast a glance up before he started up the metal steps. The sound of his feet announced him before he would even reach the top landing outside Cas’ front door.

He might not be home. Dean could leave the conchas on the patio table with a note. But if Cas was home, he would’ve heard someone come up the steps. Dean should knock and hope for no answer. He pulled back the screen door so he could knock on the door proper, then waited a fast moment.

Good. Nothing. He could release this complicated feeling of fear and disappointment and leave the container on the table.

The door opened before Dean could turn away.

Cas wore an old university t-shirt and a pair of dark green khaki shorts. He stood in the doorway very still, as much taken aback as Dean to find him standing there.

“Dean,” he said, voice lower and more gravelly than usual. For a moment Dean didn’t know what to think of being under Cas’ gaze again, wondering what he looked like to Cas in this moment, wondering what he thought. And then Cas’ eyes flicked past Dean towards the empty staircase. It was brief—already Cas was looking at him again—but it was telling.

He was afraid Dean had come here with others. He was afraid Dean had come with ill-intent.

“Cas, I—” Dean’s voice caught in his throat. He had to clear it unexpectedly. “I um. I made you bread.”

Cas looked down at the container Dean offered out, then back up at Dean with a furrowed brow like he didn’t understand.

“They’re, uh, conchas,” said Dean. “Like we had at Cesar’s after we brought the mustang.”

Cas’ head began to tip at an angle, putting pieces together but not with much confidence.

“I spent the morning there,” Dean finished. “Making these. Talking to Cesar. I— I wanted to give you something. To say sorry.”

Cas slowly took the container from Dean. He remained strangely still, taut, his face giving next to nothing away. “Sorry?” said Cas.

“For not letting you say anything last— last night,” said Dean. “You wanted to talk and I— I wasn’t very nice.”

Cas dropped his gaze down, mouth looking sad and severe. He took a breath and said, “I’m not sure what you want me to say now.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a plea. Dean felt like he’d been as clear as he could be, dropping those breadcrumbs. He’d talked to Cesar. He made conchas for Cas. He was sorry for not giving Cas a chance to talk, but he wasn’t sorry for the rest of it. But Cas wasn’t a guy who worked with coded messages.

“Well,” said Dean, and he looked from around the landing back to Cas. This wasn’t the kind of thing you stood outside for. “If you wanted to invite me in, we could start there?”

“You want to come in?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, I— Yeah,” said Dean.

Cas looked thoughtful but he stepped back, letting Dean inside. Dean’s heart beat faster just passing close by Cas. The room was warm but there were a couple of windows open and Cas had the fan going, keeping it from feeling stuffy. Cas passed Dean to set the container of conchas on the table. He stopped there, looking down at them, far from confident in his next step.

Dean wondered for the first time if he really had broken things irremediably. He thought he could bring some bread over and make things right just like that? After breaking Cas’ heart into pieces by being so careless and cruel the night before?

“I freaked out.” Dean’s own voice surprised him. Quiet and strained and uncertain. He didn’t even know where the words came from, unbidden but completely honest. “I never even thought of— of kissing a guy before.” It was so vulnerable he looked down at his shoes, feeling red touch his cheeks, even as he could tell that Cas now looked over. “And I just— I like you so much, Cas, and I was worried I ruined everything, and I got scared, and then I did ruin everything. But uh, you know, my whole life just changed less than twenty-four hours ago and I just… wanna make it right.”

“Changed?” said Cas, taking a step closer.

“I’ve been trying to be something I’m not,” said Dean.  “My whole life. And then you came along. You came back. And I— I didn’t know what it meant to me. Until last night.”

Cas lifted his chin, his shoulders evening out from their previous despondent slope. “So when you said… You’re ‘not like that’...”

Dean shook his head, meeting Cas’ gaze even though it was terrifying to be so bold and honest. “It wasn’t true,” said Dean. “But… I needed some time to figure it out.”

“You talked to Cesar,” said Cas, fitting that piece of information into context now.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I’m sorry about icing you out last night. It wasn’t fair. Are you… are you okay?”

Cas’ head tipped again as if he hadn’t expected that question. He had to think about the answer. He eventually said, “Yeah. Now.” He wet his lips and said, “Dean. I wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to say… all these things to you. I wasn’t going to push. I would’ve listened.”

“I’m sorry for that part,” said Dean. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you.”

“I was afraid I ruined things,” said Cas.

He was afraid of more than that. Dean couldn’t forget the way Cas glanced at the steps as if Dean might’ve turned up here with backup. Dean took a small step forward. “Can we start over?” he asked. “Forget I made such a mess?”

Cas glanced at Dean’s lips, a telling gesture. Exactly what Dean wanted. “Starting over,” said Cas. “Does that mean…”

“I wanna kiss you again,” said Dean. “And this time I won’t run away.”

Cas closed the last distance between them. His hand rose to cradle Dean’s jaw and Dean swore his heart leapt to his mouth in time for their lips to meet. This kiss was so tender and yet it was so much more than Dean had ever felt with any of the rare girls he’d agreed to date. Cas felt so much more real, so solid. And while this felt so much more enlivening than any other kiss, Dean found himself drifting within it, as if he’d been unmoored into a dream.

When they kissed away they kept their faces close, Cas’ head bowed and resting against Dean’s forehead. His thumb brushed across Dean’s chin, tracing just faintly against Dean’s lower lip. Dean’s heart thudded in his chest.

“You aren’t running away,” Cas stated.

“No,” said Dean. “I wanna stay right here.”

Cas made a sound like his breath catching. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

There was something else in it. Something deeper than Dean understood. Not dangerous, not bad, but imbued with meaning he didn’t have all the clues to decipher.

[wearethekat]

February Book Reviews: Rules for Ghosting by Shelly Jay Shore

I picked up this book because it was recommended by author KJ Charles as one of her best books of 2024. In Rules for Ghosting, trans Ezra has separated himself from his family's Jewish funeral home business because he can see ghosts. But when Ezra unexpectedly loses his job at the same time his mother leaves the business, Ezra is forced back home to help with the accounting--in close proximity to both the ghosts and Ezra's handsome, recently widowed housemate, who volunteers there.

This is a sweet romance novel focused mostly on Ezra's family drama. He's a recovering ex eldest daughter, and struggles with anxiety and feeling unsupported. On top of which he has to deal with being furloughed from his job, and the family crisis when his mother confesses to having an affair with a woman and leaves the family. Ezra's crush on Jonathan, who lives in his house as well as volunteers with the funeral home, takes second stage to Ezra's complex relationship with his parents and two siblings. The paranormal aspect trails at a distant third--there's no underlying paranormal worldbuilding, Ezra just has the ability to see ghosts mostly as a convenient plot device and thematic element about being haunted by the past.

I also liked that Ezra is an observant, practicing Jew, which isn't very common in romance novels. While Ezra has complicated feelings about his religion, it's something he's deeply embedded in regardless. Ezra's mother confesses to the affair during Passover seder, and a major plot point occurs while eating kosher marshmallows during Lag B'Omer. The plot important family funeral home does Jewish burials and is struggling to hold out against being bought by a big conglomerate.

Recommended for anyone who'd enjoy a romance light on the romance but with excellent family dynamics.

[theizzifromosaka]

I'm Back

Remember when I made those monster categories and said I'd test them out? I went out and looked for some monsters from various sources to try and categorize, and my system mostly holds up.

Here's that post btw, TL:DR the categories were Natural, Extraterrestrial, Paranormal, Artificial and Deific

Reporting my findings, source by source:

Pokemon are mostly what you'd expect. Mostly Natural, a few Paranormal, extraterrestrial and Artificial and a handful of Deific.

There were a few interesting cases I found all in the same vein, where the Pokemon appears artificial or supernatural but is organic

Digimon isn't all that complicated past the initial concept, they're interdimensional beings who can only exist in digital form outside of their home dimension, so they're all Extraterrestrial.

Classic Movie Monsters are once again pretty simple for the most part, but things unexpectedly started to get a bit complicated here.

Dracula, The Wolf Man and The Mummy are all paranormal, Frankenstein adds Artificial to that and the Gill-Man is completely Natural. Surprisingly it was the Invisible Man that threw a wrench into the works, his story is he developed a chemical that rendered him permanently invisible, which I initially made a judgement call on and placed into Supernatural.

Toho is where my earlier judgement call would have to be made again, and where I initially considered making a new category. A lot of weird monsters come from here.

First, a few of the easy ones. Mothra has some vague details in her backstory but it's pretty clear she's either Paranormal or Deific. Jet Jaguar is a human made robot so he's Artificial and Mechagodzilla is a robot of extraterrestrial origin so he's Extraterrestrial/Artificial and many others such as Gigan are simply aliens.

The guy Goji himself, as well as several other monsters such as Biollante and Orga, however, brought up the same issue as The Invisible Man. My phrasing of Paranormal in my previous post was simply "things that should not exist", which ends up encompassing these monsters in a way I didn't really expect.

Godzilla and Orga are monsters who started off much more ordinairy before being mutated in differnt ways, and Biollante and The Invisible Man were intentionally mutated. As a result, I'm considering adding a new category for creatures like this:

Mutant

An otherwise normal creature that has been altered in a significant way, usually ending up as something completely unique

I'm still not sure about this as a category, and I may also change the description to exclude Cyborgs, or the name to better include them, which the description I wrote is vague enough to encompass.

Yu-Gi-Oh also introduces a new complication, though this one's pretty easy to sort out. Specifically, many of its monsters exist in many states which vary the monster's categorization.

The first stage that includes just about every Yu-Gi-Oh monster is the in universe and IRL card games, in which the monster's categorization heavily relies on the card's flavor text if it's present, and must be intuited if not.

The second stage which includes very few monsters is the in universe origins of the monsters depicted on the cards, which don't vary as much as they work very similarly to Jojo stands or Personas from the Persona series. They're mostly supernatural, with exceptions including the Egyptian Gods, who would be Deific.

The same separation concept exists in Scooby-Doo funnily enough (maybe it's a hyphen thing), where there's the perceived nature of the monster, for instance Space Kook being an alien or The Phantom being a ghost, and the creature's true nature as a regular human, which I guess would put them under the Natural category.

Scooby-Doo will occasionally subvert this trope by having the monster being real, such as Charlie the Robot being an actual robot or the Zombies in Zombie Island being real. There are many examples, though the series has been going on for so long it's still relatively underutilized. Other than that it's usually straightforward.

I still need to see if "Mutant" is even necessary, and if it is it needs to be reworked, but my system held up surprisingly well.

[ninja-muse]

This month's last-minute review is brought to you by something of a reading slump. I've read a fair number of good books this month, if you look at the ratings I've given them, but no books that I've gotten excited about, that I've felt were unexpectedly good enough that I had to talk about it.

Until now.

Lovecraft Country was my first Matt Ruff, and it's not going to be the last. It's well-written, with strong characters and good humour, and a really interesting structure. It's a smart book, and feels very grounded and real. Is it an astounding book? No, but it does its thing very well and I enjoyed reading it more than I thought I would.

Let's start with the structure, because that's one of the things that impressed me most. It's a novel-of-stories, with each chapter being a different character on their own adventure, but there's still a narrative arc for the book, clues the characters gather and the readers pick up on, and nastiness that builds and builds until the final showdown. It's a tough structure to pull off, but Ruff's done it.

I also liked that the structure lent itself very well to a sort of puzzle-box story. You get all these clues and hints about what's truly going on, even if you don't realize that till later, and even though you kind of know where the book is going, watching everything slowly slot into place and trying to put everything together before the characters do is a good part of the fun. It's a lot like watching good SFnal TV, which Ruff's author's note says this was meant to be; you get invested in the characters and the individual "episodes", but there's meaning in that key, that comic book, that thing in the forest. Surely there must be, but how?

And the characters! I loved all the point-of-view characters—they're smart, opinionated, complicated, aware of the forces acting against them and doing what they can to avoid them. I was scared for them, I wanted them to succeed, all that good stuff. The white people are also believably drawn, in that they're self-important, greedy, and used to power, but also, when the story allows for us to see it, sympathetic and complicated all the same.

It's hard to say whether this is science fiction or fantasy, but it's definitely in that wheelhouse rather than being a straight-up historical novel. There are ghosts and monsters and grimoires and secret dimensions and a lot of other stuff you might expect to find in a book that's influenced by pulp fiction and early sci-fi and horror. But, as with a lot of genre work that tackles such things these days, Ruff has fun with this stuff while also adding a social twist to them. In this case, having a Black cast allows Ruff to illuminate and comment on the racism inherit to the 1950s. There's humour to it, but in a way that helps the points hit home.

And that brings me to the last thing I need to mention: that this is a book about Black people written by a white man. It's also written primarily for white people, as far as I can tell, because while the characters take redlining and sundown towns for granted, Ruff doesn't assume that his readers will even know what those are or, if they do, be aware how they actually impact people. However, Ruff's also done his research and tackled the subject thoughtfully. The characters don't conform to stereotypes but are definitely informed by their pasts. The stuff they face goes beyond the usual talking points of Black History For White People; there's mention of boycotts of racist businesses, the Tulsa race massacre, the intricacies of buying real estate while Black, the difficulties of loving science fiction when everyone who writes it hates you. And of course he acknowledges that dealing with racist BS on a daily basis and constantly being underestimated puts you at an advantage when there's some really massive BS going down. I thought Ruff handled it all very well, without being heavy-handed or going into anything that he couldn't do justice. (Well, maybe Ruby's story. I need to think about that one more.)

So yeah, I was surprised by this book on a few fronts, and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. The humour and love of SF tropes, balanced with the antiracism and social commentary, was right up my alley, and the way Ruff told the story was the cherry on top. Like I said, it's not an amazing book—it might have pushed the boundaries of speculative fiction when it came out but it certainly doesn't now—but it entertains and enlightens and does so cleverly. This won't be my last Matt Ruff, like I said above, but I'm also not likely to pick up another one for a while. Maybe in a year or two when I get a hankering for the sort of stuff he does.

[blogger360ncislarules]

Ghosts’ Season 4 Christmas special checked off several items on our holiday wish list, including the much-anticipated twist that let Jay see the spirits.

The hijinks began while Sam and Jay were trying to fix their broken water heater ahead of his parents’ visit. Unfortunately for the couple (but fortunately for us viewers), they forgot to turn off the power and were zapped, resulting in Sam and Jay being possessed by Nancy and Pete, respectively.

Sam was able to eventually “evict” Nancy, but only after the ghost went to town on some guacamole and unexpectedly bonded with Jay’s disapproving mother. Getting Pete out of Jay’s body, however, proved to be more complicated since he has the power to leave the property without being expelled. So Sam staged an exorcism — but Pete’s soul is so pure that it was Jay who got kicked out of his own body! At least the concerning turn of events allowed Jay to finally interact with the ghosts.

Meanwhile, Pete kidnapped Jay’s body to go visit his daughter, who is moving to Australia. As “Jay” told her how proud her father would be of her and hugged her, Pete’s spirit separated from Jay, leaving Sam’s husband in a zombie-like state. Using the faulty lamp and Sonic fries as bait, Sam lured zombie Jay into being zapped so her hubby could come back to life.

Below, stars Rose McIver and Utkarsh Ambudkar talk about how they tackled the double possession, how getting to see the ghosts will bring Sam and Jay closer together, and which possessions are on their wish lists for each other.

TVLINE | What a gift of an episode for the both of you. You get so much to do, from the double possession to meeting Jay’s parents to Jay getting to see the ghosts. What was your favorite part? ROSE MCIVER | It was incredible to get to play, especially Nancy and Pete, they’re just such iconic characters, and to get to throw a dart at who they are and what they bring… Especially for Sam, I found it so liberating, being able to kind of shake off her properness or her sort of sense of making people happy and appealing to other people, and just to be able to be completely free and liberated. Nancy was such a joy. UTKARSH AMBUDKAR | Well, I’m happy that we get to see Rose be sort of the comedic engine of the first half of this Christmas special. I think she has to do so much technical heavy lifting every episode as Sam to just let everybody else shine. She facilitates a lot of other people’s success. So for her to have a chance to really go for it was super funny. Watching her eat that guacamole was disgusting, and she went to town on it. MCIVER | You mean gorgeous? AMBUDKAR | It was harrowing to look at, but it was really funny. It was hilarious. She made me laugh so much. MCIVER | Do you remember that lunch, I had bought my lunch in advance, and it was a guacamole quesadilla? That is what I had ordered for lunch, and then I finished that scene and I, honestly, looked at the lunch box and wanted to be sick. AMBUDKAR | Yeah, no, thank you. And I was so glad that Jay’s parents get to join us finally, and now we’ve met all of the sort of immediate relatives of our two humans. MCIVER | And honestly, that stuff where you’re talking to your dad about Mahesh, naming [the restaurant] after him and this storyline, it was so resonate. We have a lot of people who’ve immigrated to different countries or families that have immigrated to different countries in our immediate cast and crew, and people were really affected by your performance and what you were saying, what you were talking about. It was a great storyline. It was [a] surprisingly moving moment for being on set of a comedy where we’re normally laughing all day, every day.

TVLINE | When you see that you have a double possessions storyline coming up in the script, how do you prepare for that? Did you go back and watch old episodes? Do you start paying more attention to your co-stars? MCIVER | I definitely went back and watched old episodes, and then also, Betsy [Sodaro] was so generous and recorded herself performing all of the lines that I would be performing as Nancy, and she sent them to me. She filmed them at home. [It] would have taken a substantial amount of time. It was very kind of her. And she said she felt like she was auditioning to play herself, which is pretty surreal and very unfair experience to have at this point. She should not be auditioning for anything ever, in my mind. Then on set, she was also able to come and sit behind the monitors quite often and run in and offer little ideas or thoughts or just kind of course-correct me. So she was very, very generous, and I’m such a fan of her as a person and as an actor, and it was really nice to be able to kind of collaborate like this.

TVLINE | Whose voice was harder to get: hers or Thor’s? MCIVER | Well, I only learned this episode about finding a gateway word to help you find the voice. So for me, it was “Stuart.” So anytime I got lost, I would just think about how she says “Stuart” when she’s talking to him in the basement. [Ambudkar laughs] I said, “Oh, my God, the blooper reel is going to be horrific.” Me just 50,000 times in the middle of scenes going, “Stuart, Stuart, Stuart, Stuart.” AMBUDKAR | On the flipside, I tried to do the same approach with Richie [Moriarty] and I was like, “Hey, Rose is having Betsy record her lines. Can you do it for me, too?” and Richie was like, “Yeah, yeah, of course, of course.” But he shares a [trailer] wall with Brandon Scott Jones, and he was feeling very self-conscious about doing his lines and having Brandon hear him. So he whispered all of his lines into a tape recorder and then sent that to me, and I was like, “Richie, what the hell am I going to do with this?” So, basically, if you see my impression of Pete as being understated and almost at below room-tone volume, it’s because I copied Richie whispering into his phone.

TVLINE | Utkarsh, you have to play a lot of Pete’s emotional beats in this episode. How was that for you? Was there a sense of responsibility that you felt, taking on another character’s big emotional arc? AMBUDKAR | I don’t think of it like that, really. I just was thinking about what it would be like to just be a dad, talk to your daughter, just tell her how proud I was of her. I don’t really know how to explain it. I just was sort of playing the love. MCIVER | You, also, were able to physically embody a connection with his daughter, which is pretty special. I mean, he was able to hug and hold his daughter in his arms like that, and as a father, I’m sure, I can’t think of something you’d long for more if you were unable to hold your daughter in your arms. AMBUDKAR | The episode, also, was so technically involved. That shot when I hug our daughter and then it pulls out, and it’s Richie playing Pete, and you get to actually see Pete holding his daughter for the first time, shots like that took an hour, hour and a half, two hours just to get right. So you’re sort of, technically, trying to stay in the right place. I hope Richie’s happy with it when he sees it. I don’t really mind because the dude got, like, 10 days off of work because I had to play his role. So however he feels about it is like, “You’re good, dawg. You’re good. I did my work and your work. Just be happy.” [Laughs]

TVLINE | Do you wish it had lasted longer? AMBUDKAR | I mean, selfishly, as an actor, yeah, of course, I want more time. I wish that Jay and Pete got to meet each other, but, obviously, because of the storyline, we didn’t get to. But yeah, I, for sure, would have taken another one or two episodes of being a ghost or being in that world, but I think for our story and for the overall message and energy of our show, this was the perfect amount.

TVLINE | Does this change Jay��s relationship with the ghosts moving forward? Does he have a new way of thinking about them now that he’s actually met them? AMBUDKAR | You know, I think for a guy who loves his wife unconditionally but up until this point has, basically, been operating on blind faith, I think he finally gets to see what Sam has to go through on a daily basis, and I think it’s less about his interaction with the ghosts and way more about his connection to his wife, which I think is sort of Jay’s heartbeat. That’s what makes him who he is, is how he can support Sam in the objective insanity that is her life. But I think, hopefully, it makes them stronger and brings their bond closer. MCIVER | Yeah, she has to live it, but he has to live without it. She has all of this company, and she has these people around her all day. We regularly talk about how fun it would be to see a full episode which is actually from Jay’s perspective, and how isolating that is… [Anything that] helps them understand each other’s perspectives more seems like it would be very beneficial for their relationship.

TVLINE | Rose, did you feel like you were in iZombie for a minute there when Jay turned into a zombie? MCIVER | Yeah. I have the line in [the episode]: “I hate zombies.” Did they keep that?

TVLINE | Yeah, they did. MCIVER | Oh, good. Yeah, it was a nice little nod. It was very fun. It did feel like getting transported back to Vancouver in 2018.

TVLINE | Is there anybody from iZombie that you would love to see guest-star on the show? MCIVER | I mean, Rahul [Kohli] and Malcolm [Goodwin] and Aly [Michalka] would be like a dream. But we always talk about trying to get Rahul in. Utkarsh knows him as well and is a fan as well. So that would be really, really wonderful. Any of those three. I think that, tonally, obviously there’s some good overlap in terms of iZombie and Ghosts, so I feel like they would translate very well into this universe.

TVLINE | If you could pick one character for the other to be possessed by, which one would it be? MCIVER | I would love for Jay to be possessed by Flower because I know how much he adores Sheila [Carrasco], and we all admire her work so much and the character she’s built, and how contradictory her character is is so fun. She can be such different versions of herself, and it tracks. So I think that would be really cool to see Jay being possessed by Flower. AMBUDKAR | I think Trevor. Sam is so disgusted by most of Trevor’s outlook on life that I think for her to be possessed by him would be very funny. I think watching Rose pull the “T-Money” would be very funny.

[themculibrary]

Angry Kissing Masterlist

A is for Asphyxiation (ao3) - shieldslut steve/tony E, 2k

Summary: Tony's used to messing up on missions, and he's used to an angry Captain America yelling at him for it... but this? This is new.

Angry Kiss (ao3) - thegreenwomanswalkman steve/natasha G, 794

Summary: Maybe fighting while angry isn't the best idea, but it's the best way to get over the UST between them.

Borrowed, Stolen, Sworn and Sealed (ao3) - Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1) peter/mary jane T, 4k

Summary: Every kiss Peter and MJ share is different but in the end, they all boil down in translation to the same three words.

Don't Talk Just Kiss (ao3) - Dormammu steve/tony G, 2k

Summary: Steve and Tony are at Club A, each thinking about their never realized friendship and crush on the other and that the other hates him.

Fit The Profile (ao3) - WaterHorseyBlues loki/mobius N/R, 77k

Summary: Violent attacks, attempted murder and an unclaimed inheritance. Loki's dull life is interrupted when he's unexpectedly taken as a hostage one night. Private Detective Mobius is on the case, and Loki grasps at the chance to turn his life around and hunt down the perpetrator. What at first seems like unmotivated violence caused by an untraceable ghost soon turns into something much bigger than either Loki or Mobius could have expected. Could the answer lie in Loki's past? Or is something far more sinister going on?

He Doesn't Need Me Anymore (ao3) - loricameback steve/bucky T, 690

Summary: What really happened after Steve rescued Bucky from Red Skull.

In the End in Wonderland We Both Went Mad (ao3) - snarkysweetness skye/grant M, 1k

Summary: After a mission gone awry Skye and Ward get into a very heated shouting match that has unforeseen consequences.

Let my love erase all your doubts (ao3) - Mimisempai loki/mobius M, 1k

Summary: While traveling with Loki in Asgard on a mission for the TVA, Mobius stumbles upon what appears to be a tender moment between Sif and his lover. When Loki finds him in their room, Mobius lets his jealousy take possession of him to Loki's great surprise.

Let's Hear It For Captain America! (ao3) - Magnetism_bind steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: A missing scene from Captain America: The First Avenger

Marked For Good (ao3) - buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle) steve/bucky E, 1k

Summary: Steve Rogers is noble to a fault, and that's how he manages to get himself into really dumb predicaments more often than not. Bucky Barnes is fed up. In fact, he's so fed up he decides a spanking's in order. They both end up enjoying it way more than either expect.

Nine Days Of Loki (ao3) - EarthAngelGirl30 loki/sif N/R, 74k

Summary: The Lady Sif has been given a mission. She's been sent to Midgard with orders to bring the troublesome trickster Loki, back to Asgard. He's been in hiding amongst the mortals after fleeing the realm eternal, in order to escape the wrath of Odin, as well as Thanos who still has a score to settle with him. With his magical abilities, Sif isn't able to apprehend him easily and inadvertently becomes his hostage. When their hatred of each other begins evolving into something more complicated, her integrity, loyalty and honour will be tested. Likewise, Loki even begins questioning his reasons for holding her captive in the first place. Unless she can convince him to return, Sif may end up being stranded on Midgard indefinitely, and who knows what fate may befall her captor. But with the possibility of Heimdall observing all, as she's pushed to the limit, will whatever happens on Midgard...stay on Midgard?

oh captain, my captain (ao3) - silentstreets steve/tony M, 1k

Summary: steve's angry so tony's angry and they make out wow

Staring at the Sun (ao3) - Silver17Springs yelena/kate E, 11k

Summary: After spending Christmas with the Barton family, Kate remembers the blonde assassin who left and is determined to find her and remind her that she still had people. She finds, her, but the second part doesn't go so well.

Or, the "Yelena is super fucked up and people ignore her trauma" trope where Kate Bishop gets thrown a learning curve about how to deal with a ticking bomb of a human person.

Surrounded, Surrounded (ao3) - ryry_peaches steve/bucky G, 3k

Summary: Before the battle in Wakanda, Steve and Bucky take a little time to catch up, resolve some things and remind one another what they're fighting for.

Take Me, Quake Me (ao3) - tisfan robbie/skye E, 2k

Summary: Robbie's got a demon inside him... And Daisy was never big on caution.

The Only One For Me (ao3) - scarletvisionforever wanda/vision T, 1k

Summary: PROMPT: Fighting that leads to an angry kiss~

under the neon lights (all I see is you) (ao3) - smish1 steve/bucky E, 9k

Summary: Bucky expresses some feelings with the help of karaoke, Asgardian mead and some bad decisions.

We Don't Kiss & Tell (ao3) - STARSdidathing loki/tony T, 4k

Summary: The first time it happened, they were in the middle of an argument.

[dreamy625]

Up in smoke - ficlet

Words: 540

Content: not really sure what this is, just something that popped into my head when I was trying to work out how a ghost could smoke for my Halloween fic Mystery machine

-----------------------------

“Do you mind if I…?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “God, I really miss smoking.”

“Oh, you can’t…? But you can talk fine? Doesn’t that need breath too?”

“No, sound’s just energy again. I’m talking with my mind, not my vocal chords.” He gives a short laugh, “My lips moving is just habit apparently.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“The smell. And the nicotine rush of course.”

“So you can’t smell either?”

“Not exactly. Ghosts can sort of… absorb things… I think. I can sense the smoke. And the traffic fumes. And the flowers on that grave. And your perfume. But it’s not quite the same. It’s from the outside, not inside, like it is if you inhale.”

Cassie thinks for a moment, “What if… you wanna try an experiment?”

“Okay…”

She turns on the bench to fully face him, “Um, I think I’ll need you to close your eyes.” He does so, but then she has another thought, “Can you still see me? Is that another energy thing? This is so complicated!”

“I know you’re there, but no, I can’t see what you’re doing.”

“Good, now open your mouth.”

“Why? What are you going to…”

“Ah ha, you can speak with your mind - I heard that but your mouth didn’t close at all.”

Steve relaxes a little, understanding what the experiment is about. But then he feels warmth and the fizzy sensation of an alive person very close to him, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, a rush of air and smoke which seems to fill his head.

He must look comically surprised because Cassie giggles. 

“Wha… what did you do?” Again this comes direct from his brain as he’s too stunned to use his mouth.

“I blew smoke in your mouth! Sorry, was it gross? I probably should have asked, shouldn't I?”

“No, it’s… I…” He feels dizzy. Good-dizzy. “Do it again - no, wait, can I open my eyes?”

She feels suddenly shy, “Yeees, but… are you sure you want me to do this?”

“Definitely.” He manages to move his lips to emphasise the word before parting them once more in anticipation. 

Cassie takes a drag on the cigarette, careful to keep the inhalation shallow, and leans forwards, their eyes locking until they get too close to focus. She exhales the smoke in more of an elongated haaah this time, and Steve tries in vain to focus on the sensation of the chemicals entering what now passes for his body rather than on the closeness of another.

“Wow.”

“Did it work? Did you get a nicotine rush?”

“Something like that.”

It has not escaped his attention that Cassie has moved back only a couple of inches. It has not escaped her attention that Steve, still with his mouth open, is staring at her lips. 

“What does it feel like, if we… if you… if a ghost and a human… touch?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t… with a live person… since. I’ve read it feels cold.”

“I could feel something, just from being near. But not cold, more like… tingly?”

“That’s how it feels for me too.” There’s a beat where neither of them says anything, then he suggests, “We could… do another experiment?”

She smiles, “Okay.”

[angstmonsterwrites]

There's a friend who's become very distant and who I therefore don't know how to approach anymore, so I'm going to express some of what I've been thinking and feeling here.

We had what I thought was a good talking relationship for about 3 years, but looking back--especially over the past year--I think I see a subtle pattern of distancing, as though maybe it was always their intention to slowly break it off.

I don't know why. I have a smattering of suspicions--some that greatly worry me for their sake, and others that just hurt--but nothing conclusive. (And certainly nothing I'm *ever* going to detail here, as much of it relates to complicated, stressful matters that are not at all mine to tell.)

At this point, it's been over six months since we last really talked.

I won't deny that I bear at least some responsibility for the silence. I am not nor have ever really been great at being the one to start conversations, but I did give it an effort for a while, because I gave/give a pretty big damn about this one. Otherwise...well, I've been burned enough times that I often find myself revisiting the belief that if anyone wants anything to do with me, they'll come to me. A lot of unkind voices in my life have made it abundantly clear that I should be extremely wary of even the appearance of inviting myself, so when I come to feel like I'm being pushed away, that's the headspace I tend to wind up in. I don't agree with those old unkind voices, but I prefer not to risk the particularly doomed and shamed feelings that come with being unexpectedly told that I'm unwelcomed or unwanted.

But...I suppose that it wouldn't be so unexpected now. I've waited. I've sent tiny, continous signals to indicate I'm still around with no intention to ghost, but it's come to feel like I've been *all but* ghosted.

I never wanted anything much but this friend's happiness and safety, and to be part of that, but I fear and deeply suspect there simply isn't room in their life for me anymore. In all honesty, a part of me hopes that they're just being really fucking petty, never truly enjoyed my company but struggled to be honest about it, or aren't who I thought they were in some other significant way---because the alternative is that there's a lot going wrong or messy for them that has them shutting down and isolating to some degree, and I don't want that for them.

But...what I want for myself is closure or clarity. This half-grieving limbo state is taking a pretty heavy toll on me emotionally, and if it really is time to walk away for good, I want to know that for a fact. I wouldn't beg or plead for a change of heart. I wouldn't lash out, hurling accusations or slander. As much as humanly possible, I would simply leave the matter in peace and deal with my feelings privately, with both parties' dignity intact.

[brightbeautifulthings]

The Corruption of Hollis Brown by K. Ancrum

"'You're just a house I'm haunting.'"

Year Read: 2025

Rating: 5/5

Thoughts: Holy shit. It's unprecedented for my first book of the year to be a five-star read, but this is exactly my kind of weird. I adored Ancrum's The Wicker Man, and fans of that one are sure to find a lot to like about this. The vibes are very similar, and anyone who didn't like it is going to run into similar problems here. While I would argue this book is at least as much romance as horror (and even surprisingly wholesome at times), it's still very much a horror novel, and I would maybe tack a "dark" onto that romance descriptor as a warning. But it's also right in the description that Hollis falls in love with the being possessing him, so… were you expecting it to be all fluffy and wholesome? It's complicated and dark and toxic at times, and since I'm disturbed (obviously) I love that about it. As with most enemies to lovers stories, it turns out it's very hard to hate someone once we understand them.

Hollis and Walt's relationship is the main focus of the novel, and I adored both of them. They're the best kinds of shades of gray characters, neither entirely good nor entirely bad. I'll admit it's creepy as hell when Hollis is first possessed. It's not often a book gives me genuine chills like that. It's also surprisingly erotic for characters who can't touch each other in the usual ways, and there are some unexpectedly sweet moments too as they come to learn and care for each other. There's so much emotion packed into this book, from terror to love, and both boys are heartbreakingly seventeen. The relationship reminds me of Symbrock (Eddie + Venom) without the superhero angle, in that it's nontraditional and a little codependent but also ultimately symbiotic: they are better together than they are apart. I also liked Hollis's two best friends, Annie and Yulia, and they bring some additional queer/poc rep to the novel.

Ancrum's chapters are so brief, it made me feel like I was flying through them. The only time the pace lagged a little for me was after the exorcism, when the characters spin their wheels a bit trying to decide what to do about Rose Town. Admittedly, that plot isn't as strong as it could have been, and the conclusion for it is a bit quick and obscure. At that point, I didn't really care though. The main thrust of the novel is Hollis and Walt's relationship, with the ghost town being more of a side plot. Overall, I loved it, and I'll be looking for a copy for my shelf when it comes out. I received a free e-ARC through NetGalley from the publishers at HarperCollins.

[yungfrieda]

11.17.23

i felt way more like myself today than i have in several MONTHS

which is probably why i'm here writing this right now. it's a good thing because i've felt the urge to express myself in an honest way for a gooood while now.

a lot has happened. it's been a few months since i've written here but it just goes to show how much life happens even when it feels like the same day over and over again. since the last thing i've written, i've felt like i've taken the backseat to my life. at least since the end of august, and it's november now. through all of it, i've been dragging my physical body around operating solely from the cockpit of my mind. i lacked the proper sense of awareness about my own body. when i felt it - i was (am?) utterly repulsed by the feeling of it. by my own behavior and my physical being. spooked like seeing a ghost, and deeply ashamed.

either way, i've been there despite feeling an 'out-of-body' vibe about it. here's what happened though -

worked as an Associate Producer for a 3-day festival in Atlanta, GA. it was a 'win' given how long i've wanted to work for the producing agency partner. bucket list fulfilled, but so much sanity lost as a result. one of those projects that has you rocking back and forth in a corner, convincing yourself it will open "so many more doors"

Zach got a job that has him out of state for several months at a time - which has me feeling extremely mixed emotions. we were never in a committed relationship, but spent a lot time having amazing experiences together and keeping each other in good spirits. now tho? it's more like we're both throwing emotional weight around. my head tells me to pull back but my heart feels a sense of guilt and obligation. he's been there for me and has done a lot for me in the past. i want to show up those same ways, but maybe don't have all of the endless patience that i'd like to.

this is recent, but i find myself thinking about ian and a short term fling from earlier this year very frequently, way more than i'm comfortable with. i wish i could flush my brain with bleach. i simply sit and observe the flashback reels in my mind, without wishing i could recreate them - but it hurts so much more than drifting away on having hope that it's possible.

my best friend brad spent some time, unexpectedly, on a ventilator after a surgery complication. this is the type of thing that reminds you how fragile life is and how easy it can be to lose, on your own or in the hands of someone else, a surgery team or what have you. it really punctuated a season where one is meant to feel thankful for what they have, because you never know when a person in your life might potentially leave you. thankfully, my friend is alright. he's on a fast road of recovery and i'm so, so grateful.

i've been spending a lot more time with my family lately and traveling back to Pennsylvania which has been a big overwhelming moment mentally. there's a LOT going on back home and moving away keeps me insulated from it. by "it" i mean being involved in a situation that i know has no winning equation, but doing so because someone or the other wants you to be on their side. i'm not good for taking up other people's righteous causes in the first place, but had i stayed - i know i could have been militarized for someone's cause. so with my neutral position, i get the opportunity to spend time and chat with family members who might have assumed i was "aligned with the enemy" otherwise. that's important to me. i've thought about moving home when i'm back there. i don't know if it's the familiarity of it or the "what if" factor - but i'm staying where tf i'm at.

i've felt a sense of needing to settle down lately. i'm tired. even after the fugue state, i still feel incredibly exhausted by constantly raizing everything i've known to create something new. i've created - up to this point, and finally feel ready to collaborate with the things i can't control.

[stormkobra-5]

The House of Fett

Pairing: Poe Dameron x ForceUser!Mando!Reader

Chapter No.: 1/28

[Series Masterlist]

Summary: You're Y/N Janghis Fett, the only daughter of the infamous bounty hunter himself. When you were eight years old, you discovered quite by accident that you were Force-sensitive, and so your father Boba sought out the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, who would, for the next eight years of your life, be your mentor in the ways of the Force-- but you are no Jedi. You are a Mandalorian, even if you do happen to wield lightsabers. However, when the Sith Lord Kylo Ren-- whom you once knew as Ben-- begins to seek out your old mentor for terrible purposes, you're met with the familiar face of Poe Dameron, who is requesting your aid, and you agree to help him only once. But when Luke is not where you think, sending you and Poe on a galaxy-wide hunt for your elusive mentor, you're forced to work with him even longer than you had originally planned. This complicates things greatly, because you've been helplessly in love with him since the day you met him, and unrequited love is a painful thing indeed.

Notes: Ok, I get it. I'm obsessed with this idea. I absolutely love the Mandalorian culture, alright? And Poe Dameron. And lightsabers, though I can't fathom somebody using only one, so you get to be a badass like Ahsoka and use two-- sorry you don't get to pick a color. Yet. (And also you’re gonna fly the Slave. What else would you fly??? I mean you're Boba Fett's kid!)

A/N: This story does not, I repeat, does not have any plot similarities to The Heir of Djarin besides um, the actual movies? Other than that, the only similarities are the fact that the reader is a Force-using Mandalorian, there’s a HanLeia age gap, and there's involvement of everybody's faves Din and Grogu. Banks of the Nile Part 1 is almost finished, a couple drabbles are on the way, and I have a couple of asks (WOOOOOO) to finish as well. Chapter 2 should be in the works soon! ^^

Ratings/Warnings: 18+, canon-typical language/violence, but I want it to be absolutely clear that when the reader meets Poe, yes, she has a crush on him, like most little girls have crushes, but Poe feels absolutely nothing because she is a child. There is nothing like that here. The romance comes into play when the reader is over 20, a full-fledged adult.

~~~

Strength is life, for the strong have the right to rule. Honor is life, for with no honor one may as well be dead. Loyalty is life, for without one's clan one has no purpose. Death is life, one should die as they have lived. This is the Creed of the Mandalorian.

This is the Way.

~~~

The Mandalorians are a wandering people. Interstellar ghosts, legends, rumors.

They are without a place to call home, their planet long since destroyed from a time when the Emperor still ruled. They are without lands of their own, but they are not without honor, nor are they without their warrior spirit. Even without Mandalore, they are still very real and still very much alive. That is what your father told you, what he raised you to believe in. Your father, the notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett.

Boba found you as an infant. Many years after returning to his bounty hunter lifestyle once he was done on Tattooine, a quarry had landed him in the middle of a recently-destroyed village, victim to the forces that would become the First Order in later years. His quarry was dead, but there, he found you. A helpless baby that had somehow survived the destruction and chaos, crying out from the rubble of your cradle and desperate for help. Boba had only meant to take you to someplace where you would be well-cared for, but he soon found himself understanding the plight of Din Djarin.

Unexpectedly, he cared for you.

And so, Boba Fett raised you as his own. You were named Y/N Janghis Fett, and he ensured you knew the Mandalorian Way well. He taught you the ins and outs of being an excellent bounty hunter, strategizing, survival, various forms of combat, and even dogfighting. You became a formidable opponent on the ground and in the sky, following your father on every single one of his jobs and proving yourself a valuable asset to him-- and that was before you were even eight years old.

Shortly after your eighth birthday, Boba took you to see an old ally of his.

Din Djarin.

Younger than Boba, Din was able to teach you more easily what subjects Boba had difficulty with, ones that you could not learn on your own. Half a standard year you spent with Djarin while your father took more jobs elsewhere in the galaxy. The one who wielded the Darksaber became like an uncle to you, and even now you are very close to him-- your clan consists of only four people: your father, Din Djarin, Grogu, and your mentor, whom you met in your eighth year.

You had been told many times to keep away from the river nearby where Din had set up his temporary home. Children never listen, and even though your upbringing was stern, you were no exception. Neither, really, was little Grogu.

It all happened so fast, you don’t really remember the details anymore. But Din has told you the story so many times, you know it well from a third-person perspective.

The river had swollen from recent rains, and in an attempt to chase a frog while you made sand castles, Grogu was swept away, just as Din arrived with intention to scold the both of you for going near something so dangerous. Din couldn’t swim well in the rapids with his heavy beskar armor, but you saved him the difficulty of even having to try.

You’d extended a hand toward the child, and only using your mind, lifted him clear out of the raging river and safely onto shore. At first Din had thought that Grogu had done it himself, until he realized that it was you. Of course, you had seen young Grogu utilize the Force many times. You knew what it was, and what it meant. You wondered if Boba would send you away to live with some seclusive monk on some distant world, teaching you obscure religious practices about the Jedi.

While Din was distracted caring for the shocked Grogu and sending an urgent transmission to your father, you raced off into the forest. You went so far and so deep that you were certain no one could find you. In your naive child-mind, you believed that if you simply willed it away, then away it would go. You were also naive in the notion of believing no one could find you.

Boba himself found you much later that day, and you knew that any attempt at defending yourself would be futile. So you curled up with your knees to your chest and your head bowed into them, hiding your face. Boba sat calmly beside you, casually, as if this were an ordinary day.

For a long while, he said nothing. Then his hand was on your back as a symbol of comfort, and you launched yourself at him to tackle him into a tight hug despite his armor. “What are you afraid of, little bantha?” Boba questioned softly.

“I don’t want you to send me away.”

Boba chuckled at that. “I would never. You think I would stuff you away to some distant temple to be raised by a monk? No, I will not. The Force is mysterious, but it is also dangerous. For a Mandalorian, for a bounty hunter, it could be a powerful ability. But this is new for you. What does one do with new abilities?”

You had hesitated for only a moment, for you knew the answer well. “...Learn about it. Learn to use it.”

“Very good,” Boba praised, “And if that entails learning from someone other than myself or Din?”

“I... I must do it.”

“Yes,” Boba hugged you then. “But I would never leave you, little bantha. You will learn as you have learned here, for I will visit you often, and I am sure that if I am too distant to do so, then Din will for me.”

And through Din, Boba found your reluctant mentor.

Luke Skywalker.

The legendary Jedi Knight had a school for people like you. A Jedi Academy. You still remember your awe at entering the stone fortress, where young children just like you learned to wield laser-swords while blinded by helmets. Seeing over it all was a middle-aged man with golden hair and piercing blue eyes, who wore all black and demonstrated moves before a class on invisible opponents, utilizing a blazing emerald blade and using almost unnatural finesse.

When he spotted the two of you waiting in the doorway, Luke told the class to continue the lesson without him for a moment. He turned off his lightsaber and swiftly approached. “Boba Fett,” He greeted, eyes glittering warily with past memories of encountering the bounty hunter. “I thought you were dead.”

“Maybe I was,” Boba chuckled dryly.

“I did not expect you to come here, of all places,” Luke continued, and his gaze landed on you. He wasn’t frightening at all, but you still tightened your grip on your father’s hand. “...Though I suspect the reasons for your visit well enough. Who is she?”

“This is my daughter,” Boba replied; you knew, always, that you were adopted, for Boba felt it was your right to know. He always told you, however, that blood mattered little. Family could be without blood connections. Yet he always introduced you as his daughter, never feeling the need to state that you’re adopted. “Y/N Janghis Fett.”

Luke turned his attention from Boba fully to you, crouching so that he was level with you. Were you any other child, you might have hidden behind your father’s legs his gaze was so intense. But you’d been raised to be brave and face any obstacle, even if it were the eyes of a Jedi. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Luke.” He reached out to shake your hand, and you returned the gesture. “Do you have special powers? Is that why you came here?”

You hesitated, looking up at your father to try and see what you should do next. He nodded once to assure you. “It’s alright, little bantha, you can tell him.”

You met Luke’s gaze straight-on, swallowing your fears of being raised by a reclusive monk. Luke didn’t seem so bad, after all. “I can lift things with my mind.”

He didn’t seem very surprised at all, only intrigued. “Have you always been able to do that?” You shook your head. “Do you want to be a Jedi?”

Again, you shook your head. “I’m a Mandalorian.”

Luke smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he stood. “If she’s unwilling to learn the ways of the Jedi, then I cannot teach her.”

Boba grunted his understanding. He had already warned you that this might happen. “Of course. Do you know someone who might?”

“You might seek out Ahsoka Tano, but the last I heard of her was many years ago; but she did not train Grogu, either.”

Boba inclined his head. “Very well then. Thank you for y—“

“Wait,” You reached for Luke’s hand, holding it tightly to try and convey your urgency. He looked down at you, surprised. “Please train me. I don’t want to hurt anybody. Even if I’m not a Jedi, I’ll be good, I promise, and I’ll learn what you teach me.”

Luke and Boba shared a glance before Luke knelt down again for you. His tone was gentle as he spoke to you. “...If this is what you want, then I cannot train you as I would everyone else. You would have to watch, and learn, and I would teach you when I’m not training my Jedi students. Do you understand?”

You understood completely, despite your young age. And so Boba left you there with a promise to return, and you began your training under Luke Skywalker.

It wasn’t very hard for you to adjust. You were given an equal share of chores and tasks, like everyone else, and when Luke taught his classes, you stood off always and watched closely. The only classes you rarely watched were his teachings of the Jedi religion, although you did listen to their histories. Eventually you were given a pair (per your preference) of emerald lightsabers. Luke was going to take them away when he seen that the plasma blades were unstable, but you liked the way they crackled more than the others’. It made you feel more differentiated from them, reminded you that no matter how often you felt like just another student, that you’re a Mandalorian, and you were there for a purpose.

Some of the other children mocked you. They made fun of you and tried to make you feel out-of-place, but you ignored them; oftentimes you mocked them back. Although always quick to come to your defense, Luke wasn’t always around to put them in their place. Luckily you did have some form of backup in his nephew, Ben Solo.

Awkward and shy, Ben noticed your bullying and often helped you fend them off. He even taught you things about the Force that Luke had yet to, helping to mentor you. Luke was grateful for his assistance, and soon the two of you became close. Ben always told you that you were the little sister he never had, and swore to protect you. “Not that you need it!” He’d always say quickly when he saw your frown. To you, he was like a big brother. You even called him that, which he found endearing.

Luke became like a second father to you, and his sister, Leia, was the first maternal presence you ever felt. You grew close with her as she taught you how to braid your hair without knotting it, how to hold yourself like a lady without lessening your fiery persona, and the subtler things in life like cooking. Her husband Han, on the other hand, roughhoused with you often and gave you the nickname “scruffy.” It was... awkward, to say the least, when Boba and Han met once more.

Two years into your training, when you were ten years old and Ben was fifteen, Luke took his students— including you— to a special place. Yavin IV, where on a koyo fruit farm, he’d once planted a very special kind of tree. A Force tree.

The owner of the farm, Kes Dameron, opened the door and was surprised to see a Jedi and his students appear. “L... Luke. What are you doing here?”

Luke only smiled. “Hello, Kes. May we come in?”

“O-of course,” the man stepped back to allow the entourage of children into his house.

“You may explore the village,” Luke said to his students, “But return here in an hour. I have something very important to show you.”

Of course, you gravitated to Ben. “Have you been here before?”

“A few times,” Ben replied, and his tone, as it happened too often nowadays, concerned you. He was always tired, always sad, and he almost always avoided his parents when they visited him. “I don’t really know Kes... but his son I know a little better. We’ve met a few times. I’m pretty sure I saw him outside; come on.”

Ben lead you out of the house and to an old, run-down shed, from which the clanking of metal tools came. Ben slid into the open doors first before gesturing for you to come inside, and when you did you found yourself in a world of old parts, dusty air, and filtered beams of yellow-gold sunlight through the crumbling barn slats. In the center of it all was an ancient A-wing, half dissembled and laying in various stages of work throughout the barn. The soft clinks of metal-against-metal and twisting ratchets brought the pair of you over to the other side of the old craft, where a man’s form was half-concealed as he worked on the underside of the ship.

Ben nudged him with the tip of his boot. “Just a sec,” came the muffled response, and a few moments later the man was twisting to see the owner of the boot that’d nudged him, a wrench between his teeth. Thick, dark waves of hair framed his young face, curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. A shirt was tied by the sleeves at his waist, leaving him in an oil-stained tank top and dirty old pants. He was absolutely covered in filth, only emphasizing the way his deep bronze eyes widened. “Ben?!”

He crawled out from underneath the A-wing immediately, removing the wrench from his teeth to reveal a brilliant smile. “Ben! Hey man! Good to see you!” He dragged Ben into a stiff, short hug on the younger man’s part, pulling away with his hands on his hips and looking over Ben with the same fondness of a brother. “It’s been awhile; you’ve grown up!”

“That’s... kind of what happens to people,” Ben replied blandly, rolling his eyes.

The man jerked his head to indicate you with a teasing grin on his face. “This your girlfriend?” The sheer volume of disgusted negative responses from you both had him raising his hands in surrender. “Yeesh, sorry. You gonna introduce me, then?”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “Poe, this is Y/N. She’s like my little sister. Y/N, this is Poe. He’s an idiot.”

Poe shook your hand in a calloused grip after wiping the grease gathered on it on his pants. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He addressed you both excitedly. “So? What are you guys doing here? Luke stop by or something?”

“Yeah, actually,” Ben replied, “He brought us to see the Force tree.”

“You know what else you gotta see? Or actually, try?” Poe looked between you both excitedly, even as Ben rolled his eyes and turned with a sigh to leave the barn. “Koyo fruits.”

You tried, desperately, to stifle the laugh that bubbled up at the prospect of koyo fruits being on the same level of importance as the Force tree. Ben was still walking away. “I’ll be up by the house. You coming, Y/N?"

"Come on, Ben!" Poe laughed after him, gesturing at his retreating form. "All these years and you've never had one koyo fruit!" Ben doesn't wait for you, continuing on his path out of the barn unhindered. Once he's gone, you're alone with Poe, who smiles at you and moves over toward a pack he has nearby. "You ever had koyo fruit, kid?"

You shook your head. Really, you're sure that despite your potentially deadly skills, you looked quite innocent then. Your hair done in cute double braids, the ribbons tied into bows at the ends. You didn't wear the Jedi student robes, since you were not technically one, instead opting for wearing the nice knee-length dress, buckle-closed shoes, and stockings that Luke had gotten for you. On your waist was a little belt with your twin lightsabers hooked to it securely. You probably looked like a child. You were, but you also weren't. No Mandalorian is ever quite so innocent as they seem.

Poe dug around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out an ovular green fruit, pulling a knife out of his pocket to cut it open and hand you a slice. Tentatively, you took the piece of fruit and ate a small bite; it rewarded you with a starburst of sweet flavor. You'd never tasted anything quite like it. The slice was gone in a matter of seconds, making Poe chuckle. "Told you it was good. Here, you can have the rest of it. I can literally just walk outside and pick one off a tree if I get hungry."

You eagerly accepted the fruit and knife. When he hoisted himself up to sit on the worktable and patted the spot beside him, you did so. "So? Where you from, Y/N?"

"I don't know," You murmur in response. At seeing his face, you add with a shrug, "My dad found me on one of his jobs. My village was destroyed, so he took me in."

Poe tried to fill in the gap, saying, "Then you found out you can be a Jedi?"

"I'm not a Jedi," You correct matter-of-factly, "I'm a Mandalorian. Luke is only teaching me how to use the Force. And he gave me these." You patted a lightsaber at your hip.

Poe's mouth formed an 'o' in surprise, his bronze eyes widening a little. "Oh, a Mandalorian. Where's your helmet, little lady?"

"I don't have one yet," You replied, taking another bite of fruit. "I'm not old enough. My dad's going to get my armor when I turn sixteen."

Poe crooked an eyebrow, a faint smirk on his face. "So, you're a bounty hunter that can use the Force, huh? That makes you a pretty bada-- uh... formidable opponent."

"Just like my dad," You chirped, proud as you pictured your father. "Boba Fett. I learned from the very best."

Honestly, it looked like somebody slapped him. Poe's eyes widened, his jaw fell a little, and then something sparked in his caff irises as he let out a breathy laugh of disbelief. "Y-your dad is Boba Fett?"

"Uh-huh," You replied, eating another piece of fruit and feeling extremely smug-- many people had this reaction when they found out your parentage, and you were immensely proud of it. Your father was well-known and feared throughout the entire galaxy, even in these less-exciting years of his career. "I'm Y/N Janghis Fett."

Poe smiled, his face lit by a ray of sunshine. Your young heart fluttered, and your face flushed. Later that evening you would be writing Poe Dameron + Y/N Janghis Fett in your little personal diary, and Ben would scoff and roll his eyes when he caught you, muttering, "Why aren't I surprised?"

But in that moment, all you could do was stuff another piece of fruit in your mouth to stifle your smile, though it did little good. Poe hopped down. "Well, Y/N Fett: what do you know about ships?"

"I know that this one looks like it needs more than a paint job," You quipped, making him laugh as he surveyed the numerous tools and scattered equipment.

"Yeah, yeah, you could say that..."

"What's wrong with it?"

Poe climbed up into the cockpit, starting to fiddle with buttons that were dry of power. "It's old, for one. This was my mom's A-wing. Aaaaaand..." He punctuated the end of his sentence with a couple loud switches and a shake of his head. "I crashed it a few years back. Found out my dad had it retrieved, and we've been working on it ever since. Everything's in good order, 'cept... the engine won't start... Uh... What are you doing, kid?"

While he was occupied with the controls, he didn't notice that you'd climbed off your seat and made your way over to the open engine compartment. You rearranged a couple of wires, bypassed the main compressor, and then gestured for Poe to power up the ship. Reluctantly, he flipped the button.

Immediately, the ancient A-wing roared to life. Poe's face-- wonder, awe, relief-- was priceless. His sudden smile lit up the whole barn as his wide eyes flicked to you, a scream of excitement bursting from his chest. "Woohoohoo! That's it, that's what I like to hear!" You heard a commotion from outside, and figured that with all the noise, Kes and Luke were coming to see what was happening. They rushed into the barn with the entourage of students trailing curiously behind. Kes stopped short, stunned into silence at the sight. Poe pumped his fist into the air triumphantly. "You hear that?! You hear that purr?!" To the ship, he added, patting the cockpit's panels, "Welcome back, old girl."

He left the ship running as he climbed out, and then lunged for you with tears in his eyes. His voice was soft as he scooped you up into his arms, lifting you clear off the ground. "You're a miracle, Y/N! You fixed my mom’s ship!”

“You did this?” Kes demanded in awe, staring at you as if you were the Maker itself. The attention was almost overwhelming. The other students are somewhere between displeased and jealous, even Ben, who glared at Poe with a disturbing kind of anger you’d never seen on him before. It scared you. On Luke, you seen only pride, as if he somehow knew that your fixing of Poe Dameron's ship was more than mere skill alone. That had he just moved the wires connecting to the compressor just so, his A-wing would have started long ago. He was near enough to the correct alignment, but it was the Force that guided you to the precise configuration required to get the power flowing properly. He notices your realization and gives you a minute nod of approval.

Kes approached you with tears trickling down his cheeks and awe in his eyes. "By the Maker, little one, you've done the impossible."

"I only did what my father would have done," You tried, in an attempt to divert attention from yourself. “He taught me all I know.”

Poe turned to Luke, still beaming. “You’ve gotta get me in touch with Boba Fett. I’ve gotta thank him.” His attention returned to you and he pressed a kiss to your cheek, making you flush. “And you, Y/N! I don’t know how you did it, but thank you!”

From that day forward, as the years passed, your crush would transform into love as you grew older. You’d remember the moment you realized it was love— several years from now, when Poe showed up on your doorstep bloodied and injured from a mission gone wrong. You were only seventeen— or rather, about to turn eighteen, mere weeks before your life would descend into a perilous tumult— but after you’d patched him up, he’d laid on your couch and fallen asleep with you watching carefully over him. He’d asked you, in a low, hoarse voice, to stay with him, and he’d grabbed your wrist to keep you near to him. You knew that he’d only saw you as a friend, maybe a sister— you were only a child. But you couldn’t help it. No other potential partner would ever catch your eye, your heart and soul fixated on Poe Dameron for the rest of your life.

But in the barn, that day, you knew nothing but the discomfort you felt from all the attention and the warmth of having done something so special for someone. Kes and Poe celebrated by providing a massive dinner that was surprisingly excellent, including singing and dancing and the lively playing of instruments. You felt no inclination to join them, and so while Poe played a happy tune on his stringed instrument, you sat off to the side, nibbling on a koyo fruit.

Luke approached you then, his footsteps almost silent. “Hello, Luke,” You greeted. You would never know it, but although Luke loved you like a daughter, sometimes your intelligent gaze perturbed him. At only ten, your big [e/c] held an unsettling wisdom that perhaps only a Mandalorian child could hold within them. Even his other students held no such manners about them.

“Hello, Y/N,” he replied softly, sitting beside you. “You have become very adept at utilizing the Force, more so than most of my students your age.”

“But I’m not to touch the tree,” You finish for him; or so, you assume.

“Quite the contrary,” Luke’s blue eyes flick around the party, frowning a bit. “The other students will have a chance to receive a vision at dawn, as Jedi. But you, my dear, are a Mandalorian in heart and soul.” A brief silence hangs between you, and then he adds, “Did I ever tell you the story of Tarre Vizsla?”

You shook your head. Luke had told you many stories, and you always dedicated them to memory. Hearing the tales from a living legend was something you wished to recall every detail of for the rest of your days. You had never heard him speak of a Tarre Vizsla.

“He was just like you,” Luke said gently, putting a hand on your shoulder as if to assure you. Despite the fact that his cybernetic hand held no human qualities to it other than the intricate and advanced design of the hand, you felt a kind of fatherly warmth radiating off of him.

“Just like me?” You asked, very softly. “A Mandalorian who can use the Force?”

“A Mandalorian who became a Jedi,” Luke corrected, a faint smile on his features. Your eyes widen a bit, praying that he’s not suggesting that you become a Jedi. Their rules and code of conduct are not those of a Mandalorian. Although morals both held a distinct structure in both cultures, Jedi went without attachments, whereas Mandalorians encouraged them. “You actually have a special connection to him.” Immediately, you perk up, eyes wide with a child’s curiosity. Luke nods in answer to your silent but obvious question, continuing without wavering. “Tarre Vizsla became a Jedi as a child, but then returned to his homeworld of Mandalore, where he revived old practices and became their unquestioned leader. It was he who built the Darksaber that Din Djarin now wields. My point here, however, is that your path is similar— except you wish to remain a Mandalorian completely. Therefore I cannot take you to the Force tree.”

His emphasis— and subtle permission— made you smile a little. You sit up on your knees to give him a warm hug, which he rarely engaged in, but this time, he reciprocated your embrace tightly. “Go on, then, little mynock. But you must keep the vision to yourself.”

Of course, you went straight to Poe, since you had no idea where the Force tree was and you were already familiar with him. While his father played a lively jig on a strange type of drum, you approach Poe from the sidelines. He stood on the edge of the crowd gathered to watch the competitive dancing of two students, clapping along with an enormous smile on his face. You have his jacket a couple of tugs to get his attention, loathe to speak too loudly and draw the mocking eyes of everyone else. Immediately, Poe responded, turning to face you and smiling. “Hey there, Fett. What is it?”

You beckoned for him to lean down, and then once he did you whispered in his ear, “Can you take me to the Force tree?”

Poe nodded, taking your hand. “Yeah, sure. Come with me.”

Neither of you are aware you’re being followed until Ben seemed to materialize at your left, making you and Poe jump. “Kriff, Ben,” He sighed in relief. “You scared the hell outta us.”

Ben glanced to Poe before meeting your eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Luke can’t take me to the Force tree,” You explained, “But I have his permission to receive a vision by myself.”

“By yourself?” Poe asked in disbelief. “Isn’t that kinda... Dangerous?”

Ben didn’t seem to like Poe very much. Not at all. But at his observation, Ben smiles knowingly and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s not alone.”

You relaxed, muscles easing from a tension you didn’t realize you’d had. Poe was not a Jedi, even if you could sense the Force in him. He could have done nothing if things went wrong. But Ben, he could help you. With his presence, the thought of approaching such a daunting checkpoint on the way to becoming an apt Force-user seemed much less intimidating. “Thanks, Ben.”

The Force tree was beautiful. Slender, twisting, it was not ancient at all, but it held the wisdom of ten thousand years before it. The very living Force thrummed softly around it, warm and welcoming. Pink blossoms accented the soft green leaves, which rustled lightly in the evening breeze. The light of Yavin shone down through holes in the gray overcast, turning the tree silver at times. You hadn’t realized you’d still been holding a hand from both Ben and Poe until you had to let go of them to make your approach to the tree.

You felt a surge of static and palpable energy, sensing the life and darkness permeating the space around you with an intensity unlike anything you had ever felt. All mortal concerns and senses left you as your soul seemed to be taken to another plane, depicted by a serene field— but that was all you would ever say of it. None would know what you seen that day, just as Luke told you. Poe nor even Ben, who was tapped into the Force, could see what you did. Why your body went rigid against the tree, why you stayed there for at least an hour and a half with the young men watching over you worriedly and debating on whether or not to bring Luke to you. None would know why when you fell away from it, you sobbed for twenty minutes uncontrollably in something like relief. You could never tell anyone. Ever.

And you never did.

You returned to the Force tree so often that Kes came to know your repurposed Naboo starfighter, bringing you the koyo fruits you loved so much. A bitter disappointment for you was that Poe rarely seemed to be there, and although Kes was nice, he spoke very little to you. In all the years you returned to the tree, Poe was only there once, and he was leaving as you were arriving. You’d been fifteen then. The next year you became a Mandalorian in full, christened by Din’s following of Mandalorians known as the Heirs of Glass. You were given a complete set of beskar armor that you painted a soft pastel jade to match your father’s, and he gifted you with the Slave, your inheritance. Still, you had yet more to learn about the Force, so you remained with Luke and came to visit the Force tree often.

The Force tree’s visions guided you through the most tumultuous portion of your young life. When, at eighteen, you were lucky enough to be visiting the Force tree when Ben snapped.

He had always been seclusive and quiet, but he spoke to you freely enough and you cared for him deeply. In recent years he had begun to become violent, prone to outbursts of anger toward Luke, the other students— even you, his closest friend. The Force warned everyone near him of danger. And when you felt him slipping away into the darkness clawing at his soul, you tightened your grip on him, gaining the strength to hold on and try to keep him in the light. His swirling conflagration of the two contrasts frightened Luke, whom was wary of him and his following of odd and quiet students, ones whom openly shunned you but dared not do it near Ben, who even still protected you and valued you above all else. His mother, Leia, visited more often, sometimes with Han, who seemed awkward and stiff around his son. But that night... that night there was no one there for Ben.

Not even you.

Earlier in the evening, Ben had snapped at you during a casual spar. In a fit of rage spawned from your concern, his blind rampage nearly killed you. His lightsaber had burnt through the lightweight but durable pants you wore under your beskar, leaving a nasty gash on your thigh. Ben realized what he’d done only after, apologizing profusely before retreating. His aura clouded with something akin to black smoke, felt but not seen, and that would be the last you’d see of Ben for a very long time.

His attack hurt you deeper than the cauterized burn on your thigh. You had never, ever given Ben a reason to be angry with you. He was your elder brother in heart if not in blood, and you adored him. For him to unleash such anger on you, your seventeen-year-old self wondered if he cared for you anymore as much as he claimed, or even as much as he thought he did himself if he could hurt you so easily.

“I just need some time to think,” You’d told Luke as you’d climbed aboard the ramp of the Slave. “I’ll be back soon.” Luke was always aware of when you were leaving for Yavin IV, but right then he’d looked more concerned than you’d ever seen him, frowning from underneath of his cloak. He said nothing verbally, but through the Force he willed you to come back as soon as possible, as soon as you had cleared your head.

And so you left. You were on Yavin IV when Ben fully snapped, when he nearly killed Luke and set fire to the Jedi Academy with all of the students inside. All save for his band of followers, all save for you. You learned those details later, when Leia, alone with Han’s sudden departure and return to the smuggling trade, came to you to explain what had happened. She had heard it from Luke, via the Force— your elder brother was now the Sith Lord Kylo Ren, leader of the Knights of Ren and apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke of the First Order. He was Ben no longer. The brother you had known was dead and gone, swallowed by darkness and transformed into an unrecognizable monster.

You stayed with Leia through those first few days of grieving, taking solace in her presence and that of C-3PO, whom did his best to comfort you. Kes came to offer his condolences to Leia, and with him came Poe, tears in his dark eyes. He’d rapped his knuckles on your helmet after kneeling in front of you, forcing a smile. “Hey, miracle,” He’d whispered hoarsely, using his endearing nickname for you— he’d never forgotten you fixing his mother’s ship. “You okay?” In that moment and that moment only, you showed how you truly felt around someone other than your father. You’d burst into sobs and collapsed into his arms, and Poe had cried with you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe.

R2-D2 shut off, tucked in a corner and unable to be started by anyone, when Luke— without a word to anyone else— disappeared into the cosmos, guilt-ridden. You knew, though, where he went. His cybernetic hand gripped your shoulder firmly. “You know where to find me, little mynock.” Stiffly, you’d nodded, ensuring that your mentor understood that you’d seek him out of necessary and guard his hiding place with your life. Surely, Kylo Ren would be looking for him. He’d be looking for you.

Like your mentor, you disappeared from the public eye. Your father’s reputation alone was enough to get you some easy bounty hunting jobs, and over the years your name became well-known in the bounty hunting community. Fett returned to the highest ranks, sought out and booked for the hardest, dirtiest jobs nobody else would do. You were paid fine money, which you used to upgrade your ship, the Slave, until it was like brand-new— but faster, stronger, more powerful. Throughout the galaxy your name brought fear to those who uttered it, recognized for what it was: a death sentence. Small clans and groups of Mandalorians respected you, and you had numerous contracts from numerous bounty hunting guilds. Busy at your work, you were off-the-radar. Few could find you easily, instead waiting on your arrival, but you knew your wanderings could be discovered by Kylo Ren if he really wanted to. You lived in a combination of anxiety and restlessness, awaiting the day you would cross sabers with your brother.

Your boots jangled like spurs with the addition of little steel-cased grenades in belts around your calves, signaling your entrance to the shoddy cantina which held one of several bounty hunting guilds you sold your expertise to. At your waist were a dozen tracking fobs with green lights, letting everyone know that in your ship you had those dozen bounties locked up securely or frozen in carbonite. The cantina momentarily went silent at the sight of your armor, at the sight of a Mandalorian in green beskar. Whispers trickled from one worried patron to the next, whispers of “That’s her— that’s Fett!”

You’d be lying if you ever said your fame brought you anything but a sense of pride for your name. “Mando!” Laughed the Devaronian barkeep, Searn Zar; he also was the benefactor of this bounty hunting guild. “Where’ve you been? We were starting to get a little worried!”

You weren’t here, however, for this guild. You were on contract for a different one at the moment, so you ignored Zar and crossed the room, the one singular red tracking fob you had left pinging frantically as you approached your target: sitting by himself was a presumably male Ubese in full raider armor. None dared to ask any questions. Everyone got out of your way, pulling out of reach of even your heavy black cape and all but cowering from you. The Ubese spotted you immediately, cockily lounging back in his seat. Ah. He’s going to be difficult.

You stopped once you reached the table, turning off the fob and switching the light to green before hooking it to your belt. The Ubese chuckled, gesturing at you lazily. His high-pitched, squeaky voice, distorted by the helmet, grated on your ears. “Finally. I was wondering when you were gonna show up.”

You heaved a heavy sigh, a hand resting pointedly on one of the blasters at your hip. “I can bring you in warm... or I can bring you in cold.”

The Ubese scoffed, starting to reach up for his helmet. “How about... you not take me in at all?” You’re five seconds away from stunning him right there, but then he pulled the helmet off and you froze up. He leaned back in his seat, leaving the helmet on the table and shooting you a lazy grin.

Poe Dameron’s dark eyes seemed to meet yours even through your helmet. “Hey, miracle.”

Your heart, despite your outward facade of steel, gives a very un-Mandalorian-like stutter. You haven’t seen Poe in at least two years, but he looks no different to you. His thick dark curls were messy and damp with sweat from the heat of the helmet, a few loose strands clinging to the tanned skin of his forehead and temples. His bronze eyes were flecked gold, reflecting the old dingy lights of the cantina and giving them a new, actually beautiful purpose. Framing his angled jawline and full lips was a five o’clock shadow that gave him a rougher edge. “Takin’ lines from Din, Fett?” You hide the girlish shudder that threatens your spine at the sound of his low, soft voice. You’d never admit it— not to his face— but you’d missed him.

Maybe a little too much.

You were in love, and he clearly didn’t feel the same— how could he? When you’d first met, you were a child and he was already an adult. There was an age gap between you. Surely he no longer seen the little girl with the twin braids, but he certainly would never unsee it. No part of him could ever love you like you wanted him to. Therefore it was extremely hard to see him, and him seeking you out was definitely worse and unexpected.

Your hand dropped from your blaster. “Poe Dameron.”

His smile sent butterflies straight to your stomach. “Y/N. Glad I finally found you.”

You sat down opposite of him, expecting that he must want something to have looked for you. More concerning was the simple fact that he succeeded in locating you. “How did you find me, Dameron?”

Poe smirked, leaning his forearms on the table. “It’s pretty easy, actually. All I had to do was explain to Boba what’s going on, and he told me where to find you.”

You relaxed a bit. If that was all... “What do you want?”

“I have to have a reason to come see you?” Poe questioned, pouting a little.

You’re glad for the helmet, for you can’t help smirk a little at that. “Maybe not. But I haven’t seen you in over a year, Poe. You never seek me out unless you need something.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a minute before replying to you. “Okay, I get it. I’ve got a few birthdays to make up for. How old are you, now?”

“I hardly see how that applies to this conversation,” You answered smugly, but when he started to frown, you added, “I’m twenty. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

Poe was bouncing his leg nervously, biting his lip. Clearly, something was up. You reached across the table, your gloved hand enclosing one of his. For you, it’s an intimate gesture. You have always hated the sensation of being touched, even with your full armor. It felt alien, and unwelcome. But here you breached that barrier in an attempt to calm him, so that he might tell you why he came here. “Poe,” You said softly.

He immediately responded to your touch, surprising you. He flipped his hand so that he could grab yours, so tightly your bones popped. You didn’t have the heart to pull away, not when you seen the worry in his eyes when they flicked up to meet yours. “...This...This is really important, Y/N. Potentially fate-of-the-galaxy important.”

Your insides twisted. “This has something to do with... with Ren, doesn’t it?”

Poe nodded a little, specifying under his breath. “The First Order.”

You sighed through your nose, trying to stifle the anxiety that flooded your chest. The First Order and the Republic were two parties who wanted nothing to do with. The Republic stood for a good cause, but they were pushovers and too forgiving. Too naïve. The First Order was monstrous, deadly, a revival of the Empire in most senses of the word. You wanted nothing to do with either of them, nor the fate of the cosmos. “What’s happening?”

Poe shook his head. “...We intercepted some information. The First Order... they’re looking for somebody called Lor San Tekka. An explorer. An expert of all Jedi lore. And probably the only one in the galaxy who might know where to find Luke.”

Your back stiffens. “Except for me.”

“Except for you,” Poe confirms, squeezing your hand even tighter. “If they get him first, Jay...” He shook his head at the mere thought of what they could do to your mentor; or more specifically, of what Kylo Ren would do to your mentor. You feel many things, but two of them are a surge of protectiveness and fear. Anger plays a role as well, and you find yourself holding Poe’s hand back just as tightly.

“You want me to help you find him.” You managed. Working with Poe is the last thing you want. You certainly don’t need to fall for him any harder than you already have. Getting into the conflict between the First Order and the Republic— much less playing a part in the fate of the galaxy— is a prospect with which you want nothing to do with.

But your mentor needs you.

Poe nodded again, as if trying to sympathize with your reluctance and emphasize his point. “Yeah. I do.” His dark eyes locked with yours. You wondered if the Force guided his movements, for him to be able to pierce yours so effortlessly. “I want you to help me find Luke Skywalker.”

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading, everyone! The next chapter is coming soon, don’t worry! <3 If I missed anyone, please let me know!

Taglist: @poeticsorcery @dameronsknight @simonsbluee @seninjakitey @ahookedheroespureheart @adamcarlsenslvr @bluestuesday @magnet-girl @dweeb-central @auszimbo @izbelross @djarinsgirl27 @sokoviansorceress @eerievixen @300nightmare003 @pascallllllll1 @knopewyattworld @weliketomoveit @soullesstaco @megzdoodle @graciexmarvel @sunfairyy @darth-vaders-bitch @paintballkid711 @thedudefromdownunder @howlerwolfmax @sofiapadilla28 @ghostwriteser

[themculibrary]

Shang-Chi Masterlist

360-degree feedback (ao3) - bysine G, 12k

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“Perhaps,” says Wong. “But if anything else comes to mind, feel free to share.”

“Well," says Wenwu, "I couldn’t help but overhear that your recruitment numbers are dismal.”

---

A ghost story.

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“Mahjong night,” says Erik, deadpan.

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Summary: As they walked out, she could feel Shaun stewing and probably pissed off beside her, but he didn’t say anything, so neither did she. Instead she pulled out her phone and googled San Francisco marriage license.

They were in the elevator before he finally spoke. “This is not something I’m willing to let you do.”

“Okay, well, getting deported back to fucking China is not something I’m willing to let you do, so where does that leave us?”

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urs (ao3) - sunshinesketches katy/shang-chi E, 7k

Summary: “I think we should have sex.”

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“Platonically, I mean,” he immediately says. ___ Katy and Shaun try friends with benefits.

What's Behind and What's Before (ao3) - NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl katy/shang-chi M, 58k

Summary: “When are you going to get married?”

Had Waipo not asked him that daily for the last 5+ years he might have panicked. Instead, he responded the same way he always did. "We're just friends.”

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Of all the threats he'd had in the last week, that might be the most sincere. "I promise not to do that.”

Life on the other side of the Rubicon.

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He rolls his eyes. “Do you really want a guy who can barely speak English to be your soulmate?”

“I could learn Chinese,” she says defensively, “for my soulmate.” --- Katy and Shaun find each other over the years.

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