#how we taggin this boys?

[ozcarr-remade]

Actually so pissed we only got like. 30 seconds of Dimitri before his personality got overwritten.

I really thought Copernicus was gonna be my favorite by a wide margin…. but the way they animated this guy was so charming, so I just don’t know anymore.

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION — PROMPT 14. TELEPATHY

TECH / F READER 💖(🔥)

WARNINGS: BRIEF MENTIONS OF INSECURITIES, SEXUAL THOUGHTS BUT NO PROPER SEX SCENE.

NOTES: Here we have a fluffy and sweet/sensual one for our dear Tech. Oh, how I love that man... Let me know if you' ve liked it and reblog if you can. We've only got 3 more prompts for the 100celeb left (with our boys Rex, Cross, and Echo). See you on the next one! Xx, Blue.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech had a strict rule; he would not use his mind-reading ability on anyone if not for safety reasons exclusively. That meant, for example, that he was able –and would– use his telepathy to find out Cid's ulterior plans –plans the Trandoshan never mentioned to Hunter– ; but he would control himself and refrain from reading his brother's minds outside of missions and the like. If Tech didn't consider someone in danger, he would silence the thoughts that so often slipped uninvited into his mind.

However, even his own strict rule had to be broken on the rare occasion. Sometimes, the few people he cared about weren't in inminent physical danger; but experimenting some sort of emotional stress that they couldn't always resolve by themselves. Watching them suffer in silence when he might have been able to help if only he had been informed of the nature of their affliction... Well, in those cases, Tech felt morally obliged to intervene.

All this considered, there's no valid reason for him to use his telepathy on you today; but he can't help himself. He had tried to reach a logical conclusion for your behaviour around him lately; to no avail. What he knows is that you can't stand to be in the same space as him for more than a few minutes at a time. He had brushed it aside as mere coincidences at first -you had forgotten something, or had to help Omega with another-; but after a whole month of quiet observation, Tech can't deny the truth any longer. It hurts, the thought of you finding him so irritating or disliking him so much that you inmediately shied away from his presence; but he wants to know what exactly you can't stand about him. Perhaps he can find a solution to it... Tech isn't fond of many people; but he is of you, and he values the friendship that had slowly blossomed between the two of you. He thought you did too, he was sure of it. He needs to know what has changed.

And so the next time you rush out of the cockpit to the sonic, after putting an abrupt end to your conversation with him once again, Tech tunes your thoughts in. Your voice echoes inside his head in a series of stressed whispers. He has to concentrate to discern the jumbled words from one another; your mind is working light speed.

"Oh my god, will I ever stop messing up my words every time I talk to him? With how impossibly smart he is, he probably thinks I'm stupid by now!"

Then, a firm, clear sentence -Tech can imagine you pointing at yourself at the mirror, frustrated-.

"Get your shit together!"

He hears the door of the sonic opening and your footsteps moving in the direction of the bunks.

Alone with his own thoughts again, Tech ponders the new information around. He's relieved to know that at least you don't seem to be angry or irritated at him per se. You just seem to be intimidated by his intelligence; which is more of a compliment than anything else, really. Still, he can't help but feel guilty. Had he ever acted in a way that has made you feel undervalued? Had he off-handedly critiqued any aspect of your psyche? Made an unfortunate comment on how your mind processes things? He doesn't believe so; but it wouldn't surprise him either. For all the intelligence he posseses, he knows he often lacks of emotional tact; something that his brothers -Wrecker, in particular- seem to be well versed in.

Ah, there's always things to learn, mm?

He'll try to make you feel more at ease next time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech is pleasantly surprised to have you tagging along in his exploration of Arkana's forest. The rest of The Batch had decided to stay in The Marauder, catching up on some sleep; but he had prefered to take the chance to observe the planet's rich ecosistem before they had to make their way back to Ord Mantell the following morning. You had inmediately jumped at the oportunity as well. Tech would have thought that an hour expedition would have been too much for you to be in his presence; but you had joined him with a bright smile, and half an hour later, your mood is just as friendly.

Arkana's forest is a surprising mix of bright colourful flora. There's not as much green as one would have expected; but instead, trees and flowers grow in vibrants blues, pinks and yellows. Your eyes widen in awe at a bright neon magenta flower that is as tall as yourself; steps slowing down to admire it.

"What's its name?" you ask him, curiously.

Tech doesn't need to consult his datapad; he knows exactly what it is.

"Fluoridium flowers. Their shine is not a property of the plant per se, but a result of different kinds of neon-like minerals in Arkana's soil. It is often used as..." Tech notices the way you're silently staring at him, an almost lost expression on your face.

He remembers your thoughts on him; and the rest of his explanation quickly dies on his throat. He doesn't want to overwhelm you with unnecessary information. He ends his info-dumping -as Crosshair used to call it- with a few brief words.

"Let's just say it has a lot of uses".

He nods to himself, and then re-starts their walk through the forest. You follow him inmediately, frowning in confusion at his interrumpted explanation.

"For example?" you ask him, and Tech shoots a carefull glance back at you.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in knowing that".

His words bring a honest, surprised expression on your face.

"Why not?" you sound highly confused.

You can't help but think you've done something wrong. It had looked like Tech had wanted to share the information with you; and then he had stoped himself from continuing after taking a look at your face. Had you done something you weren't aware of?

Tech's eyes flicker around the forest almost avoiding you.

"I wouldn't want to bore you" he answers, voice quiet and hesitant.

Tech is never hesitant. He might not know everything; but even then, his usual way of talking is always confident and self-assured. He has no problem in admiting a lack of knowledge in something; he'd admit it in the same firm tone he uses for everything. Why is he acting so strange now?

His words tug at your heart. Perhaps something has happened without you noticing it. Perhaps there had been some sort of discusion between the brothers; or some fleeting comment Tech had taken too personal.

You are enamoured by him; he could never bore you.

For the first time in perhaps forever, you reach your hand towards his wrist; tugging him into a stop and looking up into his eyes with your cheeks lighted up in a faint blush.

"I find all your explanations interesting" you sum up the courage to add "I like hearing you talk, Tech".

You shoot him a small, soft smile; fingers squeezing his wrist softly before letting him go.

Tech is momentarily stunned. He is first confused by the contradiction between your recent afirmation and the thoughts he had heard from you just a few days ago; he is also surprised by the tender affection he reads on your eyes. Your honest little admission sends a warm feeling to his heart.

You're still looking at him; perhaps waiting for an answer, a reaction from him. Tech's heart speeds up. He feels the need to listen to your mind tingling through his veins; and he allows himself that little exception again, just this time.

"How could you ever be boring? You're like a living encyclopedia. And you look so adorable when you're explaining something, specially when you raise your index. I like seing how excited you get, how you come to life. Ah, Tech, if only you knew... I could hear you talking all day".

Tech blushes instantly; slipping out of your mind and trying to hide the way hearing you "talk" about him is making him feel. He must have gotten something wrong. You evidently still enjoy spending time with him; you... Care. Those first thoughts he read from you last time must have been born of your own insecurities; insecurities he would try to help you leave behind.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You like when the cockpit is at it's maximum capacity. It means you're able to watch Tech with other posible distractions claiming his attention; masking your unwavering interest. Right now, for example, he's listening to Wrecker's and Omega's chattering; making a few brief interventions here and there. He's also piloting The Marauder back to Ord Mantell; and shooting some carefully concerned glances at Hunter, who was injured in The Batch's last mission in Targa. He has always been an expert at multitasking.

You, on the other hand, are focused on just one thing; Tech himself. How his hair is slightly ruffled after the mission, and the way his eyes seem to softly shine with the hyperspace lights. His pouty lips; and the way his long legs look when he spreads his knees apart, turning in the direction of his brothers once The Marauder is set on autopilot.

Fuck, how you wish you could be standing -or kneeling- between those legs...

Tech suddenly stutters in his speech, his cheeks blushing perhaps as a result of something one of his brother's had said. It pulls you out of your thoughts for a minute; your eyes focusing on how cute he looks with the soft tint of embarassment on his face. It's not an expression you often see on him.

You're really helpless when it comes to Tech. Your mind inmediately swings to dirty thoughts; pondering wether he'll get a similar expresion if he'd get flustered at sex. Would he be shy, cheeks set on fire and a timid, adorable wide-eyed expresion on his face? Or would he be as confident and firm as usual, making you melt at his feet with a few caresses and well aimed words? You'd be eager to please him either way, that's for sure.

Tech stands up abruptly; clearing his throat nervously, face impossibly flushed now. His eyes flicker everywhere around the room, and he inmediately makes a hasty exit muttering a rushed excuse. Your eyes trail after him in concern; asking the rest of The Batch about him in case you got lost on something important that would explain his sudden and unexpected retreat.

"What was that?" you whisper to his brothers, half confused and half concerned.

Hunter's eyes snap back at you. He looks uncomfortable; shifting in his place.

"You tell me" he answers, criptycally, inmediately turning his attention to Meg.

What does that even mean? He... He couldn't have known what you were thinking about, could he? Well, with how perceptive he is, perhaps he might have guessed the direction of your thoughts with those heightened senses of his... But certainly not Tech, right? He's smart, yes, but you hadn't been that obvious, had you? Or were your thoughts so clearly written in your face?

Wrecker bumps his shoulder into yours, trying to integrate you into the conversation and diffuse the sudden weird atmosphere that had set around you. You shoot him a soft smile; though your mind is still being pulled in Tech's direction, who had all but ran away to hide in the bunks.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech had been fighting your thoughts for one whole month now. And fighting was the apropiate word; because it had been madenning difficult to focus on anything else but the way you seem to lose your atention on the outside word when you focus on him. It had been a complete shock at first; his mind needing a few days to process this change of perspective. The realisation that your only problem with him was that you liked him a bit too much, that he made you impossibly nervous, had been hard to accept. Tech would have thought you'd go for someone like Hunter; but no, you were utterly interested in him. He didn't really understand why at first; but as weeks passed, he had listen to all kind of thoughts about him -from sincere admiration to soft tenderness to hungry lust-, and he guessed he could understand your reasons now.

Needless to say, he had been a mess. He was always so composed; but your thoughts about him had shattered his control to pieces. He spent most of his days either flustered, or lost in your own thoughts; to the point the rest of his brothers had noticed it. Hunter, who knew exactly what was going on, had encouraged him to bring the conversation to you; but even if he knew how you saw him, he was still a bit unsure. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable; and he still felt guilty of invading your privacy. What if you got furious at him? Never wanted to see him again? That would be heartbreaking.

The situation couldn't continue for much longer, though; he was distracted, and he needed to be focused on their missions -to keep all of them as safe as possible-. He had no other option than to confront you. Though perhaps... perhaps his way of going about it wasn't the most wise.

Hunter had gone to Cid's to deliver their part of the deal; while Wrecker and Omega had decided to celebrate with a few games of dejarik and Mantel Mix. Echo, though tired, had tagged along as well; if only for keeping a responsible eye on them. You had claimed to be tired as well; so you had stayed in The Marauder with him.

You were currently sitting next to Tech; watching him tinker about with an old datapad of his he was trying to fix so Omega could have her own one. He could feel the weight of your stare on his face; momentarily glancing down at his hands each handfull of minutes. The tension was palpable between the two of you; and Tech couldn't help but tune in into your thoughts once again. You were practically screaming them to him...

"Fuck, look at those fingers... So long and skilled... He really does have beautiful hands. If only I could feel them on me..."

Tech feels a small rush of excitement slowly igniting inside of him. He tries to focus on the task at hand; a futile attempt. Your thoughts keeps slipping onto his mind.

"Inside me. Fuck, wish I could feel them inside me. Clench on them while he licks my clit with his tongue and I could dig my fingers into his hair, push him against me, and he'd get me ready for his cock and... Oh, god, what would his cock feel like?"

Tech is so dizzy with the raw hunger and need laced in your words he blurts out an answer without wanting too.

"I wouldn't be opposed to trying that".

He realises, far too late, that his thought hand't stayed in the safe privacy of his mind; but exposed out loud for you to hear as well. His eyes widen in surprise.

"W-what?" you stutter, terrified of having spoken your own thoughts out loud.

Tech blushes and watches you nervously. The cat is out of the bag, now.

"I-I... Please forgive me, you were thinking very loudly and I could not help but listening in and..." he explains hurriedly, your expresion only switching from confused terror to terrified surprise.

"What do you mean? You... You can read people's mind?" You almost squeak, shocked at not having heard of any of this until now.

Tech nods, guiltily, and the realisation of your crush being aware of all you've fantasized about him makes your cheeks burn in pure embarassment.

"I'm sorry!" you inmediately apologise, wanting nothing more than to stand up and run away. "I-I..."

"It is not your fault" Tech inmediately cuts in, taking a deep, calming breath as if he is nervous himself. "There is nothing for you to apologise for. In fact, I am the one who should. Please forgive me, mesh'la. I did not intend to invade your privacy like this. I first thought you had a problem with me, and so I peaked into your mind twice to figure out why, and... And I should have stopped there, but the way you continued to stare at me made me curious and... I'm sorry, mesh'la".

You soften at the honesty of his words; and the affectionate way he calls you beautiful in Mando'a. You glance up at him cautiously; embarassment slowly melting away with his positive reaction.

"So you're not... You're not uncomfortable, then?"

Tech's cheeks are still slightly red; though he forces his eyes to stay on yours.

"No. It was a shock at first, I must admit; but your thoughts have never made me felt that way. Nervous, distracted, turned on... Yes, but not uncomfortable" he pauses and carefully adds "like I said, I wouldn't be opposed to try any of them".

You almost jump at the chance; but there's something else holding you back. You don't want this to be a one time thing. You don't want this to be merely sexual. He knows all your thoughts on this; it's just fair you get to find his.

"Did you... Did you hear all the non-sexual thoughts about you too? About us?" you ask him quietly.

Tech responds to your vulnerability with a warm smile. His hand slowly reaches down to yours; sending a shiver through your spine.

"I did. And I'd like to try those as well, cyare" he whispers, a confesion that stays just between the two of you.

Your heart soars; the explosive rush of happiness pushing a radiant smile on your face, happy tears on your eyes.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes" you chant in your head. And then, in case he's listening... "Kiss me, Tech".

You catch a brief glimpse of his answering smile before his lips join yours in a soft, passionate kiss. You sigh into him, melting against the carefull hands that slowly come up to craddle one side of your face and your left hip. Tech hums in contentment. His own swirl of excited, tender thoughts mix with the ones that slips from your mind into his. You kiss and kiss; and the passion and affection burning in both of you is so similar he does not longer differentiate in between.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You can read the other prompts for the 100celeb here:

And you have a lot of other clone wars and bad batch stories here:

[mike----wazowski]

sunday six hours..... thanks for the tags dears @four-white-trees @overdevelopedglasses

taggin the ppl i normally hit up @skysquid22 @passthroughtime @woundedheartwithin !!

not got much goin on today, just daigo beating up some fools lmao, writing's been hard this week

***

Asano stops the car by the side of the road. Daigo loosens his tie. “Stay here. Don’t follow me.”

“Y- Yes, sir.”

He opens the door and steps onto the sidewalk. Being just outside the city, this area is calmer, but ahead of him is a sight that Kamurocho is known for all too well. 

A group of men, crowding one helpless victim. One of them has a boot on the victim's back. Tears stream down the boy’s bruised face- he can’t be older than high school age.

Daigo rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying click. Next, he flexes his wrists. “Hey.”

His voice, tinged with the irritability of ever-present sleep deprivation, catches their attention.

“Step away from the boy,” Daigo says. “Now.”

“We got a big-shot here, huh?” One of them- a gang member, from the looks of it- sneers. “Look at that suit! Who the fuck are you?”

“I won’t say it again.”

“And who the hell are you to-”

Patience is a virtue Daigo struggles to practise these days. When you face yakuza patriarchs shouting over each other all the time, you learn how to cut through noise. Before the gang member can finish his sentence, he’s sent flying by a punch to the jaw.

[villainessprefect]

title: when the clock strikes midnight

summary: Epel decides to end the year with a confession. If only time was on his side.

ship: EpelDeuce

word count: 1,974

note: we starting off the new year with a rarepair. drink that applejuice-

Read on AO3

Light blue eyes are cast toward the clock hanging on the wall. Time ticks on despite the glare it receives. Epel wishes that he could halt time, if only for a moment. He finally has a chance to make his escape and he's getting closer and closer to the deadline.

The boy holds back a sigh. He doesn't slouch nor looks defeated, rather he remains standing tall with his back perfectly straight. Aside from that moment of weakness, he remains looking as poised as ever. Like a real Pomefiore student.

It's nauseating to even think that.

Epel gives a slight shake of his head and takes in a deep breath. He takes in his surroundings and before he can take a step forward, a voice startles him from behind.

"Oh my, are you finally going to see him?" Rook is quick to step to his side, wearing an all-too-knowing smile.

"Yeah," he answers. "And I don't want you taggin' along..."

Rook laughs. "But to miss, such a beautiful display of love for the new year would be inconceivable for one such as I." He puts a hand against his chest and lets out a longing sigh. "Alas, I have my own duties for the night and more beautiful sights to see. Make yours shine, Monsieur Crabapple."

Epel can feel his cheeks heating up and can't tell if it's from frustration or embarrassment. He's ready to bark and shoo his senior away, but the hunter does the job for him as he's already disappearing into the crowd. Despite his excuse to leave him be, Epel feels that he'd be keeping a watchful eye on him. And he isn't sure if he prefers his gaze on him or Vil's.

With no other interruption, Epel makes his getaway. Graceful steps are taken throughout the crowd. He keeps his head held high with such confidence that you'd never guess he was about to make or break his love life.

It's easy to find the one who stole his heart. The loud bickering gives away his location. Another disagreement between him and Ace isn't uncommon, even at a formal party.

Epel has to push his way through the crowd. Being short sucks and he has to utter proper 'excuse me's rather than force his way through. It takes up so much time and yet he can't break these damned habits. His stupid housewarden trained him well.

When he finally breaks through, he finds the scene playing at its climax. Deuce and Ace are butting heads, literally. Epel pays no attention to the redhead, having only eyes for the dark-haired boy. He notices how a fire ignites in his eyes, his old self bubbling up. It doesn't properly appear when fighting against Ace, but Epel is always glad to get a glimpse of it. It's so cool the way he looks when he's ready to beat someone up.

"Enough!" A loud shout escapes from their housewarden. His signature spell goes off and familiar collars latch around their necks. He's lenient, at least, once the year is over they would be free. It's still a shame that Deuce has to wear one though.

Well, now is a good time to strike, ya? Timing is important, or so says Vil.

"Deuce," Epel calls out his name as he makes his entrance. He's aware of his walk, the way he lowers his head so he could look up at him with shining eyes. A small smile itches on his lips as he holds his hands to his chest. Deuce has his gaze set on him and it makes him feel proud. Maybe using his charm wasn't so bad after all. "Are you busy?"

Deuce takes a moment to answer. It's only after Ace nudges him that he's brought back to reality.

"No, sir! I mean, I'm not busy, not really. Did you...Did you want something, Epel?"

"Well..." He hums, bringing his fingers to his lips while he looks lost in thought for a moment. "I just wanted to know if I could talk to you for a moment? Privately."

Ace whistles and Epel shoots him a quick glare.

"S-Sure!"

Epel smiles, cute. He doesn't hesitate to take his hand in his, feeling how strong he is with just a touch. His hands aren't soft, a little more on the rough side. He can tell by his grip that he's holding back.

The crowd is easier to avoid, especially since his destination isn't anywhere inside. He leads Deuce to a balcony, one that greets them to the cool night air. The sound of the party drowns out once the door is closed and there left alone together.

This wasn't his initial plan. Part of him wanted to drag Deuce to one of the more secluded halls, dark and quiet. There would be no wandering eyes there, but the other part that won in this internal debate led him here. A better setting despite the occasional glance from those indoors. Here the moon shines down upon them, they had the party behind them, and a pleasant view of nature.

Maybe Vil is rubbing off on him more than he cares to admit.

"Does your neck hurt?" Epel asks as he lets go of Deuce's hand. He looks up at the other with a worried look.

"Not really. I'm kinda used to this..." Deuce sighs, hating to admit it.

"I dunno how you can walk around with that so casually." Epel is lucky to have never been on the receiving end of Riddle's magic, unlike Deuce. "But at least it won't last long."

And he can use it as his form of a clock. Choosing to go outside meant he lacks any sort of way to tell time. If he were Rook, he could probably pinpoint the second by looking at the moon and stars. But he isn't. And he isn't sure how much time he has left. From his escape to finding Deuce to getting out here, it certainly had taken up a decent amount of time. Just how much did he have left?

"Yeah, I'm grateful for that. He's being kind to us, I guess," Deuce says as he scratches the back of his head. "Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" He may not be one to grasp delicate situations immediately, but even he guesses this has to be important. Why else would Epel drag him away from everyone else? "Did you want to see the fireworks together?"

"Yes. Well, I guess that could be part of it now..." It sounded romantic. A little too romantic for his tastes. But it could work in his favor.

Epel can feel his heartbeat against his chest. He clenches his hand into a fist and grits his teeth. He hates hesitating. Hates it so much. Yet all that hatred seems to disappear when he looks up at Deuce.

The boy before him is strong and handsome. Bright-eyed despite not being the brightest. It's part of his charm though, something Epel adored. He couldn't be cunning or calculating, but rather straightforward and honest to a fault. He followed his gut more often than his head. No matter how hard he wanted to change that, it wasn't easy.

Deuce is strong. Physically, of course. But he's strong for wanting to change. For never giving up. It's a different sort of strength. Nothing manly, although Epel could argue otherwise. Inner strength could be stronger than brute force.

"Your face is red," Deuce blurts out, ruining the confidence Epel had been building up. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

"N-No way!" He shouts out with a huff. "I'm not red, okay? Look, I just gotta tell ya somethin' before-"

A loud boom echoes and he catches the reflection of bright colors on Deuce's figure. A normally beautiful sight had turned into one of dread. His head turns towards the source to find the first firework of the night fading into the darkness. Then his head turns back to Deuce, collar lifted from his neck.

"DANGNABIT!" Epel shouts, startling Deuce.

"Epel?!" He blinks, worried. He's about to reach out to the boy, but Epel does so first. He grips the edge of his shirt and lightly bangs his head against his chest.

"Wh- You okay, dude?"

"No!" Epel whines and sighs. "I was going to confess to ya...Before midnight. Cuz ya know, that's the cool thing to do." He growls. "But I missed ma chance."

He's frustrated at himself. If he wasn't clinging onto Deuce, he would have easily thrown a punch at him or shoot off some magic. He doesn't care unsightly it would be for him and the scolding he would receive for it. He failed in his one, simple task.

Meanwhile, Deuce had straightened in his hold. Worry had turned to surprise and then his mind felt like it shut down when Epel mentioned a confession. Slowly, his cheeks were painted with a soft red and his heart began to thump wildly in his chest. If the other boy wasn't so upset with himself, he would be able to feel that change in him.

"Do you...are you going to?" Deuce asks and he feels so damn stupid. It's not like he could think clearly at this point though.

Epel lifts his head to get a look at Deuce. He isn't aware of the effect he has on him. How he looks so cute while clinging onto him. With a look mixed with frustration and embarrassment. It takes all of his willpower to not utter 'cute'.

"Guess I could..." Epel bites down on his cheek. The moment was gone. He missed out on doing something cool and pulling off a grand confession. The year should have started off better, but... "Ya know, I could do this too."

"Do what?"

Epel puts on a mischievous grin. It's that look that doesn't match his pretty features, showing off his true colors. With his grasp already on him, all he has to do is tug the other down. And while he's in shock, he goes in for a kiss. He has their lips meet, tasting Deuce. He gets the hint of sweet tarts, something that was probably shared amongst those in his dorm.

The smaller one isn't sure how long this kiss lasts, but it feels so...right. Fireworks continue to go off in the background. The lights illuminate them at night. His heart is fluttering and he feels like he's melting. This is something he's been wanting to do for so long. He's glad he decided to go for his lips rather than his cheek. The latter is a coward way out in his eyes.

As Epel releases his hold on Deuce, he does the same for his lips. He takes in a breath. His eyes glance down for a second before bouncing back up to Deuce.

"How's that for a confession?" He says voice laced with nerves despite how confident it sounded.

Deuce puts a hand over his mouth, processing what had just happened. His other hand goes to his chest to try and clutch at his heart. So many feelings come at him at once, and he isn't sure how to react.

He should respond properly, but can't think of what to do. So, he just follows his instinct.

It's Deuce's turn to catch Epel off guard. He pulls the smaller one back, this time into an embrace. He's practically squeezed against his chest.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Deuce shouts.

Epel blinks. Then chuckles. It's so ridiculous yet so Deuce-like.

"I...I like you," Deuce says, softer. "I don't know what else to say to something like that..."

"Act first, think later, ye?" Epel says, letting himself ease in his hold. "I got the answer I wanted anyway. And, a happy new year too."

[gingerbreadingwer]

Last song: probably "I don't care" from Fall Out Boy as comfort listening one evening but consciously listened to Dirty Computer from Janelle Monáe because I have been curious for a long time about her music

Last show: The four of us finished Buffy Season 7 last week - wild ride again the second time around but much more understanding for Dawn, she is just so young!

Currently watching: Looking - that light and San Francisco, and Jonathan Groff, a friend desribed him as someone you can fall into as you are watching - and we watched Karate Kid tonight, what a wonderful movie!

Currently reading: currently between new reading material thus revisting astolat's game of thrones fic, fascinating scheming and wonderful characters

Current obsession: cars and how they are too big, too loud and too fast, they don't fit in streets and they don't fit in parking spaces, and all the other stuff, a constant reminder of how much there is to do, to change, it is not a good obsession to have - so to end on a more positive note - always obsessed with people and their wonderful ways, their way with others, in real life and in TV

Thanks for the taggin @shark-myths!

And I shall tag @maschinen-mensch and @murrpheus

(Is that how it works? First I reblogged...)

[soundwavemain]

This one was a long time coming.

Original scene with closed captioning can be found here!

[alkahestric]

mlm (mando loving mando)

[direwombat]

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton for wip wednesday and @poetikat a day or two ago to share some of a wip!

taggin: @natesofrellis​, @thomrainer​, @adelaidedrubman​, @strafethesesinners​, @strangefable​, @funkypoacher​, @harmonyowl​, @schoute​, @aceghosts​, @confidentandgood​, and anyone else wanting to share anything they have (but no pressure, as always)

i just published ch 5 of fragile creatures and i don’t really work ahead, so everything i have for ch 6 is super rough, but here’s something that’s polished enough to share. it still needs a lot of work lmao but it’s better than the skeletons and single lines of dialogue/description or notes that are my other wips...

“So,” he sniffs. “Put any thought into how you wanna die?”

Pratt doesn’t look at him, or answer.

“No? You don’t give me any input and I’ll have to decide for you. And I gotta say, Peaches, whatever I come up with, you’re not gonna like.” He slices a piece of apple and pops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

He watches for any reaction, but Pratt gives him nothing. Just a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Disappointing. Jacob thought he’d be a wreck by now. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a choice,” he continues. “One of two options. Either A,” he holds his index finger up, “I crucify you. Hike you up somewhere into the mountains and nail you to some trees and leave you up there all by yourself. Someone may find and save you. Or you’ll die a slow, agonizing death.”

Still nothing, save for the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Or,” he says, holding up his second finger. “You’re shot. Back of the head. Executioner’s style. Hell, I’ll do it myself if you want. Nice and quick. Comparatively painless. Caveat is you gotta dig your own grave first -- assuming you want one. I’m not making my men waste their time putting your body to rest. Otherwise your body’s being fed to the wolves. Might be the only useful thing you’ll ever be good for.”

And Pratt still remains a statue, huddled in his little corner of the cage. The deputy isn’t a resilient man. He bows and bends at the slightest hint of pressure. Getting him to break had been easy. But for some reason, it’s here that he’s found some resolve. If Jacob were a more charitable man, he might even find his newfound conviction admirable. Pratt has only known Deputy Rook for only a few months, yet he’s confident she’ll put her neck on the line just to save him.

But Jacob isn’t a charitable man, and he thinks Pratt is naive and a fool.

“She’ll be here,” Pratt rasps, his voice rough from pain and thirst.

Jacob gives him a look. Amused but pitying, the same kind of look one gives a child who failed entertainingly at whatever task they were attempting. “Whatever helps you get through the day, Peaches,” he says.

annnnd here’s a snippet from the charlie/paola pre-ship fic that i’ll finish someday....no paola in this particular scene, but have some fun old fashioned heist planning with charlie + the lost legacy trio

He raises his hand. Chloe nods at him. “Yes, Charlie?”

“What are we gonna do about the provenance documents?” he asks.

Sam scoffs. “Provenance documents,” he parrots. “Lookat you using big boy words.”

“Fuck off, it’s a legitimate question,” Charlie bristles. “This guy’s a scumbag, but he’s by the book, right? Technically he bought the piece legally, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chloe says slowly, and he’s suddenly a little uncomfortable with how everyone’s eyes are on him now.

“Then there’s gonna be a paper trail. It’s not gonna matter how long we sit on it, the second we try to fence it, alarm bells are gonna go off somewhere. And if it can get traced back to us…”

“Bad news bears,” Sam finishes.

Charlie points at him. “Exactly.”

Chloe chews thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. “Okay, so we steal the provenance documents too. Easy.”

Charlie shakes his head. “Won’t be enough. We’ll need to get the digital files too.”

Chloe pulls a face, puffing her cheeks out and exhaling heavily. It’s so much easier to steal from other criminals. Nadine frowns, working her jaw as the cogs turn in her head, and Sam drums his fingers against the counter. Then he says, “I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Chloe asks.

Sam nods. “You’re sending me in through the front door anyways. We’ll pick up a USB or something at the airport and I’ll figure out a way to get into his office. Easy peasy.”

They all know it’s anything but, but there’s no way to hash out a more concrete plan without actually getting eyes inside this guy’s mansion.

“What do we do once we have the documents, then?” Nadine asks.

Charlie shrugs. “Find someone who can forge them?"

“Do we know any forgers in Italy?” she asks the table. Both Chloe and Sam shake their heads.

Charlie awkwardly clears his throat. “Well, there’s Miss Orsini, right?”

The silence that follows his question drags on for an eternity.

Then Sam bursts into laughter. “You’re joking, right?” he says, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “After last time, I don’t think she’ll be too keen on the idea of working with us again.”

“Naw, mate, she just doesn’t want to work with you again,” Charlie responds. He doesn’t know much about the history between Sam and Miss Orsini, but he does know that the events of the previous job working with her put him squarely on her shit-list. But she seemed to still be on professionally amicable terms with both Nadine and Chloe last he heard.

“She’s a civilian, Charlie,” Nadine says dismissively.

“One who specializes in the preservation of both digital and paper records.”

“I have seen her literally pull ink off of paper,” Sam says quietly.

Nadine sighs. “Alright, I’ll talk to her. But I won’t make any promises.”

[themareverine]

oh boy, what a doozy! thanks for taggin' me, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88. LFG!

*clears throat into mic* hello, this thing on?

How many works do you have on AO3? i'm not even sure, i'm trying to get into Ao3 but as a former ff.net girlie, it's hard. i have my reasons. i think maybe four?

What's your total AO3 word count? no idea at the moment, i'm locked out of my account (waiting on support, lol).

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes: (based on AO3 stats, modifying for tumblr due to aforementioned circumstances)

DESIGNATED DRIVER - oldman!Logan x fem!OC hands down. this started as just a brainrot idea but ya'll really seemed to love it. i didn't intend for it to turn into a character study of Lo, but once i got into that man's brain, i didn't want out of it. i just really love the idea of Logan being the kind of guy that sees the invisible girl, the friend-of-the-going-through-life-as-the-MC girlie, since I am that girl irl. the idea of Logan seeing me and wanting to see me just kinda makes me melt.

IN YOU, MY FORTRESS - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC first of a drabble series. featuring boy dad oldman!Logan, because that idea just makes me absolutely feral. based on this. and I had to dedicate that to @1800-fight-me for that post, which changed my brain chemistry and prompted my first oldman!Logan.

WILD MAN- Logan Howlett x fem!OC this is kinda an AU idea for my main series, Mare & the Wolverine. Jealous Logan, lol. need i elaborate?

BED OF BONES- The Long Night!Logan Howlett x fem!OC based on The Long Night podcast audio drama, which made me fall in love with a whole new era and variant of Logan. I loooove this Logan. words will never express how much i love this Logan. very much post-Weapon X, this is told from the perspective of an OC, and could very well become a very future sequel to Mare & the Wolverine, as it's written from Mare's perspective. survivalist vibes, which i love.

Subaru, It's You - worst!Logan x fem!OC. i love worst!Logan so much, and after shopping for a new car, this felt right. purely self indulgent again.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i try, when they happen along. i don't get a tonne of interaction on my stories, but, whenever somone leaves a comment or reblog or whatever, i try to reinforce good behavior. let 'em know i see the effort and match it. a DM convo with @bpmiranda actually opened my eyes super wide to the fact that people are reading, and equally respecting, even if they don't directly interact. i guess she's a fan of mine, which doesn't even seem possible, because like, i'm just little 'ol me.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? it isn't published yet. i'm writing an AU for DP&W, and the prologue is kinda an alternate ending to the events of Logan 2017, and it's the gut-wrenchiest thing I've ever penned. i can hardly believe that even came out of me, wow.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? none of my fics have technically ended, but the happiest fic i’ve ever written? probably TOP EIGHT.

Do you write crossovers? i’ve tried, they just never take off, but i do write a bunch'a AUs.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? honey, been doing this since 2009. the odds are yes.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i never used to, starting off, because my morality and faith gets in the way. but last year i kinda abandoned my morals for a hot minute and yes, i did. but then i recanted and sobered up and realized that's not the best use of my talents, so now i just like to write intimate, PG-13 stuff (because yes, we can have romance and spice without sex). since i write for Logan these days, i feel like there a cocktail of ways to have intimacy with him as a character that are not directly sexual.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of?

Have you ever had a fic translated? see above. ^^

Have you ever co-written a fic before? in the ancient years of fanfiction.net, mhm! i helped do an Expendables piece a few years ago. and while i may not be credited as a writer, per se, i thrive on spitballing ideas with other people, and i love to help out and be a sounding board for ideas and universe building.

What's your all time favorite ship? *nervous laugh* i really hate this question. there's a huge soapbox I preach from regarding canon ships, because i am a firm believe that media and Hollywood just haven't ever done many females justice simply due to the fact that every woman to ever be shipped with a man in fiction is supermodel gorgeous with a, usually, lackluster personality. they're pretty but just a square hole for that round peg. like with Logan, everyone is feral over the Jean/Logan and Ororo/Logan ships, but i just, i can't get there. not even a little. that's why i am exclusively an OC/canon writer.

What's a WIP you want to finish, but don't think you ever will? i wrote a Top Gun: Maverick piece last year called Abstracts, which really truly deserves to be finished but i am so far removed from that fandom it's laughable.

What are your writing strengths? another question i hate. i have to talk about myself positively? jeez. um, well, i think i'm pretty good at prose and tone? i love building out scenes with descriptors—always have seen stories in scenes, like film, running through the back of my brain—bringing them to life, so readers can see what I see, is a passion. i should’ve probably directed film. also like to think i am pretty good at hitting the nail on the head with characters, but i’ll leave that up to others to decide.

What are your writing weaknesses? proofreading. nothing worse. also the onslaught of too many ideas.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? it’s one of those things—if you can do it without offending anyone, good on ya, mate. if you don’t know the language, research. but always be open to critique, be a vessel.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet, but want to? as mentioned, i am a ship stickler. as for fandoms, i really wanna write for Reminiscence and Kate & Leopold.

What's your favorite fic you've written? Recently, BED OF BONES. aforementionedly, this Logan variant is super near and dear to my heart so it was fun to lean into the kinda post-Weapon X, twisty, survivalist Logan that isn’t actually Hugh Jackman. in the history of FanFiction, i wrote a Jurassic World piece that’s almost up to 600k views, so pretty proud of that.

No pressure tags: @joelsgoldrush @lubdubology @bpmiranda @logansbaby @1800-fight-me @ovaryacted @rqnarok (we haven’t interacted much but I massively respect you!) @itsgoghtime

Fanfic writer interview

Thanks for the tag, @niennawept!! (& answering under this blog since the VAST majority of my fic is Adar-related)

How many works do you have on AO3? 14, which feels insane to me.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 202,906, which again... feels insane. I'm pretty sure Adar is to blame for like, 195,000 of those words.

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Awake, Arise or Be For Ever Fall'n: My longest work, Adar's life story from his awakening at Cuivienen to the Battle of the Last Alliance. (Written and completed pre-S2, so his story after Orodruin erupts is, um, different than in the show canon. So technically it's a fix-it fic.)

sister golden hair: The Adar x Mirdania fic that I NEVER expected to write. This started as a ONE-SHOT and then exploded into an angst-riddled tale of accidental necromancy and Tolkienian zombies. Deus ex Mirdania!!!!

Son of the Darkness: The one-shot that started it all. The moment that my brain became fully unhinged. The original one-shot sketch of Adar's life story.

memories of dancing: A fic I wrote when I lost my mind temporarily pre-siege of Eregion episode premiere and decided to entertain the crack idea that Adar = Celeborn. No regrets.

Blood on My Name: Awwww... a throwback to the days when Kastle (Karen Page x Frank Castle from The Punisher) had taken over my brain. A little AU where a badly wounded Frank shows up at Karen's door in the middle of the night. Midnight MacGyver surgery FTW!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try! I have not been historically the best at this, partly because for awhile I didn't realize that that was what you were supposed to do. >.< Also sometimes I type responses out and my brain tricks me into thinking that I sound way too dumb so I abort mission. But I've been trying to be much better about it because yes, fandom should be a conversation and I'm so grateful for every comment I get!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? LMAO TAKE YOUR PICK, I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THE PAIN TRAIN. Honestly, though, I guess it depends on your definition of pain. I think Awake, Arise ended on a hopeful/Tolkienian note, so I actually wouldn't say that one. I think it might be "what law can lovers move," which was a little lyrical Turgon x Elenwe oneshot that I did, inspired by Orpheus and Euryidice. Those two hurt me so good.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? Mmmmm... I think "in the halls of awaiting," a companion ficlet to Awake, Arise from the POV of Erenyë, Adar's spouse in my canon, as she waits for him in the halls of Mandos. It was SUCH an angsty fic to write, but their reunion made it all better. That said, I DON'T REALLY DO OVERTLY HAPPY ENDINGS, SORRY.

Do you write crossovers? Nope.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? I don't think so.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I DIDN'T, AND THEN ADAR X ERENYE TOOK OVER MY BRAIN. "A Knife in the Dark" is the AU smutfest of Awake, Arise and I like to say that it's what happens when you don't let your characters fuck each other enough in the longfic.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Let's hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No... writing is kind of a solitary endeavor for me. I'd entertain editing, but probably not co-writing.

What’s your all-time favorite ship? I'm staring at this question going "why can I not think of an answer for this"? I mean this feels so self-promotional/self-indulgent to say, but I'm high-key obsessed with my OC Erenyë and I've definitely dedicated the most brain space to shipping her and Adar over the past two years. Turgon and Elenwe also have OTP status in my brain, as well as Kastle and SANSAN.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Mmmmm... I think maybe "Tides of Fate Onward Run"? I started this something like TEN YEARS AGO, and the basic idea was to tell the story of Gollum and his corruption by the ring through the POV of Nienna. It was a neat little exploration and I had intended it to be a way to explore a lot of the Valar headcanons I have. Maybe one day I'll get back to it...

What are your writing strengths? Mmm... I think maybe my canon adherence? For the most part that is my sweet spot with fic-- I like to craft stories that can fit very snugly into exisiting canon with few deviations. Especially with Awake, Arise, I wanted Adar's story to feel like it could have slipped right out of Tolkiens Silmarillion canon.

What are your writing weaknesses? Ugh I think sometimes I can slip into passive voice and I hate that. Also sometimes I feel like my descriptions are just way too flat and I can fall into "telling instead of showing."

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? The only other languages I really use are Tolkien's... and I'm for it!

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? Mmmm... well technically I have written for this ship, but I've never published publicly... and may never. It's Lalwen x Fingolfin. It's wrong. It's scandalous. It's a mess of feelings. There's extensive Helcaraxë angst/trauma involved. Don't @ me, they are so compelling to me. I'M UNREPENTANT, LOOK AWAY.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Awake, Arise! I'm so goddamned proud of that fic. I'd never actually completed anything novel length (fic-wise or original) before I wrote that fic. So that was a big deal for me to do as a writer. And I really felt like I told a damn story.

ANYWAY tagging @brynnmclean, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @mylovelylittleobsessions @clumsycopy and anyone else who wants to play!!!

[rodneymckays]

I know someone will have asked this already by the time I send this, but John Sheppard for the character meme you just posted. XD

BAHAH nope! u were the first <3

favourite thing about them

how he cares so deeply about his friends, but is physically incapable of verbalizing it in any way 😭 his emotional repression should not be this compelling, and yet. i find myself analyzing his every microexpression in scenes because i want to see inside that crazy head of his.

least favourite thing about them

hmmmmmmm. if i have to say anything, i think it might be the way he acts offworld sometimes. we talked a bit about it on the podcast, but when he tries to act charming, it comes off very, uhh, snake oil salesmany. if i were a pegasus native, i wouldn't trust him as far as i could throw him 😂

favourite line

"I'm a worrier."

brOTP

oh, so many. but if i have to pick, i'd say john & teyla. i love that their bonding time is teyla beating him up with sticks :'))) and how, when he's having an emotion, he tries his best to talk it out with her. and even tho he fails miserably, she understands what he means anyway :') oh, and that she calls him out when he's being an ass.

OTP

john & rodney; bing and bob of the stargate universe. “I guess in my own way, I sorta love you,” is the sentiment underlying all of their interactions. also, the taking turns saving each others lives thing. and rodney bringing out the nerd in john. and the way their relationship is so subversive? u would think the nerd character would be panting over the jock, just happy to have a friend like him, but with john and rodney, i feel like rodney has a lot more power over john than even he realizes (thinking trinity and miller's crossing) and i love that.

nOTP

i can't really see john with anyone but rodney, romantically speaking. but if i had to pick one i'd say john/teyla? painting their interactions in a romantic light kinda cheapens their friendship for me.

or maybe john/wraith? i kno there are some cool parallels there and usually im pro monsterfucker, but in this case? just can't do it BAHAHA.

random headcanon

he was raised in a conservative catholic household. this may raise some eyebrows, but i see it in his GIGANTIC guilt/martyr complex. i have never seen a character more willing to die for others at the slightest provocation. also, the way all the alien's that read his subconscious say that he "tortures himself every day" over what he perceives to be personal failures screams catholic guilt to me. that, and his biggest fear is himself. not to mention, that boy does not know how to function when he's being hugged. casual intimacy does not seem to be in his lexicon, outside of actual sex.

also, he had feelings for holland, but was content to go the rest of his life never saying anything or doing anything about it. something to acknowledge about himself once, then bury and try to never think about again. but then holland died. so it didn't matter anymore, anyways. (in vegas, john had feelings for the nurse he disobeyed orders to try and save and PARALLELING THAT WITH IN CANON EVENTS RE: HOLLAND'S BOTCHED RESCUE ARE JUST TOO GOOD TO RESIST)

unpopular opinion

he's not as shallow/boring as he's perceived to be. this is definitely not an unpopular opinion on the sga side of tumblr at least, but of the stargate fandom at large, definitely.

song i associate with them

johnny cash's solitary man goes without saying. but definitely heropsychodreamer by live. oh, and stereo by the watchmen. OH, and superhero by ani difranco. if ur interested in more, u can listen to my sheppard inspired playlists here & here. with another one in the works alksjdhfasfd i know, im insane.

favorite picture of them

i know this is joe BUT. its giving sheppard vibes.

taggin' @alfredspennyworths as well, who also asked for john <3 thank u!! i love talking about him bahah

send me more characters!

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

au where a creepy anon submits talking about and admiring one of Masons pets and he is like PISSED rip

TW: online stalking (Big TW for this one. Disregarding blocks, big ol' big ol' online stalking tw), kidnapping, pet whumpees,

If you don't want to read that part, just skip to the ***

Mason didn’t even notice the comments at first. To be fair, every time he showed his boys on his social media there were always comments about them. Positive, fawning comments about their looks, their expressions, and above all how well behaved they were. Those always made him puff up with pride at least a little bit. They were very good boys.

But, more and more often, he had been seeing comments that seemed strange to him - always about Rudy. Always from the same person, too, an eerily named BrownHairPetLover. At first Mason thought it was kinda funny, but as the comments piled up it got less and less amusing. Eventually after a very long and detailed paragraph about how much this person wanted his pet and all the things they had already bought for him, Mason blocked them. It was just too much, an entertaining stranger on the internet going too far.

But on the next update there was yet another comment, this one from BrownHairPetLover1

Why did you block me? I just want to give him a good home.

Disturbed, Mason blocked that account as well. And the next that appeared, and the next. It was unnerving, to say the least. He considered addressing the person publicly, but eventually decided against it. It would just bring the creep more attention. He stopped showing his pets as much, Rudy specifically, in hopes that would quell it.

It didn’t.

Besides his regular followers asking if the boy was okay, BrownHairPetLover12 was leaving more and more comments, demanding to know where he was and what had been done with him. By now his audience had caught on, just interacting with BrownHairPetLover22 more, starting arguments and making long conversation chains. It was getting out of control, so Mason did the only thing he could think left to do.

He put his phone away.

He paused his accounts, told people he was taking a break and deleted the apps for a bit. Whoever this was, they would get tired of this game eventually.

~~

***

One thing Mason loved to do with his boys was taking them on this trail at the local nature preserve. It had beautiful, natural paths with short boardwalks and open areas. They went often, just strolling around and taking in the sights. There was rarely anyone else there for some reason, almost like a secret known only to locals.

Mason walked with Clyde in peaceful quiet, admiring the scenery as Rudy darted around from new thing to new thing in front of them. The park was one place where Mason allowed to him touch and poke and pick up random things. Sticks, flowers, rocks, moss. He was incredibly quick and surprisingly good at catching things he probably shouldn’t be able to catch.

The picture of a triumphant Rudy holding a rather confused duck up for the camera was one of Mason’s favorites.

Distracted by something, the boy ran up even farther in front of them and around the path’s bend, dragging a stick he had taken a liking to. Mason let him, all three of them knowing this area well.

“I’ve got to run to the store before we go home, and he’s going to be tired out so you’ll be the one helping me this time,” he mentioned to Clyde. The pet nodded with a yes, Master, as he toed a rock along the path with them.

When they finally made the curve, Rudy was nowhere to be seen. Mason paused.

“Rudy?”

No response.

He twisted his head around, looking into the trees on either side. The boy probably just saw something farther into the treeline that he wanted to mess with. Mason cupped his hands around his mouth.

“RUDY!”

There was a muffled sound somewhere to his right, followed by a soft rustling. He peered farther into the brush to see a dark figure moving deeper into the woods, dragging something along with them.

Clyde screamed.

“Shit,” Mason breathed, frozen for just a moment before bolting towards the figures. It was clearly Rudy, one hand over his mouth to keep him quiet and the other pinning down his arms as he kicked to get away. The figure dragging him was wearing black, complete with black ski mask.

Not used to running through the woods, Mason lost some ground as he pursued them. He didn’t realize how shallow the woods were at this exact spot, a ranger’s parking lot just on the other side. The figure picked Rudy up as if he weighed nothing and began stuffing him into the open and waiting trunk.

Holy shit they planned this.

Needing both hands to get his flailing limbs into the confined space, Rudy was able to cry out for him. He could see Mason, could see that he was trying but was still too far away to do anything. With a rough shove, they got him far enough inside to slam the lid shut and get in the front seat.

By the time Mason got out of the woods and into the dirt area, the car was already speeding away, leaving the man panting in disbelief, both hands fisted in his hair.

~~

taggining: @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump

[babbushka]

Good morning from rainy old England again! 💙 First of all, I’m so excited for all the up coming pieces of work that are going to come from your sweet Husbands birthday session! Thank you so much for doing this for us 💙🥰 You’ve given us work like this before; but what would happen if one day Flip came home after a bad day of work and just needed some love from his wife? Nothing crazy, maybe just her asking if he needs and hug and him swan diving into her arms or something? Doesn’t have to be heavy or angsty, just our sweet old Mr and Mrs Zimmerman showing each other some love 🥺

Hello my dear friend! Thank you so much for sending this is! I hope you enjoy the fluff :)

1k, cw: mention of baby zimmerman, mostly just flip being a grouch lol

You smell him, before you see him. The moment he opens the door, an unfamiliar waft of tobacco hits your nose, and for a split second, you panic that it might not be your husband at all, until you hear the familiar curse under his breath as he drops his keys, and you smile.

“Honey? I’m home.” Flip calls from the foyer in the way that he does every day when he arrives at a decent hour, but even still, right away you can sense something’s off.

And you’re right, because as you round the corner to greet your lumberjack, he looks more surly than usual. He’s got a scowl set deep into his forehead, his lips tugged down into a firm frown. With a soft smile, you extend a hand for him and he takes it happily, lets himself be tugged into the kitchen where something hot and fresh is waiting for him.

“Rough day?” You ask even though you know the answer is yes, “You look like you’re going to kill something.”

“I fuckin’ feel like I want to.” Flip groans a little, sees his son sitting happily in his high chair playing with cheerios on the little tray in front of him, and gets over himself. “Just a lot of bullshit, one stupid fuckin’ thing after another.”

Picking the baby up, the boy’s bright eyes crinkle at the corners when he bursts into happy giggles, the kind that Flip’s never sure whether or not the baby is making fun of him, or just glad to see him. You always tease that it’s both, but either way, he smooches the boy right on his dimples in greeting, and sets him back down on his chair.

“Want to tell me about it?” You watch the interaction fondly from the fridge where you hand him a beer, one that he takes gratefully.

Flip wasn’t much of a talker around other people, he was observant more than anything, preferred to sit and watch from the sidelines, absorbing information like a sponge. It’s what made him such a great detective – he was stoic, and composed, and more or less a fly on the wall.

Except for when he’s just around you, in which case you’d be hard pressed to get him to shut up.

“Well first of fuckin’ all, someone parked in my goddamn spot. I’ve had the same parking spot for seven years at this fuckin’ station and someone decided to park there. New kid, Jones? Rookie didn’t know any better so I let it go. But then, the guy used my mug – you know the one I keep in the rec room? So now the kid’s officially on my shit list.”

Flip rambles on and on, listing off the things that he can remember in the moment.

“I had a meeting with Trapp where he basically told me and Ron we’ve got to push harder with the case because the FBI is going to get involved which is always such a fucking pain in the ass and we need to finish our work before they take over and have jurisdiction. And on top of all of that, I’m out of fuckin’ cigarettes at the office.”

“Oh shit, why didn’t you call me I would’ve brought you some.” Eyes widening, you feel for him. You knew Flip has been a smoker since he was thirteen and had no plans to start quitting anytime soon, and you also knew how big of a bitch he could be when he has to go without them.

Flip scrubs a hand over his face and shrugs, “I didn’t want to bother you, I bummed a couple off of Jimmy but he smokes Marlboro and you know how much I fuckin’ hate Marlboro.”

“I did think you smelled off.” You tease then, wanting to try and get him in a lighter mood. “I got worried for a sec, thought you might be sneakin’ off to another woman.”

“As if you’re not too much to handle as it is!” Flip scoffs, before rounding the kitchen table and pulling you into a tight hug, attacking your throat with bites that have you squirming out of his grip with a grin.

“Bullshit, you like that I’m high maintenance.” You wink at him, dancing just out of his reach, making him hunt after you, long legs making that job easier.

“Yeah I do.” He catches you, eyes flicking down to your lips.

You get the hint, and loop your arms over his strong shoulders, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck, twisting and twirling it between your fingers as he calms down, asking, “Kiss me a little?”

Flip hopes that his son is still working on those cheerios as he tips your chin up and captures your mouth with his. Almost at once you can feel the tension slip out of his body, he sighs out a long held breath of relief, finally back in your arms. It really was the best place for him to be, for everyone’s sake.

As your tongues slide against one another, eyes closed, lashes brushing against your cheek as your noses bump together, somewhere in the back of your mind you feel bad for Flip’s coworkers – you can only imagine the state he had been in all day.

“Next time call me, I’ll bring you smokes.” You pat at his chest when the kiss ends, and Flip nods appreciatively.

“God what the fuck would I do without you?” Flip asks dreamily, pinching at your ass as you step away from him.

Flip follows you, because Flip doesn’t really do much else when he’s home other than follow you around and bug you all day long.

“Die probably.” You throw over your shoulder as you check to make sure the baby is okay.

“Yeah, probably.” He agrees with a knowing nod, which makes you laugh, which in turn makes the baby laughs, and Flip can’t help but think how fuckin’ glad he is to be home.

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

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

I am once again taggin' some flip lovin' friends lol @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars

[a-dorin]

bathed in gold

pairing: maul x reader 

word count: 1.112k

warnings: none really! some fluff, a few curses here and there. cuddling, maul being a sap. maul showing emotion. 

a/n: i really have nothing to say other than this was my first post in a while during an almost month long writing slump. it’s very self-indulgent so i apologize for all the sweet fluff. it’s prolly sickeningly sweet :’) 

“have you seen him anywhere? i can’t seem to find his whereabouts.”

you fold your arms across your chest as you anticipate an answer, heart thudding your chest. your palms were clammy, a bead of sweat threatening to form on your forehead, just an inch or so below your hairline. 

this was not something that happened very often. if anything, it was rare. he was always so open with you, communicating his next move or venture. surely he didn’t leave the palace without telling you. that was so... unlike him.  

all around you, members of the death watch pace about, the sound of boots scuffing against the floor echoing through the vast space. to your left, the throne was empty, nothing but a shadow filling the seat. 

so where was he now? 

“i-i’m not su-sure,” the poor boy was nearly stumbling over his words, running a hand through his blond curls, “if you would like, i can dispatch a search party. i am sure we could track him down within a matter of minutes--”

“that will not be necessary, oli,” you raise a hand, an exasperated sigh slipping from from your lips, “go about your normal duties, and do not raise any alarm or panic. the last thing i need is the death watch tearing apart this palace.”

“of course,” oli nods, a little too quickly, “shall i alert you if we find him?”

“please,” you chew at your lip, your line of sight fixated on the throne, “alert me immediately, all right?”

“as you wish, your highness,” oli dips his head one last time, before turning to reunite with the group of crimson warriors. 

there’s an exchange of lowered voices. more than likely a strategy. a game plan of sorts. where to scatter. 

where to begin the search in the endless labyrinth of a palace. 

swallowing thickly, you swivel on your heel, mind reeling at the thought of his sudden disappearance. 

he did enjoy his solitude, his time away from all of the frivolous tasks and duties, but he was not one to just leave unannounced. 

at least, without your knowledge. 

rays of light descend through the viewports, streaks of gold dancing all around, illuminating areas that were once cloaked in darkness. it was approaching the evening hours, the sun well on its way to dip below the horizon. 

exhaling, your lashes flutter, briefly savoring the way the sunlight warmed your skin. 

snapping your eyes open, you blink once.

perhaps you had an idea of where your lover wandered off to. 

there is nothing but the sound of your steps bouncing off the walls as you make your way to your shared quarters, the pace nearly a light jog. coming to a halt, you place your hands on the doors, throwing them open. 

your heart skips a beat. 

he’s perched on a chair, draped in nothing but his trousers as he soaks in the sun. the light bathes him completely, casting a golden glow on his skin. the once inky black tattoos glitter with a honey hue, the crimson now cast with the same shade. 

his eyes are eyes closed, lips curved into a content grin. 

he’s bathed in gold, basking in it. 

and maker, how he looked so beautiful like this. 

an eye opens into a slit, taking in your presence. from the look of it, you’re visibly irate. your brow is furrowed, lips drawn together in a tight frown. yet, as the light cascades across your features, the rhythm of his hearts intensifies, captivated for just a moment. 

perhaps he should do this more often. 

just to catch a mere glimpse of your face when it’s bathed in the golden light from the sun as it slips away. 

oh, how completely and utterly radiant you were as you stood before him. 

a rumble sounds in his throat, “well good evening to you, love.”

your jaw clenches at his casual tone, fists balling up, “you’re a little shit, you know that?”

his mouth falls into a frown, a hand gravitating towards you, reaching out, “i didn’t mean to make you so upset. you’re practically drowning in your own worry. why don’t you come over here, and i can apologize?”

“you never just up and disappear like that!” you spit out, throat tightening with fury, “you’ve always been by my side, always telling me where you’re going and when you’ll return. you had me in a panic, you know that? even your own men and women were all up in arms, wondering where you ran off to.”

the zabrak sucks in a breath, rising to his feet. padding over to you, two arms wrap around your frame, pulling you in. for a second, you nearly collapse under his touch. how tender and warm it was. how his scent flooded your nostrils, so achingly comforting and familiar. 

you sense the flurry of breaths against your temple, followed by a light kiss, “i had no intentions of hurting you, love. is there anything i can do to make up for my escapade?”

“don’t do it again.” 

his chest vibrates, a hearty chuckle erupting from his throat, “oh my love, i would never dream of it. i am sorry for how worked up you got over it, i should have told you i wanted to sunbathe for a while. it was nice out today, and i got a little nap in too.”

“you irritate me,” you bury your head deeper into his chest, “i was so worried.”

“i could see it all over your face,” he plants another kiss, the frustration within you dissolving, “you know, you’re quite cute when you’re angry.”

“i’m not amused,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

a hand drifts upward, grasping your chin. your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes meet his, “are you going to forgive me?”

amber depths pull you in momentarily, encased by a ring of scarlet. you blink, entranced by the warmth flooding his gaze. it was a bright warmth, promising nothing but adoration and affection. a soft, gratifying warmth. 

“perhaps i’ll forgive you.”

“do i need to call off the search party?” maul presses, a smirk painting his lips, “i’m shocked that so many of my loyal subjects are so concerned about my well-being. typically it’s just you.”

“you were so close to being forgiven,” you snort, “till you pulled that shit.”

lips collide against yours, the zabrak bringing you in for a kiss. it’s fiery, bursting with passion as his tongue glides against your lower lip, seeking entrance. your knees nearly buckle, bliss rippling within you. seconds later, he pulls away, a throaty purr filling the air. 

“oh my love, did i ever mention to you how beautiful you are when you’re bathed in gold?”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

taggin’ some maul moots: @xcertaindarkthingsx @anakinswhore @elenamiria @maulieber @justalittlecloud @hounding-around​

[00gangfriend00]

GG FANDOM CHECK-IN TAG GAME

 #ggcheckin omgggg this is so special., thank you sweet meg!!!! i too, have not moved on. maybe never will??????? 

Emoji(s) or pic that represents your mental state at the moment:

What’s one good thing that happened in your life recently? Big or small!: ummmm more tattoo, and nice weather! Started baking more.

Currently watching?: Human resources. 

Song stuck in your head rn: can i kick it???? (YEA YOU CAN)

Last text you sent: “PATIENCE” - to you meg .

Your ideal breakfast: TOAST MAN> toastie and jam with black coffee. just homeade bread and a delicious lil spread. I LOVE TOAST. 

The GG moment that lives in your head rent-free: oh boy. probably just ~kisses~. the fact they kissed. and so slowly. and we saw it. and that whole scene WASNT FANFIC IT WAS REAL

Take this opportunity to shoutout one (or a few) fanworks or their creators that you adore:

newbies MichelleElizabethTanner and @justalilobsessed.  

How has being in the GG fandom impacted you? creatively? friendships? etc.?:

this is a big one. I had never considered creative writing before GG, never had tumblr, never had INTERNET FRIENDS but all of these things have brought me so  much joy. Its just been this cool thing that has enriched my life in so many amazing ways. I love that it has made me absolutely unflinching in the face of smut also.

i’m taggin @justalilobsessd @whiskeyjack @bourbon-ontherocks @sothischickshe @daydreamstew (do your own tag plz)

[cowboy-anon]

🧸 and 📚 for apple?

🧸 - A soft plushie

📚 - A bedtime story

Totally dropped off the face of the Earth yesterday aside for a few likes. XD Sorry about that!

Anyway, it’s a long boi, and it’s also the first real piece I’ve written about Apple’s time with Jimmy! Therefore, I’m taggin’!

CW: Broken whumpee, clueless caretaker, clueless whumpee, crying, implied past abuse, lack of boundaries, mentioned temper tantrum, pet whump, referenced past neglect, starvation mention, Stockholm Syndrome, whipping mention

Tagging: @happy-whumper, @milk-carton-whump, @sideblogformindtrash, @whumperfulart, @unicornscotty

(I lost my list, so if you want to be tagged or if I forgot to tag you, please let me know!)

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

A week in and Jimmy’s feeling pretty terrible at this whole caretaking thing. He shouldn’t have said it. He thought he was helping.

He shouldn’t have told Apple that Clay didn’t have his best interests at heart.

The tantrum lasted an hour, and after he exhausted himself, Apple stormed into the living room and hid beside the couch. Not even the bedroom he painstakingly prepared for him, Jimmy thinks exhaustedly.

But that’s not really important. At this rate, Apple’s never going to warm up to him. He needs to do something to gain his trust. Not that he’s exactly sure what that would entail. Words won’t be enough. Apple’s still terrified of him. Pissed at him now, too. So…

“Apple?” Jimmy hears a sniffle from behind the arm of the couch. “Listen, I… I have to go to the store real quick. I need you to stay here.” He would bring him, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle a busy supermarket so soon after, well, everything.

“I’m not expecting any company, so.” Jimmy shrugs on his coat. “So don’t open the door for anyone. Just… if anyone knocks, ignore them.”

His keys, his keys… There they are. Jimmy scoops up his wallet and keys and unlocks the door.

“Keep this door locked when I leave, Apple. That’s…” Jimmy sighs and braces himself. “That’s a command. Stay here, okay?”

He knew what to expect when he used that tone, but it still stings when Apple replies, “Yes, Master Jimmy.”

He nods to himself. “Good. I’ll be back soon.” Then he walks out, closing the door behind him.

***

The moment the door closes, Apple rushes to the door on unsteady legs, unlocks it, and wraps his hand around the doorknob. Just a few minutes. Three, tops. Three minutes until he rips the door open and runs back to Master Clay.

Master Jimmy doesn’t know what he was talking about. No, not Master Jimmy. Just Jimmy, because Master Clay is still his owner no matter what he says.

Apple puts his ear to the door and listens to Jimmy’s receding footsteps. Around the doorknob, his fingers shake. What if Master Clay doesn’t take him back? Apple was bad. No, he was horrible. He left. He left Master Clay. Why did he do that?!

Because Benji told him to—begged him to. They made him promise he would run and never come back.

Apple….he has to keep that promise.

This, this whole staying with Jimmy, it’s temporary. Temporary Master Jimmy. Temporary until Apple can find a way to get back to Master Clay without breaking his promise.

Apple can do that, but until then, he has to wait. So he lets go of the doorknob, flicks the lock closed, and he stays.

Less than an hour later, Temporary Master Jimmy walks through the door with a plastic bag. He waves Apple over to the bedroom, not Temporary Master Jimmy’s and therefore the extra bedroom. Apple’s chest tightens at the notion, but he does as he’s told.

Crawling into the carpeted room, it’s not at all what Apple expects. Instead of empty corners and glaringly bland walls, it’s… oddly homey. There’s an enticing bed in the corner of the room and beside it a simple but lovely wooden nightstand and lamp. At the front of the room, there’s even a little dresser. And… the room itself is a beautiful shade of olive green.

Temporary Master Jimmy’s already in the room, sitting on the floor against the foot of the bed. He wordlessly pats the space beside him.

Apple’s hands start to go numb with fright. Still, it’s a command—even if Temporary Master Jimmy didn’t state so explicitly. Hoping his hesitation doesn’t show, Apple crawls until he’s kneeling where he was gestured to and sits, careful not to let his back touch the bed.

Temporary Master Jimmy lets him get settled, then pulls the plastic bag from earlier into his lap and looks at Apple.

“I know we don’t know each other all that well,” Temporary Master Jimmy starts slowly, “but I noticed you have a kind of… affinity for apple stuff, so I— I got you something.” Apple watches, half excited, half terrified as Temporary Master Jimmy reaches into the bag and pulls out whatever’s in there.

Apple sees the felt stem first, then a dark green leaf sprouting from the top of the round bright green fabric shape. And then he sees legs. Eight to be exact. And eyes.

“It’s an apple octopus plush! Or a… an apple-pus?“ Temporary Master Jimmy laughs a little. “I just… I saw it and I thought it was kind of cute and, you know, figured you might like it. Given… everything…”

Apple’s staring. It’s an octopus, but—but it’s green and it has a leaf and a stem like an apple. And it looks so soft...

But Apple knows It’s a trick. It has to be. People don’t get him things, not without a lot of convincing. Certainly not unprompted. But… but Temporary Master Jimmy’s just holding it out to him expectantly, and every second that passes by, the itch to grab it grows. Soon enough, Apple doesn’t care if it’s a trick. He moves to take it, fully expecting to have it wrenched out of his reach the moment he gets close enough for it to hurt him.

Only it isn’t.

When Apple reaches out to grab it, Temporary Master Jimmy doesn’t snatch it away. He lets Apple take it in his hands. He lets Apple touch its perfect fluffy fabric and hold it to his chest. It’s soft, so much softer than he imagined it’d be.

For the first time since arriving here, Temporary Master Jimmy makes Apple smile.

“I-I got a story, too,” Temporary Master Jimmy continues, smiling like this is the best thing to ever happen to him. He pulls a little hardcover picture book out of the bag to show Apple. “So… so I’ll make you a deal.”

At the words, Apple freezes, and the smile on his face drops in a flash. The look he shoots Temporary Master Jimmy is one of pure horror.

How could he have been so stupid? The rewards, the kind words—of course there’d be a “but.” The salesman never let him off that easy either.

“Okay,” Apple squeaks, because he knows he has no real choice in the matter. He just hopes his behavior earlier won’t influence the severity of the punishment.

What is he thinking? Of course it will.

“I’ll read you a story tonight, but only if… if you sleep on your bed tonight.”

Now he’s just confused. Apple… wasn’t expecting that. He expected to be starved or to receive a whipping, not to sleep on a bed. An insanely plush, comfortable-looking…. bed.

Apple nods because he’s expected to. “Okay.”

Apple doesn’t understand why Temporary Master Jimmy’s face lights up when he says that, but he does know watching Temporary Master Jimmy jump up with the book in hand makes him nervous. Master Clay never let him on the furniture, nevermind a bed. He never told Apple why, but Apple assumes it was the filth that covered him. Besides, Apple wouldn’t want to ruin Master Clay’s lovely couches.

Which is why when Apple stands up with the plushie held to his chest, he hesitates even touching the bed.

He looks longingly over it’s big fluffy pillows and soft, clean green-striped white comforter. Then he peeks at Temporary Master Jimmy, who’s watching him expectantly.

This is what your temporary master wants, Apple reminds himself firmly. It doesn’t matter if he hurts you afterwards. Do as you’re told.

Apple swallows hard and lays a shaking hand on the comforter.

He cringes, waiting for the inevitable yelling, waiting for the punishment. But it doesn’t come. Rather, Temporary Master Jimmy says, “Good! Good. Okay, come on, Apple, you can do it. Get under the covers and I’ll read you that story.”

A story. How long has it been since someone’s read to him? Ages.

So Apple puts his other hand on the comforter, the one holding the plushie, ready for any reprimand he might receive. When he doesn’t get one, he pulls the covers back, crawls onto the mattress, sits himself up amongst the pillows, and covers himself again with the blanket. It feels… foreign. Oddly enough, just a little familiar, too.

Temporary Master Jimmy hides a smile behind his hand, not very well and definitely not in a way that’s reassuring for Apple, before climbing into bed next to him, staying on top of the blankets instead of getting under them.

Still, the proximity makes Apple freeze—well, aside from his hands. Those are shaking uncontrollably despite clutching at the covers by his lap.

Temporary Master Jimmy gets all but comfortable before noticing Apple’s discomfort. “Geez, sorry, I should’ve asked. Is… is it okay for me to be on your bed?”

“Of course,” Apple says without hesitation. His hands continue to shake.

But everything is okay. Whatever his master chooses to do with him is okay. His salesman knew that, Master Clay knew that. Why doesn’t Temporary Master Jimmy get it?

“Here.” Temporary Master Jimmy scoots further to the right, away from Apple, until he’s sitting on the corner of the bed. “Better?”

Apple exhales shakily. “Y-yes?” Is he allowed to answer?

Temporary Master Jimmy shifts until he’s comfortable. Apple takes the octopus plush and pulls it back into his arms, snuggling deeper into the blankets as discreetly as possible.

Beside him, Temporary Master Jimmy smiles. Then he clears his throat and grabs the bright red picture book from his lap.

“Right. So, uh, get comfy.” Temporary Master Jimmy flashes the cover at Apple, who can’t help but watch him with wide, fascinated eyes. “This is Corduroy. I loved this book when I was a kid.” Temporary Master Jimmy flips to the first page. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ll think it’s too kiddy or boring, but… just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Apple nods, barely perceptible, even though he knows he has no intention of doing so. Temporary Master Jimmy chose this book. Of course Apple will be grateful.

“Okay.” Temporary Master Jimmy nods. “I’m… I’m starting now. Uh, Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store...”

As he reads, Apple finds himself hanging onto every word. He kind of likes how Temporary Master Jimmy’s voice gets huskier when he reads. It reminds him of Master Clay.

With the image in mind, Apple finds his eyes drifting closed against his will.

“...‘You must be a friend,’ said Corduroy. ��I’ve always wanted a friend.’’

“‘Me too!’ said Lisa, and gave him a big hug.” Temporary Master Jimmy turns the book to Apple to show him the final picture, but he’s almost completely asleep now, curled up on the bed and clutching that apple octopus tightly in his hands.

Temporary Master Jimmy brushes a strand of faded green hair out of Apple’s face and pulls the covers up to waist. He does it so gently, so carefully. He doesn’t know the slightest of touches are enough to rouse Apple.

Temporary Master Jimmy slips out of bed and heads for the door.

Behind him, Apple pipes up, “Thank you, Temporary Master Jimmy.” It’s soft and a little hoarse from the screaming fit he threw earlier, but his appreciation is clear.

“Temporary Ma—? Uh, you’re welcome, Apple.” Temporary Master Jimmy chuckles quietly. “Goodnight.”

On his way out, he flicks the light off and closes the door behind him.

Without Temporary Master Jimmy around, Apple lets himself get truly comfortable. He buries himself in a mound of blankets and pillows and cuddles the apple octopus stuffie against his cheek, for once not worrying that it’ll be taken away from him.

That night, Apple sleeps the most peacefully he has in years.

[wandsandwheezes]

Ron's Girl | R.W

TW // none tbh its a little angsty but not really it's just pure fluff as I simp over this boy a little more.

Taggin my friendss again 💞

@hufflepuffgirly @weasleysflowr @witch-and-a-half @theweasleysredhair

If anyone asked, no, you weren't avoiding the blue eyed boy. You were simply getting on with your day (and hoping that by chance you don't cross paths), but certainly not avoiding.

That's not what Ron thought because really, in his eyes, you hadn't properly spoken in three days, which is a lot for two people who usually wouldn't go a few hours without speaking, or at least thats what he assumed.

Ron wasn't exactly the most attentive when it came to his own emotions, much less yours. Ever since the night in his room, which you were sure he didn't even want to talk about it, nor even bring it up.

"You look so beautiful right now," he whispered as you both sat on the windowsill, your eyes on the breathtaking view of the black lake in the background of the castle. His eyes, however were fixated on you, taking in the way the moonlight reflected off your features in such a perfect way, his big hand coming up to smooth down your hair at the back of your head, causing you to turn your attention to the red haired boy sat next to you.

"Anyone would think I'd have slipped you some amortentia if you keep saying things like that!" you joke, smile plastered on your face, moving to rest your chin on his knee which is propped up on the windowsil, the other leg dangling over the side, his hand still smoothing down your hair.

"I'm serious, Y/N, I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met, inside and out." The freckled boy was now smiling, eyes trailing out of the window, a small red tint flushing over his features, his hand now moving to gently cup your chin, "It's truly taking everything in my power to not kiss you right now." His thumb now brushing over your lower lip before gently stroking your cheek.

It was your turn to blush now, sitting up and moving in closer to the Gryffindor boy, face inches away from his, one of your own hands reaching up to tangle in his satiny hair, whispering softly into his year, your lips gingerly grazing over his skin. "Then what's stopping you?"

Without hesitation, his lips were pressed to yours, slow and full of care, the gentle nature of the kiss telling you all the things that Ron wasn't able to express in words, you respond by deepening the kiss, which became more passionate as you hummed against each others lips. It was the best kiss you had ever had, wishing it to never end.

His small kisses lead to touches, touches that wouldn't be shared by friends, memories of breathy moans and fingers tangled in each others hair. That night was what made things so confusing. After three days of torturing the boy, he decided that enough is enough, despite your plan to avoid the conversation. It was obvious that things had changed between the two of you as you wish for another night of breathy open-mouthed kisses pressed against open skin and interlaced fingers.

It wasn't that you didn't see yourself with Ron, it was far from that, you saw a future with him every time you looked into the ocean that is his eyes, an ocean you wouldn't mind being lost in. You were sure that all these years of friendship you wanted nothing more than for him to love you back, love you as his and his only.

What you feared was that he didn't want that, that he wanted to push that evening aside and continue a friendship, something you weren't sure you could do, because looking at his lips wishing they could be on yours would kill you and break your heart into a thousand pieces, knowing how sweet they taste.

He sought you out, storming around the castle like a man on a mission. Dressed in jeans and a dark brown sweater, one that you thought perfectly brought out his eyes. His legs took him from room to room; The library, Great hall, common room, study rooms, even the black lake and you were nowhere to be found.

He felt like giving in and begging Harry to let him use the Marauders Map just to find you, he was dead certain you couldn't be hiding, when it clicked, the one place he hadn't checked on.

You were standing, hands pressed against the cold metal railing to stabilise yourself as tears fall down your cheeks, you weren't sure what made you so upset but you knew that you wanted it to stop. You weren't sure if the tears were as a result of being away from Ron or for fear of seeing him again.

"What's a girl as beautiful as you doing up here crying into the night for?" The voice you'd been both dreading and dreaming to hear. In his eyes the moonlight was once again hitting your features in a way that made his heart melt, his lips were aching to kiss you again. and again. and again.

"Ron... Merlin I wasn't expecting to see anyone up here," You were smiling at him, a half genuine smile, but nevertheless a smile. "what're you doing up here anyway?" His heart broke to see you cry, his hand reaching up to dry the tears from your cheeks, causing you to step back.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asks grumpily, his mood shifting as his arms move to cross over his chest, eyes looking out over the view from the balcony of the astronomy tower.

“Doing what?” you ask quietly, using the sleeves of your jumper to clear your cheeks of your tears before holding onto the railing again. You desperately wanted him to hold you, to be close to him but not with the demons in the back of your head telling you that he didn't want you.

“Dodging the conversation about what we are, avoiding me for days on end, pulling away from my touches.” he huffs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You avert your gaze to him, seeing him in the moonlight took you back to his kisses and made you realise just how infatuated you were with the red haired boy.

“….Because I don’t know what we are, I'm just afraid I'll lose you.” you confess. He looks at you, connecting gaze for a moment, a moment which felt like a lifetime. A pair of eyes that would never grow old no matter how long you looked into them.

"Bloody hell, Y/N isn't it obvious that I'm in love with you?" he takes his hands from his pockets, hand snaking around your waist to pull you close to him, his frame towering above yours, teasing you with his lips just inches away from yours. "I want to kiss you and keep kissing you until we grow old together because Merlin, I can't get enough of you. You're my best friend, but I'd prefer you to be my girlfriend."

He pulled you in for a kiss, after being starved of his touch, you were sure you felt fireworks as you kissed each other again, It was a kiss filled with passion that only two people whl were truly and deeply in love with each other would experience. You knew that his kisses were yours and that you were his girlfriend, his love and his life.

It was solidifying. Hearing Ron refer to you as his girlfriend arounf others, a word that made you feel shy. A man who had seen you at your most vulnerable, underneath his own body, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of being Ron's Girl.