#i swear these three have like five ship names. um.

[stellar-collective]

my humble offering for fabricator transgender lesbianism february

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so be warned if he's not someone you like to read about. Contains swearing, descriptions of violence and killing. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,399

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. The next chapter is here and as you voted for, their first kiss is here. Honestly I'm not overly happy with this chapter but I'm excited for the next parts I have planned going forward. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight(here) | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen(coming soon)

——————

“I understand Joker is a very busy man and he has a meal organised soon but will he actually be joining us tonight?” The servant tensed when he was cornered by the Captain of the crew now staying in the palace. Under the intense stare and fear that these unknown pirates could become violent without warning, he shifted uncomfortably out of the added fear that he could say the wrong thing and bring the true terrifying anger of the King down on him. “Well?”

“U-um Joker has um…” The servant stammer out before clearing his throat and controlling his fear. His ruler was more terrifying than any of these men combined and he had to remember that and accomplish his tasks to the same standard as he would any other day. “Seats have been specifically assigned for Joker and the elite officers so he should be attending tonight.” His answer seemed to settle the Captain and with nothing else needed he left, breathing a sigh of relief when he was out of his sight. The Captain however felt new nerves begin to rise. 

He would finally learn who Joker was. Given how lavish the palace was he was more and more sure he was just some criminal that got lucky in creating a weapons empire. The only real threat was the power in his name and ‘elite officers’ in his employ. Where it just the two of them alone in a room together he was quietly confident that he could overpower and take Joker out if need be. Still though he and his men were on their best behaviour. Already they had countless ambitious plans in mind for later.

When the weapons were safely loaded into their ships and their hosts were too drunk to intervene they’d take what they could and what wouldn’t be immediately noticed until they were long gone and safely on the seas. Of course they’d dispose of Joker’s men that would be joining them and wait an appropriate amount of time before having word sent of their defeat. Their crew would change their alias and ship name and sell the weapons on. It was the perfect plan and given how relaxed the security was here in Dressrosa, he really had nothing to worry about. Allowing himself to relax the Captain stepped out into the Palace’s grounds and sought out the closest servant to grab him a drink. In what felt like no time at all he was being summoned to the banquet room. 

As he walked through the corridor, the rest of his crew slowly began to join him from other corridors until they were all led inside the enormous room already filled with the most delicious smells from the finest looking food awaiting to be served and feasted on. Multiple tables were set up and carefully arranged to make room for all of the guests while servants lined the wall, awaiting to be of assistance. The lower ranking members of the Captain’s crew and the lower ranked subordinates of Joker’s crew took the longer tables to the back of the room to mingle amongst themselves. One table at the top of the room stood out and it was clear no one was to go near it expect the Captain and his right and left hands. One servant led the three men to the ornate table and instructed them to sit. The three were spaced out, most likely to seem as though they were to mingle too but nervously the Captain also felt like this was the perfect way to keep everyone separated and helpless. Trying to keep those paranoid thoughts at bay, he reached for the already poured drink in front of him only to freeze. What if the glass was poisoned?

Thankfully no one was nearby to notice his hesitation and even if they had they had no time to mention it because from outside the banquet hall the sound of footsteps drew closer. Joker’s crew immediately silenced their conversations and rose from their seats. While other pirates fell quiet they remained sitting, watching curiously and waiting. The Captain watched as the banquet room doors opened and one by one people entered, each looking more and more intimidating. They all stopped by their designated seats until only two opposite the Captain remained vacant. Nervously the man licked his lips, wondering why two seats were empty. Vaguely he recalled some of his men mentioning coming across one of Joker’s playthings while they were bathing. Dread filled him then. He remembered the call where Joker mentioned his new lover. Had that been who they meant? His head whipped around in time to see you enter the room. 

You walked completely relaxed, gaze lazily sliding over the men sitting at their tables. While you spotted where your three targets were sat you gave no visible indication or reaction to where they would be sitting. As much as Doflamingo had promised the pleasure in killing them would be yours, you didn’t fully trust him to do something and pretend it was just coincidence that they were the ones targeted. When you met Diamante’s stare you smirked slightly, seeing that he was watching you carefully. Doflamingo had most likely asked him to watch for any giveaways that indicated who broke into your room earlier and from the slight annoyance in his eyes you knew he didn’t see anything. Smiling sweetly you stepped to your designated seat and lazily folded your arms on the back of it, settling your gaze firmly on the guest of honour capturing his attention. 

The Captain knew he probably shouldn’t ogle you so openly but how could he not? Everything about your appearance demanded attention. Your choice in clothing highlighted your form perfectly and showed just enough skin to catch the eye of others while still leave them wanting to see more. Whoever Joker was, he was a lucky man to have you on his arm and in his bed. Despite how attractive you were, what captured the Captain even more so was your relaxed attitude. Everyone else in Joker’s ranks stood tall and almost tense, waiting for his arrival, but you? You were completely at ease even when Joker’s purposeful steps began to approach. Everything told the Captain to at least turn his head and finally have his curiosity answered about the identity of the man he was scamming now but he didn’t want to look away from the force of your stare. Slowly he swallowed hard when your lips curved slightly into a playful smile and he heard his own crew begin to mutter and whisper as they tried to make out Joker’s face.

Then the ripple of shock and fear washed through the banquet hall when Doflamingo came into view, the feeling so visceral that the Captain shuddered without even seeing who it was that was drawing near. Then in what felt like a blink he made out the shape of someone standing next to you and finally you turned your head and seemed to break him from his spell. The Captain looked and froze completely to see the grinning face of Doflamingo Donquixote. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he had made Doflamingo one of the targets of his scams. Had he known, he never would have done it. Fear gripped him as he now realised he and his men were trapped in the Warlord’s base, his entire island. They were screwed. There was no way they were getting out of this. Unless…had they done enough to keep the man fooled? If they saw the scam through to the end could they make it back to their ship safely. “Do-doflamingo, sir! I-it’s an honour! O-or would you still prefer I call you Joker?”

“Either’s fine.” Doflamingo grinned, the frightened expression he was witness to was perfect and there was still so much more fun to come. “We’re all allies here.”

“Aww poor man’s terrified.” Your cheerful voice broke the tension as you, Doflamingo and the rest of the family slid into your seats. The Captain glanced at you, finding it easier to breath when he wasn’t looking at the man in charge. “Just relax. You’ll feel better once you’ve had a drink.” The Captain glanced at the untouched drink still in his hand and his previous paranoia came back. What if this banquet was truly a final meal? Was it all poison? As if reading his thoughts your laugh drifted up. The Captain all but flinched when you rose slightly in your seat and leant across the table to settle your hand on his to softly coax the glass out of his trembling grip. His eyes widened while you took a sip. You set the glass back into his hand and sat back in your seat while licking the stray droplet of alcohol from your lip. “See? Harmless.”

The Captain watched as Doflamingo’s hand settled firmly on your leg when you were back in your seat in a clear show of possession and quickly he looked away from you and threw back his drink. It might have been harmless but you were very dangerous. The last thing he needed was to succeed in his scam but get killed because Doflamingo didn’t like how he was looking at you. The Captain felt relief when the servants appeared with the many plates of food, managing to break the tension and everyone seemed to completely relax. Conversation began to surge up and all previous worries eased back,  the Captain being pulled into idle conversation with a member of Doflamingo’s family obsessed with art. While he wasn’t truly interested it was better to engage with the older woman than risk dying early.

Doflamingo leant in to speak in your ear, his voice low enough so only you would hear him. “And people call me the scary one.”

“What do you mean?” You asked softly, mouth hidden behind your own glass as you turned your head slightly towards him.

“You’re like a completely different person. Being sweet and nice?” He chuckled while you smirked. “Truly terrifying how easily you can pretend to be comfortable in a room filled with pirates.”

“I’’m always sweet and nice. Besides, who says I’m pretending?” You asked innocently. “I’ve never been uncomfortable here and none of the new additions here are going to change that.”

“Not even the ones who got a little too familiar with you?” Doflamingo asked, the tone in his voice hardening slightly. He watched you carefully to see if you’d subconsciously look in the direction of the men you had refused to identify. Unfortunately for him, you kept your sights firmly on his face, your calm smile unmoving. 

“Not even them.” You insisted before taking a sip of your drink. You dropped your free hand onto his that remained on your leg and gave it a reassuring pat. Turning your head fully you leant in to murmur “This isn’t my first time having to play at being a pirate’s lover so stop worrying. As long as I get the ones I want, I won’t ruin your plan. Deal?” Your only answer was Doflamingo’s chuckle in your ear and his glass clinking against yours.

———-

For the remainder of the banquet, the sound of laughter and conversation didn’t stop. Through it all you noticed a few of the pirate crew becoming more at ease, no longer shooting nervous glances towards Doflamingo. Either they had enough alcohol in their systems now to have a lack of fear or they believed that the Warlord truly had no idea he was being deceived. You almost felt bad for them. Almost. When the evening was winding down you’d found your chair pulled closer so you were lounging against Doflamingo’s side while he spoke with the Captain who was beginning to slur his words slightly as he thanked Doflamingo for his generosity and promised him he and his crew would be valuable additions to his numbers. 

You felt Doflamingo’s body tense and knew his patience was beginning to fray and he was building up to finally enacting his revenge against the crew. Some of the other members at the table realised too and began to move from their seats, the guests failing to notice their movements. Slowly you pulled out from Doflamingo’s hold and allowed him to stand.

“Everyone before we end this wonderful feast we have one more treat for the evening.” He announced with a broad grin while his guests cheered out. “It’s a game I like to call survival.” Immediately the cheering stopped and the drunken faces still conscious immediately sobered, terror flooding their bodies. “While I applaud you all for thinking you could steal from me and lie, I can’t let it go unpunished. So I’m going to give you all a five minute head start. If you can make it to your ship, you can leave with your lives. If you make it to the streets of Dressrosa but get caught, you’ll be sent to our Coliseum and fight for the rest of your lives. If you’re still in the palace when you get caught? You die. Your time starts now.” 

The reaction was immediate, the subordinates of the pirate crew scrambled from their seats and rushed for the doors, staggering and hurrying from the banquet hall. Any of their friends that were sleeping off their meal and overindulgence of drink were abandoned. Still sitting in their seats were the Captain and his left and right hands but it wasn’t by their decision. They were held firmly in place in their seats, something controlling their bodies against their will. Doflamingo’s laughter filled the room as he and the rest of the family sat patiently for the five minutes to pass. “Sadly for you, Captain. You don’t get to play.”

Doflamingo had thought that you would have left immediately too to make sure no one else killed your mystery targets but instead for the five minutes you remained in your seat, completely relaxed. When the wait was over and those under his command started the hunt you finally rose with a soft sigh and left the room. Ignoring the hurried footsteps and panicked yells of the pirates who ran aimlessly through the palace, still unfamiliar with the confusing layout as they desperately tried to find their way to safety you made your way to the chosen room. 

During the feast, the maid that had been so apologetic for not being able to stop your targets secretly slipped a message to the men while they ate and drank under your instruction. She informed them subtly that when it was quiet and Doflamingo wasn't looking they were to make their way out of the hall and follow her where you would meet them later to finish what had been started. Fuelled on their own ego, fantasies, and emboldened by the alcohol in their systems they all saw no possible negative to this proposition. They didn't see you as a threat. With a small hum you opened the doors and stepped in to see the three men waiting, their expressions impatient and frustrated. “Took you long enough.”

“I told you I preferred to take my time with these things.” You said with a smile, lazily folding your arms behind your back. “Besides, Doffy’s not an easy man to sneak away from. Needed to wait until he was preoccupied with your Captain.” At the mention of the Warlord and their Captain, the three men seemed to calm their anger slightly. “So who’s first?”

“Just because you're fucking a Warlord doesn't mean you're in charge.” One snarled, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against and headed towards you. “Like we told you, this is what we want.” He reached for you only to stagger when you dodged him with ease. Sharply you hooked your foot around his and threw your arm around his neck, twisting sharply to snap his leg and send him hurtling to the floor, smashing his face against the pristine marble floor. His howls of pain filled the room and you wasted no time in getting up and closing the distance while the other two were surprised. 

The next pirate closest to you tried to pull his dagger on you only to be disarmed with your precise training. You used his strength and your momentum against him to twist his hand and force him to stab himself. While the wound was deep and immediately debilitating it wouldn’t kill him right away, you were going to let him die slowly. Twisting the blade, you ripped it from his chest and whirled to shoot the third pirate in the back with your own pistol as he tried to flee into one of the side rooms. He crumpled to the floor, unable to move. 

The coward wouldn't even try to stay and fight you? Pathetic. For all that talk they were all very disappointing. Slowly you stepped up to the pirate you’d shot and kicked him onto his back. The least he could do was look you in the eye when you killed him. Coldly pulled the trigger once more and put him out of his misery. The only sound that still filled the room was the pained, muffled breaths of the first pirate, the one who’d touched you while you had bathed. You returned to him and stood on his broken leg, smirking when he cried out in pain through a mouth filled with blood and broken teeth. Holding his friend’s dagger firmly you crouched down until you were poised over him and stabbed him, relishing how much of a release it was for your anger and disgust for him and his crew. Unable to hold back you stabbed him again and again as all the frustrations you’d been holding onto finally slipped away. 

With a low sigh you rose and took steadying breaths. Suddenly you felt a presence behind you and your spun, blade striking down on the person only to hear the confusing sound of steel clattering to the ground. Blinking you saw the hilt of the weapon still in your hand but the blade was gone, now by your feet as fate intervened once more to prevent you hurting Doflamingo who stood in front of you. Slowly you looked up at him to see him grinning at you. Even with his sunglasses on you could feel the heavy force of the stare aimed at you. There was a beat of silence before the tension snapped and inexplicably you both closed the distance. 

Doflamingo’s mouth claimed yours at the same time yours melded perfectly against his. You dropped the useless dagger and your bloodied hand fisted tightly into his shirt as his settled on your lower back, pulling the other closer at the same time. You’d never had a kiss this powerful before, one that made your mind hazy and craving more so instantly. It felt right but at the same time it was wrong. You couldn’t allow yourself to give in, to let it progress further. The same was also the case for Doflamingo. 

He'd seen you kill them so perfectly and viciously that he’d felt pride in his chest at seeing you exact your revenge against them that he couldn’t help but kiss you. But now that he was in that moment, he couldn’t let it deepen. He had trysts and lovers, someone to fill the space in his bed for as long as he still got some enjoyment and pleasure out of it. He refused to let this get deeper, to feel anything more than he did. He was still set on defying fate and knowing you couldn’t be manipulated and used the way he could with others, he refused to give you more power. He refused to set you any closer to being on equal footing with him. In unison you both parted and hands dropped. Together you both left the room, leaving from separate doors. You headed straight for your room to wash off the blood and Doflamingo was immediately called for by one of the subordinates to inform him all the pirates had been dealt with. For the rest of the night you and Doflamingo both hated how much you’d wished the kiss you could both still feel on your lips had continued.

———————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @anicega , @splicer13vex , @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111

[bagheerita]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats User Subscriptions: 103 Kudos: 6,416 Comment Threads: 1,083 Bookmarks: 1,312 Subscriptions: 692 Word Count: 1,674,954 Hits: 115,408

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  Ever since I was a small child I've made up stories in my head where my favorite characters get to meet each other and go on adventures.

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love my writing playlist on youtube

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 11. editing is basically rereading my own stuff, and I'm the bitch I wrote that for so what's not to love? Though it usually sucks when I get to the end of what's written and have a that can't be it, where's the rest of it? moment, but hopefully if I'm in the mood for it I can add more on❤

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis Um... 🤔😻😭😭😭(i opened another new gdoc when i should be trying to finish something)

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? Like, IRL or in a fic?

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love I have just over 200 bookmarks and they are all fantastic

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  0. I check for new emails multiple times a day.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis @sorchakitty Hi! It's been awhile. 🙂

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  ...Neither? I mean, I prefer canon characters, bc that's why i write fanfic, I'll add in OCs when they're necessary, but I usually prefer trying to find some background canon character I can use instead if possible.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before Um, when I was a kid the three states I never wanted to live in were Florida, California, and Texas. Guess what, my family moved to Texas.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  Usually when I have "free" time I'm wiped out.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings I tend not to have firm headcanons... but in general I really like exploring D/s dynamics and I tend to prefer when the traditionally more masculine/outwardly dominant character is more submissive in the bedroom, though I also write almost all pairs as switch. I think it's a reaction to reading yaoi/BL manga for years.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? Post about Wraith stuff.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 1. the company delayed notifying the bank about my loan, so I don't have to worry about making a payment until next month. 2. I have a new foster kitten who is super cute. 3. I just "bought" an ebook that sounds like it's going to be really good.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  Buy eye drops

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character Sometimes I think John Sheppard is extremely overrated.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? how to skin a deer

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? I'm a sucker for regency/victorian AUs, and I desperately want one with Wraith as main characters. I'm trying to write it, but I'm not very good at the time period appropriate language and mannerisms, for all that I love reading it.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity You need input to create output. If you can't output (and you know, other factors like sleep aren't the issue) try reading or watching something new or different to generate input.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  I've seen the first 5 seasons of Red vs Blue so many times I quote it to myself in all situations.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? Detailed, incisive critique, with citations. 😉 Really, anything where someone quotes a piece of the chapter or mentions specifically what their favorite part was, because I can usually be like "OMG, YES, ME TOO!"

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate Ugh. I think the only character in SGA that I unequivocally hate is Lucius Lavin. 1. Richard Kind is good actor. 2. He's probably not the worst person in the galaxy, underneath the rape-y exterior? 3. He's only in 2 episodes.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? I do not.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  everything is expensive

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  not one that I can think of specifically. I mean other than it being fanfic for SGA, so... maybe I should say moderately mediocre media inspires me lol.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing You really need to work on writing conflict.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? generally dislike, because I like to plan things out, but it can be fun sometimes

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Scylla narrows his eyes in thought. “The name does not sound familiar,” he says. “Though I do not know much about the Fayn or their allies. They were the enemies of the Wraith.”  “Why are you here again?” Toriel asks, even though Dorsey tries to glare him to silence.  “I am familiar with their technology,” Scylla explains with a dryness worthy of McKay at his most withering, “not the individuals themselves.”

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? It was my nickname for my cat, since she was a "house panther" or bagheera + ita. Kipling's racism aside, I adore The Jungle Book and if I don't feel like explaining to you why Kaa is the fucking boss and disney sucks, I usually say Bagheera is my favorite character. Also when I first got into AO3/tumblr I was really into Avengers and Black Panther is my favorite/the literal fucking best avenger, so it was fandom adjacent at the time.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them Um, I was going to say my sister, but she's not on tumblr. so, less personally, I'll say @eos-x and @anonmadsci set up discord servers for Wraith-focused SGA chatting which is probably why I'm still in the same fandom after several years. Thanks!

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them My cat Amun, better known as Bug, often called Old Man.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it That would be literally impossible because like 90% of the fanart I've seem is also my favorite. I love people drawing Todd, and anyone doing fanart for stargate ❤❤

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately? I'm pretty flexible about character interpretations but... if character would NOT do that

[writingspacetrash]

Go Back

2,629 words

Although this wasn’t technically a dump, an unpleasant smell permeated the scrapyard. A thin mist smelling of metal, grime and oil hung in the air, her shoes already sooty as if she’d walked through ashes. The sun was barely visible through Eglys’ thick clouds. The entire moon was covered in the city of the same name – the Vars 3 system had agreed to place its capital here about two-hundred years ago – and with very few parks and gardens, the entire place was polluted by smog and and particulate matter from the thousands of vehicles moving through its streets. Everyone had to wear a gas mask outside because of the air pollution. Unfortunately, Zoe’s didn’t block out the smell of the scrapyard. 

She let her gaze trail over the shining grey landscape, reaching to a dark line on the horizon she could identify as apartment buildings. 

"What are we looking for again?" she called. About ten metres ahead of her, Martyn rose out of a trash hill. His long, brown coat was just as dirty as Zoe's shoes, the little free skin of his face oily from the grime. He was wearing goggles which made him look like a giant insect, and a self-built gas mask which didn’t even look that bad, Zoe had to confess. His short, dark hair was standing up in all directions, thickened by the polluted air. 

“Are you serious?” he called back. Zoe shrugged.

“Sorry?” Martyn’s shoulders sagged a little.

“A type three Krekil Key. About five centimetres long, sort of bent like this.” He scrunched his finger. Zoe nodded and looked around her, twenty centimetres deep in scrap. “Yeah, absolutely, we’ll find that, no doubt,” she muttered to herself. She picked up a metal rod, too long at the second glance. 

“What exactly can you do with a Krekil Key?” she asked as she threw the rod back into the mess.

“Shove it up your ass?” came the muffled answer from out of the trash hill. 

“Haha, very funny.” A few noisy crashes followed as Martyn waded away hastily from the now collapsing trash hill.

“It’s used in various ships as a connector, and Harral has run out so the scrapyard’s gotta give.” Zoe nodded. That was as much as she understood of engineering.

“We need to finish repairing that ship tomorrow, the customer has already checked in twice last week.” 

“Nosy customer.” Martyn straightened up again and nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh my God we have so many of them. They come in looking at the open ships all squinting and then they click their tongue and are like ‘Yeah um my Staryacht 2000 crashed yesterday but we’re throwing this huge party tomorrow so I want it done by tonight. 100 credits’ or ‘I only asked for my gravity stabiliser to be fixed, why did you also change the seatbelts’ when there’s literally safety laws to prevent injury and death with certain stabilisers and we have to build in those seatbelts, sorry Jayla.” Martyn threw his hands in the air, frustrated. “I swear to God there’s so many fucking complaints about seatbelts, I mean do these people have nothing better to do?!” Zoe clasped a hand over her mouth and nodded, trying to hold in  a laugh, but Martyn noticed. He sighed. He looked like a giant insect. Zoe snorted.

“I am telling you about the hardships of my working-class life in the most overpopulated city in Vars 3 and you’re laughing.” Zoe sniffed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I can see that.” Zoe took a deep breath and Martyn shook his head, returning to his search. “Anything new with you, then?” he asked.

“Oh, heh,” she said as her hand wandered absent-mindedly to her new belt. “Nothing much. Joined a boy band.” Martyn turned his head to her, expression unreadable behind his goggles.

“A what?”

“A boy band. You know, a band but only boys?” Martyn opened his mouth, then closed it again and went back to searching the scrapyard. 

“Makes total sense.”

“Yeah, I thought it was a dumb idea at first too, but I’ve played a few shows with them, and really, they’re quite cool. I think we’re gonna go a long way.” She grinned.

“I see you on the Interstellar Stage in Yechtera already,” he said sarcastically. “With your overwhelming musical talents.” Zoe gasped in mock offence. “I am an active and valued member of the Cosmos Boys, okay?” Martyn snorted at the name. “Cosmos Boys!” he wheezed. Zoe shook her head. “You just can’t appreciate the arts.”

“I think it’s something about the Cosmos Boys in particular.”

Zoe stayed silent in the face of this blatant disrespect of her art and began looking for the Krekil Key again. She took a few steps and squatted down, digging through the metal pieces with her gloved fingers. A glassy clinking caught her attention. She dug into the trash to find the object that had made the strange noise, and picked up something not too dissimilar to her own wristwatch/communicator. Its dial window was cracked, the black dial within showed three subdials, not illuminated. The leathery strap was half ripped off. She pressed the crown gently. The subdials flashed to life, each showing three rows of zeros. 

“Hey, uh, Martyn?” she called, not lifting her gaze off the curious watch. “I think I found something. Not the Key.” She heard crashing and cracking as Martyn approached. He yanked the watch out of her hand. She wanted to protest, but Martyn had lifted his goggles and was looking at the watch with such bewilderment, the protest died in her throat.

“What the fuck is that, Zoe?” he said.

“Not that I know.”

“Is that… no.” He held the device even closer to his face. By now he shouldn’t even be able to see it. He shook his head.

“No. Absolutely not. I’m taking this to Harral, we’re destroying it. Or giving it to the authorities, I don’t know.” He was starting to scare Zoe.

“What do you think it is?” Martyn’s eyes darted to her and back to the device again.

“Time travel.” 

Zoe’s eyes widened as her anxiety turned into excitement. A grin was spreading across her face.

“No way.”

“Yes way.” She reached for it but Martyn stuffed it in his pocket. “Nope. No one is touching this until it’s safe or destroyed.” Zoe’s mouth gaped.

“Oh, come on! You can’t be serious!”

“I’m pretty sure the law is.” Zoe sighed loudly.

“Yeah, the law. Do you know how far the law reaches? Not past this size D moon.” Martyn frowned.

“No, the law forbidding time travel was issued galaxy-wide.” Zoe rolled her eyes. She hadn’t known that. Not that it mattered much.

“It’s time travel!”

“Exactly! Do you know how much damage even the slightest change to time can do?”

“No one knows that.”

“That’s the problem! I read this book about spacetime and paradoxes and-” Zoe pursed her lips while Martyn was going on a rant about the dangers of time travel. An idea struck her and she pointed over Martyn’s shoulder.

“Police!” she shouted. Martyn’s head jerked around and she reached in his pocket, fishing out the device. Martyn turned back to her with a dark expression.

“I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Hehe,” said Zoe and enclosed the device in her fist. Martyn looked at her fist and all his life’s choices seemed to flash before his eyes. 

“I’m not even going to try to take that from you.” Zoe grinned at him and opened her hand to look at the device. She tried turning the crown and, et voilà, the first row of zeros counted up.

“I am assuming that’s for the year,” she said.

“You’re going to get us both killed,” Martyn muttered. Zoe turned the crown until it matched the current year. Then she pressed it at a venture and the second row of zeros flashed. 

“Date.”

“The universe is going to implode.” Zoe set the last subdial to their current time, which proved difficult at first because she had to remember the Yechtaran system using only three digits to describe time down to the second.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only jump ten seconds into the future,” she said. Martyn looked at her more annoyed than worried. She knew that meant he was really worried.

“It’s in a scrapyard. Why would a fully functioning time travel device end up in a scrapyard?” Zoe shrugged.

“Why would an active and valued member of the Cosmos Boys end up in a scrapyard?” Martyn closed his eyes. “I hate you.” Zoe grinned.

“Seeya in ten seconds!” She pressed the crown again and zapped out of existence.

~

Non-existence felt like nothing, really. It was the only thing it could’ve felt like, when Zoe thought about it later. It felt like eternity and no time at all. It felt like something fell out of her pocket. No, not something. Everything.

When she existed again, the sun was setting and her palms were burning with pain. She cursed and let the device fall on the ground, closing her hands to fists. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” she hissed as the burning slowly began to fade. She opened them carefully and found that the skin was entirely intact, looking even cleaner and healthier than before. There was a slight glow to them. She pulled a face and stuffed them in her pockets.

The scrapyard didn’t look much different. After all, this had to be the exact same place – there had been no setting for space coordinates. But a metre from her, a brown lump lay in the scrap that hadn’t been there yesterday. She prodded it with her foot. A muffled yelp emerged from one of its ends. The lump unfurled and turned out to be an ashen-faced Martyn. His reddened eyes widened as if he’d seen an angel.

“Holy shit, Zoe,” he gasped. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Zoe’s instinct to laugh faded from her gut when she saw how deeply disturbed Martyn looked. 

“Sorry,” she said, and meant it. “How long has it been?” 

“Only a day.” Zoe raised her eyebrows.

“A day? You freaked out over a day?” 

“You could’ve been lost somewhere in the vortex, I don’t know!? Give me a break!” Zoe gave him a hand instead and helped him up. His knees seemed to be slightly unwilling.

“Jesus, have you slept here?” Martyn shrugged.

“I didn’t know when you’d return and I thought, if you did, maybe you’d be injured or something or wouldn’t find back or I don’t know…” he trailed off. Zoe was taken aback at how shaken he was. She wanted to say something, more than sorry, but he started fishing through his pockets. His eyebrows knitted together. 

“I found something. Immediately after you left. Maybe it’s a side-effect of time travel.” He held out a jewel Zoe only knew all too well. She had looked at it a couple of times since she’d found it and had grown quite immune to all that Death isn’t real, Time is an illusion stuff. Martyn however had screwed his eyes shut and was holding the jewel as far away from him as he could.

“Oh, no, that’s just something I found.” Martyn squinted at her.

“Where the hell did you find that?” 

“On that planet in Kryx, you know, where I crashed?” Martyn’s mouth fell open.

“You took something from the planet that doesn’t exist and you didn’t tell me?” Zoe shrugged.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, you know.” 

“Zoe, sometimes I think you’re choosing to be oblivious. Not to certain things, just in general.” Zoe nodded slowly. She couldn’t really argue with that.

Martyn was studying the jewel with interest and horror.

“I’ve got to scan that with my instruments. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Zoe looked through the rubble for the time travel device. The case was broken, the glass of the subdials shattered. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna work anymore,” she said, a certain sadness resonating in her voice. Martyn threw it a glance.

“God, I’m relieved.” Zoe paid him no attention. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t just leave it here, though.” Martyn gave her a deadly look.

“Okay,” she said meekly and threw it back on the ground. Martyn shoved a heap of trash over it with his foot.

~

“Well, that’s interesting.” Martyn’s dry remark was almost drowned out by the high-pitched beeping, buzzing and whirring emanating from all of his scanning and reading machines at once. The jewel lay on an elevated glass plate, silver arms and red lasers flitting across its surface. It was driving all of Martyn’s investigative equipment insane. 

“Is it detecting anything at all?” asked Zoe. Martyn pointed to his ear and shook his head. Zoe repeated the question, shouting. Martyn shook his head again.

“It’s detecting everything,” he shouted back. Zoe scanned the monitors practically tiling the workshop’s basement. Every single reading was off the charts.

“What do you mean, everything?” Martyn shrugged, as puzzled as Zoe.

“Just, everything. Every single element, every particle, every energy ever. Even some things I don’t recognise.” He turned back to the jewel, adjusting the metal arms, but the readings didn’t change. Zoe tried to remember how exactly she had found the jewel. A shiver went down her spine when she remembered that creature in Kryx. Weirdly, she didn’t have a clue what it had looked like. Only that it could run really, really fast. She let the events that followed play through her mind, and frowned.

“Martyn?” she called. He nodded absent-mindedly. “Where did you get the Tonner from?” His shoulders sagged a little and he stopped typing on one of his computers. He didn’t turn to face her.

“Uh, I bought it. At an auction.” He failed to sound nonchalant.

“Ah, yes. An auction. Very interesting auction, to sell something exclusively produced in the monasteries of Rwdh.” Martyn now turned around, fidgeting with his coat. He was no longer wearing goggles or a gas mask, and there was serious regret on his face.

“Look, I went there because they’ve always got the coolest stuff down at Pucher’s, I’ve got some parts for my mask there, and there was this cute guy and he really wanted that ship but he didn’t have any money so I was like ‘I can get it till you can pay me back’ and he was really happy but at the end of the auction he was gone and I didn’t know what to do with the thing because I didn’t entirely know how it worked, only that it was a ‘Tonner’ and could ‘survive anything’, at least that’s what he told me, so I gave it to you, and I’m really sorry-” His rant was cut short when Zoe couldn’t suppress a grin anymore. Martyn’s expression turned sour immediately.

“You got a ship you didn’t know for a guy you didn’t know who disappeared and then thought ‘Yeah, let’s give this to my friend!’” Zoe snorted. “Amazing. You homosexual disaster.” Martyn crossed his arms. 

“I’m sorry that I thought if anyone could survive an unknown ship it was you.” Zoe put a hand over her heart.

“Aw. I’m touched. I also really want to know who that guy was.” Martyn sighed.

“Me too.” One of the monitors screeched and blacked out. Martyn cursed and went to check for the problem, though Zoe guessed it was just overwhelmed with the information from the jewel. It was kind of weird that it had fallen out of her pocket. It had been closed when she’d made the time jump.

“We need to find that planet,” she said into the room.

“And how do you want to do that?” asked Martyn. She shrugged.

“Go back?”

[switchspencer]

good evening yes i will would you like to discuss middle of the night “it’s raining outside and i got lonely” sex with spencer?

okay YES because middle of the night sex is sex with IMMACULATE VIBES and ESPECIALLY if it’s raining this is literally the most elite combination of things??

this went a little bit far and there’s actually two sort of blurbs under here.... yikes

word count: 1.5k (the first blurb is 500 words and the other is 1k)

ship: afab! reader x spencer reid

warnings: a storm, penetrative sex, implied creampie, neck kissing, sleepy sex, i think that’s pretty much it!!

i imagine it in one of two ways:

if you’re dating, he’s cuddled up to you. being the big spoon, pressed against your back, his crotch against your ass, his face nestled into the crook of your neck.

he whispers, “are you awake?” his voice is raspy and low, thick with sleep even though he hasn’t been successfully in drifting off yet, and so quiet you can barely even hear it over the pitter patter sounds of the rain at the window. you nod, barely visible in the dim lighting, but he feels it.

his fingers move from where they’re interlocked with yours, skimming over the exposed skin at your waist where your pyjama top has ridden up.

you use your right knee to shift yourself, pushing your body further into his, properly facing him. he doesn’t say anything. neither do you. but your eyes meet, and you can just about make out the outline of his nose as he leans in to kiss you. soft. his fingers following the trail upwards to your nipple, and rolling the left one between his thumb and forefinger. you lift your hips upwards, and feel him grin against your mouth. your hand comes to rest at the nape of his neck, using the hair there as leverage.

his crotch meets yours. he’s hard, really hard, and you gasp. he revels in the noise, it only spurs him to kiss you harder, wiggling his hips to make quick work of his pyjama pants. clumsily, with the hand that isn’t in his hair, you do the same with your own.

surprisingly (or, perhaps, unsurprisingly) you’re wet already. who could really blame you, your incredibly hot boyfriend is so insatiable for you that he’s forgoing precious hours of sleep.

neither of you strip all the way off. he slips inside of you. it’s almost unceremonious, like you’re just meant to slot together like that, nothing out of the ordinary happening. and in a way, it isn’t, you’ve had sex plenty of times. but there’s something different about this time. the way his mouth devours you, the way every move feels measured and thought out.

there’s no loud moans. no cries of each others names. there’s a veil of peace and content shrouding you that neither of you wants to pierce. it’s all quiet gasps, swallowed by his mouth or breathed into his neck while you adorn it with kisses. not harsh ones that will leave marks, just light ones. a small trail down to his collarbone before he captures your lips with his again. his breathing increasing in tandem with your own as he thrusts, your hand threading through the one resting next to your head. the other pulling desperately at his back. to hold him closer to you.

his thumb rubbing over your clit as he slips in and out of you. your head tipping back, biting back a moan as your releases find each other. the pitter patter of the rain never intruding on the moment. just serving as a peaceful backdrop as you lose yourselves in one another.

-

OR version two: you’re on a case together and he can’t sleep. he hears you leave your room, so he pokes his head around his door. you’d gone to the vending machine at the end of the hall to get a snack.

you almost jump out of your skin when you turn around and see him, tousled bed hair, head peaking around the frame of his bedroom door.

“oh,” he breathes, a mock whisper, “sorry i didn’t mean to frighten you. i just wondered who was walking around.”

“just me,” you reply sheepishly, briskly walking the four steps down the hallway to meet him so that your voices don’t draw out the rest of your team on the floor, “sorry, did i wake you?”

he shakes his head, “no. no i was already awake.”

“you can’t sleep either?”

“no.”

“do you want to come and sit with me?”

he tips his head, considering it for a moment. it really isn’t that big a deal, you’ve hung out on plenty of occasions. even shared a bed once, although that time every single breath he’d breathed had caught in his throat whenever you came within an inch of him, his heart leaping out of his chest.

“you don’t have to,” you follow up, and watch his eyes widen, “you just could if you want to. i know it’s no fun being awake alone.”

he presses his lips together thoughtfully, “um, if it’s not too much bother. i wouldn’t want to impose.”

“i invited you,” you say, turning around and using the key card to open your bedroom door, “come in.”

he follows you into the room. there’s a double bed, and your lamp has been left on. you’d had it off when you were trying to sleep, but the storm outside is pretty bad. as if to illustrate your point, there’s a loud rumble, and you’re so startled you almost jump, your hand flying to your chest.

“i wasn’t expecting that,” you laugh.

“there’s a storm coming in from the east,” he informs you, walking in and hovering awkwardly by your bed.

“sit down,” you instruct, “make yourself comfortable.”

you clamber onto the bed yourself. the curtains are shut, but you don’t miss the flash of the lightning that comes two beats after the thunder.

“did you know it takes the sound of thunder approximately 5 seconds to travel one mile?”

“i didn’t,” you reply, crossing your legs, “is it true that you can guess when the lightning will strike based on the thunder sound? i remember hearing about that as a child but i didn’t know if it was true.”

he doesn’t reply for a second. mostly because your pyjama shorts rode up when you crossed your legs, exposing a sizeable amount of skin that he hadn’t been privy to seeing before. he swallows, and your eyes fall down to where his gaze is sat, approximately a milisecond before he tears it away.

the tips of his ears turning pink, his voice cracks on the first syllable, “y-yes, that is actually true.”

“huh,” you nod, “do you want to look at the lightning?”

“w-what?”

right on cue, there’s another rumble. it lasts one, two, three, four, five seconds.

you pull back the curtains, wiggling forward. he follows your lead. the window is only small so you end up pressed against one another as you look at it. all darkness, the window pane smeared with rain that’s beaten down against it. his body is warm, and your heart hammers in your chest at the sensation of your shoulders pressed together. you swear his knees shake before he settles down more properly, sitting on the balls of his feet.

flash. the lightning lasts all of five seconds, but you’re not looking at it after maybe three. instead, you’re looking at him, the last fragments of it reflected in the lenses of his glasses.

“do you like storms?”

“i’m not the biggest fan,” he admits.

you’re staring right at him. you see his adam’s apple bob. it does twice before he caves and looks at you. in the lamplight, you can see his pupils dilate, the honey absorbed right before your eyes. there’s a static in the air that the storm can’t be blamed for.

neither of you move. a game of almost chicken. you don’t want to be the one to make the first move incase it’s something he doesn’t want, something he’s unprepared for. but his gaze drops from your lips and back to your eyes, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip and it’s so obvious that it must be deliberate. it must be deliberate because he’s a profiler and he knows better, knows what those kind of non-verbal cues suggest. so when you tilt your head, the faintest bit, and his follows in the same direction you know what’s happening.

there’s a warmth in the air between your lips, searing hot, and your heart thrums with nerves. your nerves couldn’t possibly be quelled, it’s too much, but your knees can’t quite adjust to the movement of your weight and you tip forward, hand resting on his shoulder. if he wanted to stop you, if he didn’t want to do this, now would be an opportune time to stop you but he doesn’t. he stares at you, imploring you to come closer, pursing his lips.

he’s a blur. you’re so close to his face that the features can’t be made out anymore and it’s him, it’s spencer, the one who finally closes the gap and kisses you.

really kisses you. it starts off slow. gentle. tentative. the heat radiates off his hand but he doesn’t bring it to your waist until you lean in to deepen the kiss. and then he holds you.

it moves so far so fast. the kissing is hurried, enthusiastic, as if now you’ve started you can’t quite fathom how you’d go about stopping. shedding clothes, thrown behind you in your haste. the rumble of thunder is the soundtrack as you pepper kisses all down his body, sucking marks that will purple right above his hipbone. pressing him back against the headboard. when he looks up at you, glasses slipping down his nose, he’s no longer the picture of innocence.

it happens so fast you’re not sure how you get there but what you do know is you’re on top of him, riding him, both so fucking loud that you’re not sure even the sounds of the storm can drown you out.

LINK TO JOIN TAGSLIST (for this blog and @reidyoulikeabook )

NSFW Spencer tagslist: @fiftyshadesofspencerreid @holding-on-to-my-youth @spencerreidat3am @muffin-cup @ssareidbby @reidyourmind @lumosemily @reidaissance @hauntedinsomnia @averyhotchner @sunkissglow @reidsacademia @gingertea6460 @opheli-yeah @meganskane @idonotexiste @thosecriminalminds

[darthwheezely]

dating fred weasley and being a ravenclaw

wow i am a SIMP for this man! this ain’t new info but! he is truly such a divine man and like…yeah i had to- also this might be longer because Fred has a lot more things to cover in terms of this and his own issues sksksjjs

warnings: light smut, angst at parts, wicked hot men named frederick gideon weasley, mentions of sexual degrading and not the hot or kinky kind :/ basically dudes being scumbags

people that might like this (?): @whiz-bangs78 @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thatdumbbitchxx @pansydaisy​@vogueweasley @slytherinsunrise @thehufflepuffwife @theweasleyslut dm me to be on the twins taglist or for requests for blurbs/ships/one shots :)

fred thinks you’re an actual literal on god 111% angel sent by god

i swear-

he basically runs into (…literally) when escaping from filch, and knocks into you coming out of transfiguration

and i shit you not, he catches you by the waist like mid dip

oh my GOD please I’m in love with him

Fred Weasley, professional jackass, looked down at you hand still on your waist. He grinned at you and winked and you swore to god you heard the sparkle sound effect. “Hullo, gorgeous.” He heard filch scream “WEASLEY!” and broke away from you, pulling you up and pushing you off of him, leading a running filch to slip in the middle of the hallway, the hall erupting in laughter: including you. Fred inhaled harshly, heart pounding at you laughing at something he managed to pull off. “I’ll…I’ll see you again, yeah?” You froze smiling in place. “Um…yeah…yeah you will?” “Yeah?” He grinned. “Yeah.” With another wink he sped off down the hall…

he couldn’t stop thinking about the wicked hot girl in the hall

god what house was she he thought?

oh shit she had blue on fuck she’s a ravenclaw he thinks. why does he think like that?

she’s outta my goddamn league, he thought before he could stop himself

“Freddie, I know you’re not giving up on the idea of this girl this easy.” George shook his head smirking in the Hall.

“I’m not giving up on anything - she’s just…too good for me.”

“Mate, you know nothing about her except how her eyes ‘sparkled like the stars’ or some whack Tolstoy shit like that…besides, you always did love a challenge, yeah?” At that Fred grinned.

“Georgie, I was thinking exactly the same thing…”

frederick gideon weasley knew what he had to do

FUCKING RUN AROUND THE CASTLE AND LOOK FOR YOU DUH

i swear he probably skipped like a half a day of classes just running from classroom to classroom tryna find your gorgeous self

he also probably was like “anyone seen a literal angel around” and everyone was just like ~please shoot this kid he cannot be deadass~

anyway, he’s starting to run out of breath guys, pobrecito is about to give up for the day and throw in the towel but then

then, fellas and foals-

he sees you

sitting in the center of the quidditch pitch

reading a book and writing in your notebook

and god when i tell you he physically had his ass floored

i mean, Jesus Christ, it’s the way you were just serenely sitting in HIS favorite place in hogwarts, not even in the stands, just absorbing life in the ACTUAL PITCH just

just being there

“What are you doing here, love?” You look up and see Fred, chest heaving, rosy cheeked and fucking glorious. He looked otherworldly with the sun at his back, seemingly glowing. “Knitting a sweater.” You said coolly, and gave a small smile. He bit his lip and made his way over to you and sat down in front of you.

“I’d like that sweater somewhere else, gorgeous.”

“Where, in your mum’s dirty laundry?” He scoffed

“No silly, on me but I’ll take that option too ;)”

You scoffed back and rolled your eyes. “On you? Please, this is made to fit an actual person with a body, Fred.”

“And I don’t have a good enough body for it?”

You bit your lip, gathering courage to look straight back at him. “I wouldn’t know I haven’t seen it.”

and that alone has Fred Weasley garnering a massive tent in his pants

He gulped. “Whats your name, darling?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

He grinned, blushing wildly. “Y/N, you’re never getting rid of me now”

that, my dear, was the truth at its finest

for the first time, he’d found a woman that matched his energy

his banter his intellectual mind was finally satisfied by this beautiful, honest, blunt girl that made him

HIM, THE MAN THAT CAN NEVER SHUT THE FUCK UP, be still.

be quiet. be at peace

“freddie, don’t fucking prank first years you’re better than that”

“Fred, please don’t be a bully. You’re not an unkind person so don’t act that way, okay? Come on”

it’s about three to five days of just non stop flirting

constantly leaving him breathless and without a rebuttal, again something no one has ever been able to do

after this period, he’s eating in the great hall, not having talked to you today and bouncing his knees violently

and he sees you get up and leave the hall

this prompts him to get up and run after you

“Y/N!” You turn to see him running full speed behind you, and you smile widely, blushing a fair ton as he stops in front of you, chest heaving. Your smile falters as he doesn’t say anything “Fred, w-what’s wrong?” He then bites his lip “I’m sorry but I have to” and presses his mouth to yours. You kiss back immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck as he backs you up against the wall. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and after a few moments he pulls off you and leans his forehead to yours. “I need you.” He says hoarsely. “And I need YOU, Freddie.” He smiles and you wrap your legs around his waist…

from that moment, you two are inseparable

we are talking handsy too

oh fuck this about to get fluffy as hell

freddie basically waits until you’re out of class and then will pin you against the wall and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years

“My angel, it’s been far too long.” He says breathlessly, smiling wide before giving you a kiss attack, sending ammunition of kisses all around your face, making you giggle uncontrollably. “My love, it’s only been an hour,” you say in between full body laughter. He then stops, looking at you very seriously. “Darling, that simply will not do,” he clucks and then throws you over his shoulder, sending you into fits of laughter again as he takes you to your next class.

you and fred have so much sex

empty classrooms

in his dorm

in your dorm

in the locker rooms

in the library

“Freddie, harder baby, please” you gasp out as he’s thrusting inside of you at a rhythmic pace, him slipping into you like hot oil, skin slapping as he has you in the shower. “How much do you need me, angel? Cmon love I wanna hear your words...” “yes, yes I need you please” you moan as he hits a new angle “That’s my princess, taking me so well, do you love it when I fill you up? Fuck you so good you can’t walk?” You nod and throw your head back. “Freddie, I’m gonna come” “Good girl, princess, come all over my cock” He growls setting a faster and harder pace, as he chants your name like a hymnal, his hips and movements getting sloppier as he finally releases into you, chest heaving and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Where should we try next, gorgeous, hmm? I think snape’s office should do it, he won’t even know us from the grease stains from his nose” this earns him a smack on the arm

fred marks you up constantly too

wants everyone to see how much his “good little princess” really feels

anything that says “I choose/belong to fred weasley” he’ll make you do

and you adore it and think it’s hot as fuck

he’s also marked his name onto your thighs and boobs before

george basically accepts the fact that you’re his new baby sister too, and when fred isn’t there will protect you like it ashsajdsahjsa

by this i mean fred has employed him to (but mainly george just does it because he loves you too)

but basically

during potions, draco slides in next to you and propositions you:

“How about we strike a deal, Y/L/N?” He looks at you smugly. You roll your jaw. “Yeah I agree, you shut the fuck up and let me pass our project, and I get all the credit without you destroying my handiwork?” He flares red and grabs your wrist. “I know Weaselbee the fourth probably tastes like the rest of his family - trash - but how I about I let you try something different, hmm?” You immediately pull away from him when he releases and make an attempt to focus back on your book. 

fred obviously hears about this because some slytherin guys in the hallway are talking about how much Y/N wants to suck Malfoy’s dick

he’s not stupid, he knows you get sexualized by that dumbass constantly, even before y’all started dating

basically he finds draco in the boys bathroom, corners him, and beats the fuck out of him 

“if you ever get near my girlfriend again, i swear to godric i won’t be so nice next time - don’t wanna get your balls cut off before 17 do you?” 

oh and he’s stupid hot when he’s mad btw but we all been knew

he finds you where he always finds you once you start dating, in his dorm stop his bed

He swallows thickly at the sight of you clearly upset, watching you sit up immediately tears welling in your throat as you begin to apologize. “Freddie, love, I didn’t do anything I promise I didn’t want him to come onto me-“ “Y/N, it’s never your fault. You have to trust me with that I...I hate seeing people hurt you love.” He pulls your body into him whne he reaches the bed, touching you like you’re porcelain, careful not to break you. “I know I get violent and angry or pouty when guys do that to you because I feel like you’ll either choose someone else or I can’t protect you and...you mean everything to me, my angel.” He whispers into your hair, tears stealing on his cheeks. “I promise no one will hurt you anymore because I love you and loving someone means you do anything for them.” He babbles like a small boy, convincing himself of everything until he realizes he’s said it and he inhales. “Y/N y-you don’t have to say it ba-“ “I want to say it back. Remember? I love you and I need you, Fred.” You look up at him softly, chin on his chest and he smiles through tears on his face. “And I love you and I need YOU, my love.”

fred knows you love him and choose him over everyone but again

he gets insecure

in the way George is scared people won’t see him as Fred

fred is afraid you’ll find someone better

someone more stable and less quick tempered

you guys have fights sometimes that end in frustration or angry sex

but fred is always there an hour later sitting outside your dorm door praying to god you forgive him for his mistake

he’s never abusive or malicious

he just gets impulsive with pranks or doesn’t consider feelings sometimes

ON TO THE BURROW!!!!

molly is so thankful for you and hugs you immediately as you walk through the door whispering

“Thank you for making my son feel how he deserves” and your eyes water lightly murmuring a thank you

you instantly catch bill’s attention as he notices the way fred is so much calmer and confident with you around

he seems more sure of himself, and not as angry

his temper too is calmer with your presence, as if the very essence of you is soothing to all youre around

he is, so so in love with you

and yes he can be brash

and yes he can be insecure

and yes he can be impulsive

but yes he would do anything for you

but yes he sees you like no one else can

but yes he knows you struggle and he wants to be there

fred weasley is absolutely incandescently in love with you

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (23/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,018

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, funeral

masterlist

a/n: this little chapter drop!!!

The funeral was three days later.

You’d taken it upon yourself to stay in the Stark cabin, licking your wounds and mourning the loss of the man you’d spent almost a decade of your life with. You’d mourned losing him before, but this was different.

This was permanent.

There’d be no more chances to go see him in Buffalo. There’d be no more watching him paint in his home studio, seeing the life he built for himself.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since you left the hospital.

You had walked out of Steve’s room, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a death march as you had to face his family, had to face Peggy, the daughter that was named after you. “He’s gone,” you’d said, hands trembling. “I…”

“Oh, honey,” Peggy had whispered, moving to hug you as her own pain welled up in her eyes.

“I have to go,” you had insisted as you quickly slipped out of her grasp, speeding down the hall. You’d left the members of your little family in the waiting room, knowing that they’d gotten to talk to him before he’d passed but still feeling so guilty because you were the last one he’d seen. The last one he’d talked to.

You hadn’t even stopped when Bucky and Wanda had called out your name. You had the car keys in your hand, since he’d given them to you at some point in the blur of the day.

You’d left him there.

The pain was unbearable.

You’d spent the past three days at the bottom of a bottle, blasting all the playlists that Tony had saved. At some point, it had switched to a playlist full of old jazz music from the forties.

You’d thrown the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter.

Sweeping it up while absolutely plastered had been… an adventure. You had the bandages on your feet to prove it.

But you’d gotten it all swept up and into the trash before moving onto the next bottle.

You’d turned off your phone after the fourth phone call and the eighteenth text.

But Bucky didn’t show up. He didn’t come banging on your door like you hoped he would, swooping in and kissing you like the prince in a fairytale.

It was monumentally disappointing.

When you arrived at the funeral, you’d thrown the car into park and then sat in the lot outside for at least forty-five minutes. You’d shown up early entirely because you knew that you’d need time to gather the courage to go inside.

You’d had to order a black dress and heels with express shipping, since you hadn’t exactly thought to pack them when you and Bucky had gone on your little vacation and you didn’t really feel like going out to go shopping.

Your mistake.

It had taken a lot of effort to actually shower and do your hair and makeup. Your ankles felt like they’d give out any moment as you slammed the car door shut and headed inside.

“Hello.”

You almost tripped over your own feet as you heard a feminine voice call out to you. “H-Hi,” you said as you finally came face to face with the woman who had your name. “I’m—”

“I know,” she said, before getting a weak laugh. “Me, too. I’ve heard so much about you. My dad… uh… He really, really loved you.”

“Thank you,” you said, voice a little stiff. You hadn’t done much talking the past few days, unless screaming out lyrics counted.

Yeah, it counted.

Sorta.

“Um… H-How is Peggy—I mean, your mom—doing?”

“She’s handling it about as can be expected,” she said with a smile as she glanced to where the Brit in question was. It was strange, seeing the woman that was named after you. She was older than you by a few years, and had a few gray hairs. But she looked so much like the perfect mix of Steve and Peggy… “But dad was getting up there… more so than any other man. They both knew it was coming. I just don’t know if mom will be able to hold on without him much longer.”

Great. Because that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Here, let me introduce my siblings!” She said, calling them over before you could say no.

By the time the actual service started, you’d met far more Rogerses than you had ever wanted to.

It was exhausting. They were all so… kind. Despite everything, despite the fact that you were literally their father’s ex girlfriend, despite the fact that you were the last person their father spoke to before he died, and not his wife.

“My husband, Steve, has always been what his best friend called him. A punk,” Peggy said as she stood up before everyone, letting out a weak laugh as she glanced back at the open casket. “But he was so many things. Brave. Outspoken. Generous. Stubborn…”

Your eyes stayed on her, even though you stopped hearing what she was saying. You didn’t have the energy to listen to a eulogy.

That is, until she said your name.

“Huh?” You said, suddenly on high alert. Some part of you was aware that your team was sitting in the front row, including Bucky. You’d been too busy speaking with Steve’s children to talk to them, not that you minded that. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face them.

“Would you please come up and say a few words?” Peggy asked gently, getting down and holding out her hand to you.

“I…” Fuck. You couldn’t say no. It was a god damn funeral. “Okay,” you said after a long moment, placing your hand in Peggy’s and letting her lead you up to the podium. The sea of people staring at you made your blood run cold, your hands trembling as you gripped the wood. “Um… H-Hi…” You introduced yourself, you voice cracking. “I’ve known Steve… since I was eighteen years old. And we were together for almost a decade.” You snorted, shaking your head as you glanced back at the casket, your heart stopping for a moment when your eyes rested on his face. “I know… most of you are probably wondering why the hell I’m up here. Why the hell anyone would want their husband’s ex girlfriend speaking at their funeral, but uh… Steve helped make me the person I am today.” Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, threatening to break your ribs. “He taught me when to push myself, how to trust my instincts.” Also all things that Bucky taught you. You could feel his seafoam blue gaze on you, pinning you in place. “I know it’s cheesy… But he taught me what it means to do the right thing, even when it means standing up to someone you love and telling them so. He taught me how to keep going even when my world was crumbling.” Your heart was shattering as your eyes met Bucky’s. “He taught me to chase after what I want the most in the world, and to accept nothing but the best.” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. “Steve was a bright light in the world, even when he was in his darkest moments.” You gave a watery smile, your hands clammy. “Steve was not the shield, and those of us who knew him personally know that. The shield was Steve. He made it into the symbol that it is. A symbol of what every person can be, what they should be. What we should all aspire to be.” Your throat was starting to close up. “But he was showing us that even before the serum, wasn’t he? Because it doesn’t matter how small you are, or where you come from. You can make the choice everyday to make the world a little better.” Sniffling, you swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And I know I’m rambling, but I really didn’t expect to be speaking here today, so please forgive me, but I just… I never thought he’d die like this. There were hundreds of missions where I thought… this is it. This is where I lose him. I always knew he’d fight until he couldn’t anymore. The fact that he got the honor of passing like he did… what feels like a million years old and surrounded by his loved ones in a hospital… just like any other man… I can’t think of a better happy ending for him.” You took a deep breath. “But there’s someone who should be up here more than me. Someone who knew him from the beginning. From playground to battlefield and beyond, right?”

Bucky’s entire body was trembling as he slowly got to his feet and walked up to the podium. But before you could leave, his hand slipped into yours and squeezed, a silent question being asked.

Stay?

And how could he ever think you’d leave him?

You squeezed his hand back, staying by his side as he slowly started to speak. He spoke about the first time they met, all the fights he broke up.

Until the end of the line.

You guessed it really was the end. The grand finale of a life that wasn’t always easy, but was always worth it.

Watching Steve’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a hallucination. How could it possibly be real?

The feeling that you’d gotten in the hospital was washing back over you like a tsunami. The overwhelming feeling of despair, of disbelief.

Of anger.

You wanted more time. There wasn’t ever enough time and now he was gone.

You slipped away after the funeral ended, getting into your car and just… driving. You knew you’d eventually make it back to the cabin, but you needed to roll the windows down and just feel the icy cold wind in your hair, on your skin.

Making you feel alive.

When you got back to the cabin, the sun had set, stars twinkling overhead in a brilliance you’d never see in the city.

You held your heels in your hand as you stumbled into the house, tossing them to the side as you headed for the kitchen. “FRIDAY, put on some music,” you said quietly.

“What playlist would you like?”

“Read the room, Fri,” you said simply, sighing as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She started to play music throughout the house, and you bit your lip as she started to play a blend of your favorites. Mostly Black Pumas and The Teskey Brothers. “Fri, can you turn on the fireplace?”

Warm light filled the living room and kitchen, flickering softly.

You didn’t bother changing as you collapsed onto the fur rug with just your wine and your bottle opener. “Dumb… cork…,” you huffed as you worked to get it open.

You were about halfway through the bottle when you heard a car pull up, followed by the slam of the door. Your mind was fuzzy as you watched the front door open and Bucky walk in. “Hi.”

He stopped in the entryway, still wearing the all black suit he’d donned at the funeral. “Hey,” he breathed out. He couldn’t help but snort as he saw the bottle of wine in your hands. “Yeah… It has been that kind of day, huh?”

When you held it out to him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched his pink lips wrap around the bottle and he took a swig.

Fuck, you had it so bad.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you watched him stand by the end of the sofa. “It’s been… a rough day.”

“I’ve been better,” he said simply as he took another drink. “But I know I’ll feel better once you and I are speaking again.”

Your heart squeezed inside your chest as your eyes met, your cheeks flushing. “Right… I… I think we were both… frazzled… But I’m so sorry.”

Pain and Misery by The Teskey Brothers started to play over the stereo, filling the house with soothing R&B. It was one of your favorite songs in the whole entire world.

“I've been in love, honey, you know it's true… Was since that day I first laid my eyes on you…”

“Malen’kaya,” he said as he set the bottle on the coffee table, holding out his hand to you. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Could you forgive me for how I acted?”

“Love is a crazy game, baby… It's how I feel… It makes you oh, so high, but it takes so long to heal…”

You nodded after a long moment, slipping your hand into his and squeezing as he tugged you to your feet. “I can. I do,” you said, the wine making your head fill with bubbles.

“So, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone, it's all pain and misery. Honey, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

Something inside of you clicked back into place as he pulled you close to his chest, the two of you immediately starting to sway. Falling back into step with him was as easy as breathing, you were finding.

Perhaps even easier.

“Sometimes I curse that day of when you came along… I was happy but it's been pain now for so very long… Oh, I'm begging you, honey… Please, won't you stay? 'Cause I been so lonely since you gone away…”

“I don’t like not talking to you,” he said quietly, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Feels so wrong… Like I can’t breathe.”

Funny how you’d just had almost the same thought.

“Everyday is pain… In the end, it's hard to see… Every fateful day is oh, so sad, now that I've lost the best friend that I ever had…”

He was so warm, so comforting. Like a teddy bear.

“I don’t like not talking to you either,” you admitted as you nuzzled closer to him, breathing in the musky scent of his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Can we please never do it again?”

“Honey, please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's all pain and misery…”

He grinned against your forehead, his hand moving from your hip as he slid his arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Honey, please, whoa please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

“Jamie…,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to gather the words you wanted to say.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, resting his head against yours.

“Hey, I'm begging you, honey… Whoa… I want you to love me… Yeah, I want you to love me… I need you so bad…”

“What does this mean?” You asked as the song ended and it shifted to another. “For us, I mean?” You were starting to panic, anxiety welling up in your chest and causing you to word vomit. “Because I can’t do this back and forth, I can’t. I won’t. I won’t survive it. I can’t keep pretending like we’re just friends and that the way you make me feel doesn’t make me… doesn’t make me…”

“Doesn’t make you what?” He asked quietly, not letting you move away from his secure embrace. “Please… Because I can’t keep acting as though you’re not my everything.” He held the back of your head, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “Please… Please, tell me you love me. Because I…” He rested his forehead against yours, a tear rolling down his cheek. “The love I have for you has rewritten every piece of DNA in my body,” he said. “It’s in my blood, my bones… You are written in my heart, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. And…” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And if you don’t love me the way I love you, that’s just fine. As long as I have you in my life… I’ll be whatever you need.”

“Jamie…,” you said with a weak laugh. You were openly crying, though you weren’t sure when you had started. “Oh, Jamie… Do you really think I could ever not love you?” Your nose nudged against his as you wrapped both of your arms around his neck. “If you don’t kiss me, we’re gonna have a fight.”

The smile that split open his face was blinding. The kiss he planted upon your lips was absolutely filthy. A mess of teeth and tongue and grins and giggles, a tangle of feelings pent up for so long that you were sure you’d never get them all out. You’d spend the rest of your life unraveling all the ways he made you feel, and you’d do it with a smile.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” you said as you pressed yourself against him. “I never wanna be without you ever again.”

“You never have to,” he breathed out as he nipped at your lower lip. Without further ado, he reached down and slipped his arm under your thighs. You let out a squeak as he scooped you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. “I’m gonna love you so good,” he said with a growl.

You almost hit your head on the door frame as he carried you into the guest bedroom you two were occupying, squealing as he tossed you onto the bed. “Jamie!”

“Yes, malen’kaya?” He asked as he shoved off his suit jacket, toeing off his dress shoes at the same time.

“Nothing,” you said, giggling as you started to strip down, too. “Nothing at all.”

When you two finally finished hours later, the wine had worn off, and he was asleep. You’d curled up on top of his chest, his cool vibranium hand resting on the small of your back, helping you cool off.

“Jamie?” You murmured, testing if he was asleep. When he grunted, you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his flesh hand. “I love you…”

“I love you more, baby.”

[honey-coloured-passion]

Surprise! (Sapnap x Reader)

Request: “Sapnap X Reader where he surprises the reader while she’s streaming”

Words: 1.5k

“Hello chat how are your days going? Good, bad? Finals!? Oh my gosh I hate finals dude I’m so sorry f to pay respects,” you paused to stretch and adjust your headset as you had just started your stream. “I’m kinda just bored today chat so what should we do? Mods can you all run a poll or something?” You glanced at your discord and saw messages from Sap.

“Hey angel!”

“Oh you’re streaming!”

“You look cute on stream” 

You rolled your eyes but chat caught you blushing and saw that Sapnap was viewing the stream, and immediately lost it. They’d been shipping the two of you for months, but little did they know you guys had been dating for three months, since you met up in person for the first time. It hadn’t felt like the right time to announce to the world and you’d wanted to establish your relationship privately before telling the fans, but that didn’t mean you’d had a couple slip ups leading the fans to theorize. 

This included you calling Sapnap various forms of babe, bubs, Nick, love etc. Same went for Sap who gets teased for endlessly rushing to your defense on the SMP and responding casually when you call him a pet name, almost like he does it all the time... yeah, chat was on to the two of you. 

“Shut up guys and tell me what we’re doing today! We could go grind netherite tools and chill? How does that sound?” the SMP always got a resounding yes, and just like that you were off, the SMP had won the poll anyways. 

You messaged Sap in discord, “wanna call for the stream?” and quickly he was on the call with you. 

“Hello Mr. Sapitus Napitus, how’s your day going on this fine Friday?” you laughed as you ran through the nether, having just collected enough wool and planks to make beds. “It’s going, I was bored as heck so I wound up here, what about you?” You knew the longer end to that story, his family was out and he thought editing would take longer but now he was stuck at home. “Same same, I’m chillin and got bored after scrolling on Tiktok for like two hours so now I’m here!” You moved on, blowing up the nether hunting for netherite scrap while talking with chat.

A familiar notification went off, “water check from, um ,GogySupremacy420,000, oh my god what a username. Alright everyone drink some water! This is good I haven’t drank water since like breakfast.” you heard Sap pipe up, “you’ve eaten since breakfast right?” you rolled your eyes, “nope I’ll eat after stream don’t worry Simpnap” tacking on the nickname earned a scoff from the simp himself. “Not a simp,” he answered, giving you a punch in the game making you hit him back. After a mini fight ending in you threatening to place a bed and effectively kill the both of you, you were back to mining. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go drive and grab something want me to stay on call though?” your head whipped to discord to look for another message, knowing Sap didn’t have anywhere to be tonight. But there was nothing. “Oh I don’t mind, chat and I enjoy your company!” you said with a grin. You’d made it to enchanting now, having found all the netherite you needed.

As you sat on the spider spawner you heard Sap get in the car, the familiar beep of him unlocking his car and the revving of the engine making you laugh, “you’re car is literally so old I’m surprised it starts,” you heard Sapnap scoff, “old?! don’t you dare speak to her like that, she’s beautiful,” you rolled your eyes, Callahan who must’ve been on your stream quickly piped up in the game chat “Y/n is jealousss!” now it was your turn to be offended, “you think I’d be jealous of a bucket of rusty bolts and oil? No chance,” you laughed, checking chat as they were spamming JealousChamp. “Whatever you say ba- Y/n,” Sapnap played it off with a cough and you quickly changed the subject to how much XP you would need for all your tools. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go on deafen real quick be back soon!” Sap’s voice flooded your mic, he must’ve brough the mic close to his mouth because his smooth and deep voice curled around the mic perfectly, sending shivers down your spine as his warm tone filled your headphones. “B-bye” you choked out, pretending to adjust your headset as you continued killing mobs. “So chat, got any questions to pass this alone time?” you watched the chat speed up, hoping your mods would filter out poor questions. “Favorite. color? Easy who knows? Yup! You guys know me too well. Ooh favorite fast food place? This is hard cuz I don’t wanna say something you all don’t know but I can tell you guys my McDonalds order because it’s immaculate. Do I know Sapnap’s order? This is a good test you guys, I’m pretty sure it’s like an ungodly amount of spicy McChickens and a Dr. Pepper but I swear he changes it like every day.” you laughed, reading out other people’s orders then moved to debating if the icecream machine is actually broken or if the workers are just lazy. They’re lazy, confirmed by workers in chat apparently. 

“I’m back but I have to go in like five minutes, did you miss me?” Sap’s voice flooded your headphones again. As you adjusted his volume you teased, “hmm nope!” to which he began pouting making you laugh at his “baby rage”. Just as you were finishing with enchants on your axe he had to go. “Don’t miss me too much I’ll talk to you later, chat behave yourself I know you all will miss me but just leave y/n open in a muted tab,” he teased making you roll your eyes, “whatever we’re gonna have a super secret conversation after you’re gone about how we only let you on the stream out of pity right chat?” you couldn’t stop smiling and laughing through the teasing. “Okay okay, I actually gotta go, see you soon,” you bid Sapnap farewell and returned to joking with chat, turning on media share to pass some time as you reacted to animatics, hilarious compilations, and the occasional y/n x sapnap video making chat light up as you laughed through the videos. 

As you watched the videos and killed cave spiders you got a text from Sapnap. 

You still streaming?

Yup! Where’d you end up going? you replied.

Open your door and find out

Your breath hitched. “One- one minute chat,” you pulled your headset off and heard a small rustling in your hallway. As soon as you tabbed out of the game you stood up, rushing off camera to fling your door open and,

There he was. His smile was infectious and you couldn’t help yourself from screaming and running into his open arms. As he held you, rocking back and forth, you heard him mumbled. “I missed you”  Into your ear while you clung to him. “I missed you more,” you whispered back, Finally, you released him enough to peck his lips, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “I got food cuz you said you didn’t eat and I figured if I had time I wanted to spend it with you!” your heart practically melted, taking a bag of food in one hand and holding Sapnap’s hand with your other you realized you forgot to mute or end stream.

“Um, so I’m still streaming... what do we do?” you glanced up nervously but Sapnap just started laughing, “oh my god I guess I can say hi so chat doesn’t lose it’s mind,” you swallowed nervously, glancing down at your phone you had been tagged in endless clips of you running off camera then screaming about 15 seconds later. “Yeah better give them an answer,” you giggled.

Rushing back to your setup you saw chat blowing up as you put your headset back on. “Heyyy guys! So yeah, um I guess I can just show you that, we have a special guest!” You gestured to Sapnap to come into frame, pulling up a chair as he sat down next to you. “Yeah I gave y/n a visit cuz I was bored. Hi chat, hello, hello! You guys are going really fast dang,” Sapnap gripped your hand under the table, you squeezed back, leaning into his embrace. “So um, I think Sap and I are gonna hangout, right?” you glanced at him and he nodded, he really hadn’t stopped smiling since he got to your place. “Yup! Maybe if there’s time we’ll go live again I’m not sure! Kinda spur of the moment yeah?” you finished your thought. Saying goodbye to chat you ended stream just a few minutes later.

“We’ve really gotta tell people soon, I wanna be able to hold your hand on camera not just off,” Sapnap said between bites of food. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay right?” You had always been nervous about stans hating you or people trying to get in between your relationship. “As long as I’ve got you I’m more than fine, I’m- I don’t know I guess I’m pogchamp,” you shook your head, “god you are such a dork,” Sapnap scrunched his nose with a laugh, “I’m your dork though so I’m so special!” and you couldn’t agree more. <3

[probsjosh]

Just a Bit More

Three times you were out here flirting with Sapnap on stream and the fourth time when ya'll straight up confessed to eachother

AKA Flirtationship but with a lot of Mutual Pining

Sapnap × GN!Reader

No warning! All fluff :)

@svgarbees I love your writing challenge bro <3

-----------

The first time Sapnap had met you it was very briefly, as George had been placed on your team for MCC and Sapnap had come into the discord call to taunt him just before the games began. 

"Well if it isn't Team Bottoms."

The second the taunt was out in the open air, a roar of protests came from George and Antfrost. BadBoyHalo sat in some confusion, "Bottoms? Bottom of what?" was all he asked, and after he didn't receive an answer, he shrugged it off and quickly muted to talk to his chat. You, however, were practically wheezing, desperately trying to get air into your lungs as you laughed at Saps opening line, causing the other three to pause their bickering long enough to ask if you were alright. "I'm fuckin' great- I don't know who you are dude, but I think I already love you." 

Sapnap laughed lightly as his face turned a light shade of pink, "If you liked that one so much I have a lot more where that came fro—" He was cut off mid-sentence as he was kicked from the call back to his own teams vc. 

"We are not 'Team Bottoms'," George scoffed out, as the MCC timer got to zero.

"George. We totally fuckin are," You laughed out as everyone rushed inside.

"Language!" 

~

The second time had been when George invited you to play Proximity Chat Among Us on stream after realizing they didn't have 10 people to play a full game. You two had actually hit it off really well during MCC and stayed in contact afterwards, but this was the first time he had invited you to play anything with his group of friends.

After happily agreeing, you received the game code and joined the vc, only to be greeted with George desperately trying to tell everyone to shut up for just one second and Sapnap loudly arguing that George wasn't the boss of him. It was only after you'd joined the game and let out a soft, "Hello," did he shut up.

"Oh-" Was all Sap could get out before George cut him off, "Yeah 'oh', that's what I was trying to tell you. Everyone this is y/n, y/n this is everyone," 

There was a chorus of greetings as everyone welcomed you to the soon to be shitshow. The smile on your face didn't fade once the entire time, being able to properly introduce yourself and crack jokes with everyone once you were in game. The one person you weren't surprised to see you were getting along with amazingly was with Sapnap, immediately remembering him from your first unofficial meeting.

"So you think I'm a bottom Sapnap?" you questioned as you caught him in a room by himself. "I- uh- why? Are-are you a bottom?" He asked, a hesitant grin on his face, he wasn't sure what boundaries he was pushing, but he was certain he was toeing the line. Luckily for him, you let out a laugh before you teased him, "Wouldn't you like to know." Suddenly feeling more confident in himself he hummed before teasing right back, "I mean, with your consent, I would." 

Your laugh sounded out as you tried and failed to stutter out a response when someone walked into the room and yelled, "George! Sapnap is flirting with your friend!" They ran away yelling for George as Sapnap laughed and ran away,  chasing after them, "Don't snitch on me you bitch!" 

You stood there in the middle of the room giggling as Sapnap quickly ran back into the room, "If George asks, I'm totally telling him you hit on me first." 

"Okay sure, Mr. I'd Like To Find Out If You're a Bottom," You both laughed as a body was reported and you were thrown into a meeting.

From that moment it had become a running bit for you two to needlessly flirt with eachother at any given moment, and by the end of the stream every chat was filled with debates on what the ship name should be. 

After saying your goodbyes and leaving for the night, you sat in your chair thinking about Sapnap, and trying to ignore the butterflies in your tummy as you thought about every exchange you'd had with him that night. 

~

The third time had been the first time you logged on to the Dream SMP after George had very sweetly asked Dream to whitelist you, because he missed playing the Craft with someone he now considered a close friend to him. 

At first it was just George and yourself sitting in a call as he gave you a very messy tour of the world that consisted of a very bad history lessons of the lore. "I'm not very involved in the storyline so I don't really know what happened," George explains as he leads you over to the now crater of L'Manberg, "But I do know that, canonically, Dream is crazy." 

The familiar sound of someone joining the call sounded out, followed by a very familiar voice, "George, Dream is crazy both in game and out, you give him too much credit." 

There was soft laughter before you spoke, "Sapitus Napitus!" the happiness in your voice evident, and George chuckled, "What? You miss your boyfriend?" Despite how flustered you'd gotten you managed to bite back, "What? Jealous I got a boyfriend before you did, Georgie?" 

Sapnap joined in as well, "Yeah Georgie, at least we have a significant other for Valentines day. Not our fault you broke my boy Dreams heart by turning him down." 

We all laughed at that as Sapnap joined the game as well as the tour. At first, it had seemed like you and Sap had fallen back into your endless flirting to annoy George but after a while it just became a casual thing between the two of you, compliments and innuendos being tossed between the two of you.

All three of you had actually become really comfortable with one another over the course of the accidental five hour stream. So comfortable in fact that before you left to end your stream George sent you off with a final tease, "Of God, I'm never gonna hear the end of this from either of you am I?" You and Sapnap glanced at each other in game before turning to George, "What do you mean, Gogy?" Sapnap asked carefully, as he slowly scrolled through his hotbar to pull out his sword. George, oblivious to this, continued, "I mean you two blabber on and on about each other to me all the time, why don't you two just talk about how much you like each other to each o–" George cut himself off with a scream as Sapnap went after him with the intent of murder. 

Before you could fully process the words that had come out of George's mouth, you phone pinged, alerting you that you needed to end stream. "I'm sorry guys, I gotta go, I have something I need to do." Both boys stopped in their tracks to give you a proper goodbye, "Bye, message me when you're free again," George said innocently as he crouch walked away from where Sapnap stood turned towards your character. "Or you could message me–" Sap said, the cheeky smile on his face falling as George teased him again, "Yeah you wish, Snapchat." 

And with that Sapnap returned to his assassination attempt as George screamed for his life. You laughed before mumbling a goodbye and leaving both the game and the call.

After ending stream you walked over to your bed before falling face first into the mattress and screaming. 

George really had to out you like that huh?

~

The fourth time was just a couple days after the third. You had been streaming for a little bit, your first grind session on the SMP to get yourself started, when George entered your voice channel and startled the hell out of you. 

"HI y/n!" he greeted innocently as you yelped, hitting your desk and nearly spilling your water everywhere. "George! Dude, you have to stop scaring me like that," you tried to scold him but your laugh broke your angry facade. "Sorry, sorry, I hadn't meant to scare you- hey is Sapnap online right now?" 

"Um," you glanced over at your chat briefly before pressing tab, "Yeah, he's online, why?" You didn't receive an answer as George disconnected from the call abruptly. "Wow okay, rude." was all you commented before returning to entertaining your chat as you mined away. 

A couple minutes later you were startled yet again as George reconnected, immediately letting out a loud yelp, as a skeleton shot you simultaneously. "George!" you panicked as you swiped your sword at the skeleton, going down to threw hearts before finally killing it. "I'm sorry! I don't mean to scare you, I just wanted to tell you that Sa–" He disconnected again mid-sentence, this time your curiosity was peaked. 

"If George reconnects and scares me one more time, I'm flying to his country to kick his ass." You laughed as your chat began speculating what he wanted to tell you, and clipping your scared reaction.

It was peaceful for a while, you had been caving with not trouble, but eventually you ran out of food and needed to resurface. Unfortunately for you, a loud ping from Discord sounded out, distracting you long enough for a creeper to sneak up behind you and kill you before you had a chance to react. "George I'm buying a plane ticket to go kick your ass, I swear to..." a soft laugh makes you trail off. "Well, I'm not George, but I'd love to see you kick his ass," Sapnaps voice rang out and you slapped a hand over your mouth. 

"Fuck, sorry, sorry Sap, George has just been coming in and out of the vc and scaring me" You clicked respawn and began running back to your things. "Yeah, sorry about that, I kept pulling him out of there because he's trying to embarrass me." 

"Embarrass you? How?" You found the cave you had gone down and made your way to your things. 

"Well, um, he- where are you? On the server I mean." It was a bit odd to you that he was stuttering this much, he was usually very confident in himself, but you made no comment on it. 

"I'm in a cave getting my things back, I'll put my cords in chat, I'm not far from my house," You gathered your things before quickly typing into chat, and running to the mouth of the cave to get back home.

There's a beat of comfortable silence as you emerge seeing Sapnap running towards you in the distance. 

"Hi, hello!" You crouched at him once he'd gotten close enough. He giggled and answered back, "Hi," as he crouched in return. 

"So why's George trying to embarrass you?" you asked making your way back to your house, Sapnap following close behind. "He keeps saying some bullshit that I don't believe, so I've come to just- just ask you." 

Your stomach began to fill with butterflies, but you shot down your hopes and tried to keep a level voice, "Oh? What have you come to ask me, Mr. Sapnap?" You opened the door to your house and entered to turned around to face him once more.

He crouched his character and took a breath, "George has this idea that when we- when we flirt, it's not just a bit. And, I just wanted to ask you," he comes closer a bit, as your air catches in your throat, "is it just- do you see it as just a bit?"

'Because I don't,' the words die on his tongue, not wanting to sway your next words.

You sat for a second, thoughts going a million miles a minute as you finally find the will to say, "Sap, I–" 

"Its okay if you do, I mean yeah, like if thats how you see it then that's how I see it too, yknow? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything and the last thing I want to do is ruin the friendship we just started like a week ago, and I–" His nervous ramblings are cut short when you hit his character, a smile finding its way onto your face. 

"Sap, we really need to start letting people finish their fuckin sentences," you laugh, your nerves building again but you decide to say fuck it and push through before you chicken out, "I was going to say… I don't know if it's just a bit or not but, if you're okay with it… I wouldn't mind taking the flirting a bit more seriously?" A nervous smile settled on your features, the butterflies in your stomach going wild, as you waited for his answer. 

Another beat of silence as Sapnap gathered his scattered briancells to finally form a coherent thought. "I- yeah, yeah, I'd love to," a relieved laugh turns into a genuine one after he realizes, "Oh my god, George was right." 

You grin, nerves now mostly gone, "Motherfucker really was tired of our bullshit, huh?" Easy laughter flowed between you two before another Discord ping rung out.

George had joined the call, presumably to gloat about being right, but instead: "Hey uh, y/n? You do realize you're still streaming, right?"

[moldisgoodforyou]

without you by my side

i thought i posted this already APOLOGIES !!! 

wordcount: 2.4k

_____

Sophie had barely talked to Rafe in the first two weeks she was in Spain, suddenly being consumed with a week-long orientation and then going straight into her internship, juggling her Spanish lessons and trying to just get by in an unfamiliar city. She’d texted him a few updates here and there, and had FaceTimed him briefly in her first week, but most of her spare time was spent getting to know her roommates and checking off random errands.

The time difference made things extra tricky, but Rafe made it a priority to talk with her, no matter where he was. When they finally got a chance to talk, she called him, grinning when the call connected. “Hi!”

He grinned to himself too, feeling warm just from the sound of her voice. “Hi, you. It’s good to hear from you.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be so busy.” She worried her lip between her teeth and he shook his head quickly, although she couldn’t see him. “It’s alright, I knew you had things to do. Don’t stress about it. I want to hear about Barcelona, tell me what you’ve done!”

Sophie beamed and launched into an excited description of everything - her students in her classes, her new coworkers, how she got assigned to a cool project and how she got drunk on a two dollar bottle of wine that was ‘the best she’d ever had.’ Once she told him everything, she paused, letting silence fill the air.

“That sounds awesome, Soph.” He smiled, then frowned hearing her pause. “All good?”

“Yeah, just. I wish you were here. Um, I wear one of the shirts you let me take to bed, and I just realized it doesn’t really smell like you anymore. Washed it too soon, I think.”

Rafe let out a small sigh and clutched his phone a little tighter. “I can send you another one.” His voice had a teasing lilt to it, but he was dead serious.

“No, I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” She spoke quickly and he could distantly hear a few sniffles, then when she brought her phone back to her ear, voice nearly cracking. “I’m okay.”

“Wait, are you crying? Sophie...” He trailed off and she could hear the frown in his voice. He closed his office door so he could talk to her more freely, without having to keep his voice so quiet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just miss you a lot more than I thought I would.”

He immediately pressed the button to facetime her, smiling when she picked up, then instantly dropping it once he saw her teary cheeks. “I can change my flight and come visit sooner. I’ll do it, angel, you know I will.”

She smiled a little at the pet name, swiping her sleeve over her cheeks. “I know, but it’s fine. Once I get into a routine I’ll be okay, everything’s just a little jarring.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I thought I knew Spanish and turns out all I can really manage is where’s the bathroom and hello. Everyone speaks so quickly, I feel like an idiot.”

He grinned. “You’re not an idiot, baby, you’ve been practicing for this for months. Just don’t go around telling anyone else te amo.”

She sniffled a little as she laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Hey, how’s home? Have you gone surfing or something yet? Any big parties?”

He shrugged. “It’s alright. I think there’s a party this weekend, but.”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. Feels kind of strange without you by my side.”

“Aw, Rafe, you miss me.” She teased, fully aware she was in no position to poke fun, as she’d just cried over missing him two seconds ago.

He paused and glanced away for a second, not wanting to guilt trip her in the slightest. He just wanted to be sure she enjoyed her trip without having to worry about him. “You know I do.”

“I miss you too.” Her face dropped a little and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop herself from crying again.

“I want you to have fun though, okay? I’m only a call away, and I’ll see you soon enough. Three months will fly by. Easy.” He told her, almost trying to convince himself. Just the last two weeks alone had dragged by for him, especially with how quickly he’d had to leave all his friends in Columbus once the frat house closed for the summer.

“Two months and two weeks,” she corrected. “We’ve made it half a month already.”

He laughed and flipped the camera briefly to show his calendar pinned up behind his desk, little numbers scribbled onto each square. “I know, I’ve been counting down the days.”

“That’s sweet.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, where’s your ring?”

Sophie instantly blushed and grabbed her backpack, fumbling through it until she found the ring box lying haphazardly at the bottom (and brushed off a few crumbs before showing him). “Here! It’s right here, I have it, promise.” She quickly flipped open the box and slid it on her finger to show him.

“Do you not like it? I should have asked you before, I -”

“No! I love it, no, it’s not that.” She reassured him quickly. “I’m just really worried I’m going to lose it, like on the metro or walking to work, and I can’t have that happen. So I carry the box with me.”

“Oh.” Rafe sat back in his chair, thinking. “How about I get you a chain?”

“A chain?”

“Yeah. You can wear the ring on the chain, like a necklace, when you’re not wearing it on your finger. And when I come visit, we can take it in to Cartier and get it resized, if you need to.”

“No, it fits perfectly, I’m just nervous.” She smiled. “A chain sounds like a good solution.”

He nodded and wrote himself a reminder to order one and have it shipped to her apartment in Spain the second they were off the call. “You got it.” At a knocking on his door, he hesitated before glancing over for the source. “Hold on one second, okay?”

“Okay.”

Rafe stood and opened the door, letting his dad in. Ward strode in and dropped a stack of papers on Rafe’s desk, regarding him with annoyance. “You need to go to the printing company right now and get these flyers fixed. Half of them have the ink fucked up and the phone number’s wrong on all of them.”

“You said I got a half hour lunch break.” Rafe replied evenly, not glancing at the papers - that were the secretary’s responsibility, not his.

“You can get a lunch break when you pay closer attention to the details.” Ward fished his card out of his wallet and slapped it on top of the stack. “Grab me lunch while you’re out. Don’t be long.” He turned to leave, but paused upon seeing Sophie waiting on the facetime call, Rafe’s phone on the desk. “Who is that?”

She froze, hair hiding her face a little, and wasn’t sure if she should hang up or not. Rafe made the first move and flipped the screen over so his phone was facedown on the desk. “I was talking to Sophie. Remember, I told you she’s in Spain, so the time difference -”

“I don’t care.” Ward interrupted. “Don’t let some girl distract you from work.” (Rafe swore he hadn’t acknowledged that Sophie was his girlfriend once.) He left abruptly and kicked out the door stopper as he went, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Rafe winced and took a breath before flipping the phone back over. He looked defeated, “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“S’alright.” Sophie gave him a small smile but her heart was racing, embarrassed about how easily Ward was able to dismiss her. “Call me later, if you want? I’m staying in tonight.”

He glanced at the door again and cocked his head a little to catch the sounds out on the hallway, just giving her a nod and a forced smile before ending the call.

___

Rafe only had a week back in Columbus before he had to pack up and head back to the Outer Banks for one last summer. He had resigned himself to the fact he’d be going home, but was mainly fine with it until he learned Sophie wouldn’t be coming home too. Ever since then, he’d been dreading it - the beach days, country club and even his friends at home weren’t worth the amount of time he’d have to spend with his dad at work.

His dad had been preparing him over the last few years to take a high position in the company, and Rafe had never protested it, just figuring he wasn’t meant for anything else. It wasn’t until Sophie sent him a few links for internships in downtown Columbus that he began to consider that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of more. He ended up applying to five internships in whole, not sure if he could handle too many rejections. Other kids in his major already had at least one, sometimes two internships under their belt, and Rafe’s resume with work at his dad’s company and a couple leadership positions in his frat didn’t exactly measure up.

He was rejected almost immediately from a couple internships, but interviewed for the three others based on a few strong recommendations from his professors. No matter what, he had to return to the Outer Banks and get some extra clothes and furniture to haul back with him for his senior house, so he settled on going back for a little while he waited to hear back from the other companies.

Later that night, he called her back after getting berated by his dad at work and taking the blame for two other interns’ mistakes. It was late, nearly one am for her on a Tuesday, but she picked up anyways, anticipating the call. “H’lo?” Sophie mumbled into the phone, half-asleep. 

“I can’t deal with this anymore. I’m sick of it.” He confessed immediately and she sat up in bed, concerned. “What? What’s wrong, baby?” 

“It’s my dad, I swear to fucking god. I have to get this internship, Soph, it’s the one excuse he’ll take for me not working for him.” Rafe huffed, trying his best to calm himself down, shaky fingers pressing the Facetime button. 

She picked up right away, the lag in wifi barely interrupting their call. “Breathe, Rafe.” 

He nodded quickly, taking a few shallow breaths, then frowned as he saw the pillow marks pressed into her cheek. “Fuck, did I wake you up? This fucking time zone shit -” He cut himself off, knowing he was just angry with his dad, not her. 

Sophie shook her head. “No, um, was just scrolling through social media and laying down.” 

It was a blatant lie, but Rafe accepted it anyways. “You need to sleep earlier.” 

She shrugged, not wanting to share that she couldn’t sleep that well without him sometimes. “I’m fine. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“It’s just.” He paused and propped the phone up, then pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “He puts so much pressure on me, all the time. I’m supposed to take over this company and I don’t even know if that’s what I want to do, I’m a business major just because he told me that’d be a good idea, it’s just -” Rafe took a breath, trying not to get himself more worked up. “It’s a lot.” 

Sophie frowned, catching herself reaching toward the screen for a moment in an attempt to comfort him. “You’ll get the internship in Columbus, I know you will.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do know that. You need to think more highly of yourself, Rafe.” 

He sighed, chewing on his bottom lip. “Kinda hard when no one else is thinking highly of me.” 

“Rafe.” She caught his attention with a stern tone, frowning. “That’s not true, not in the slightest.” 

“A little bit.” 

“You’re a loyal friend, you’re generous, you’re smart. I know I can always count on you. You just need to be nicer to yourself.” Sophie encouraged, smiling when he gave her the tiniest hint of a shy smile. 

“You don’t need to say all that.” He countered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I know. But I mean all of it.” She got up from her bed, taking the phone with her. “Hey, go look outside.” 

“Why?” 

“Just go look outside.” 

He furrowed his brow but followed along, bringing his phone to his bedroom window and walking out to his balcony. “What am I supposed to be seeing?” 

“You see the moon?” 

“Yeah.” 

She flipped her camera briefly, showing the glow of the moon in the sky over the city. “It’s the same moon, okay? We’re seeing the exact same thing.” 

“Okay...” He trailed off, confused. 

“It’s almost like I’m there with you.” She paused. “Kind of. We’re not that far apart.” 

“Four thousand miles.” He argued, getting more miserable. “God, I miss you.” 

Sophie nodded with a frown, biting the inside of her cheek. “I know. I miss you too, baby. I’m sorry your dad is being so shitty.” 

“He’ll hear you.” Rafe half-teased, glancing around just to make sure he wasn’t down below on the deck or nearby. 

Her jaw set, stubborn. “Good. When do you hear back about the internship?” 

“In a couple days, probably. I had the final interview yesterday and they’ll give me a few weeks’ notice before I need to move back.” He opened his mouth, about to add another self-deprecating comment, but stopped himself. “It went okay.” 

“I’m sure you were fantastic. Model candidate.” She grinned and he just ached for her even more. “It’s late for you, isn’t it.” 

“Um...a little. But I can keep talking if you want. Any time.” She promised, hiding a yawn behind her hand. 

He shook his head, smiling. “Go back to bed, angel. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“Don’t be, I’m glad I got to talk with you again.” Sophie paused. “It’ll be okay, Rafe. I know it.” 

“Yeah.” He agreed just to appease her. The last thing he wanted her to be doing when she was in Barcelona was worrying about him. “Love you. Sweet dreams, Soph.” 

“Love you too.” 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal

[phykios]

honesty and promise me part 6 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Ah, the age old question: what to get for the guy who has everything and also when you’re trying make up for the fact that you actually missed his birthday entirely while spending as little money as possible?

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Percy asks as they wait their turn to disembark. “I haven’t been to Staten Island in ages.”

Annabeth has never been at all. She knows there’s a handful of Greek revival buildings in the Historic District, but she’s never had a car to get there, or the stomach to get on the ferry. Percy had practically climbed onto the bow, his own personal reenactment of Titanic, arms thrown out to the wind, while Annabeth attempted to keep her breakfast down.

Having spectacularly flamed out last week in Philadelphia, she can’t let Percy’s birthday go without some sort of commemoration. The Staten Island Ferry is just part one. “All in due time,” she says, checking her phone for directions. They still have a bus they need to board, and Annabeth is getting sweaty in her leather jacket. Thank God Percy volunteered to carry the backpack with all their gear; otherwise, when this jacket comes off, it’s going to smell worse than his tights at the end of a long day.

Like a magnet, his gaze is glued to the strips of the bay he can spot through the bus windows, his head resting on his chin, a soft, serene smile lifting his lips. All the tightness, all the stress he’s held in his shoulders the last few times she’s seen him, it melts away at the sharp, salty tang of rust and sea air which suffuses every corner. She doesn’t even mind that he isn’t looking at her. 

Hand in hand, finally, they get off the bus, and walk to the overlook. Slinging the backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down at his feet, eyes fixed on the strip of shoreline which can be seen, even all the way over here. “What is that?” he breathes, shielding his eyes against the glint of the sun on the water.

“That,” says Annabeth, “is the Staten Island ship graveyard.”

Still stewing in her guilt over how she missed his birthday--despite the fact that he didn’t even tell her--Annabeth decided to swallow her pride and ask for help. It took an inordinate number of coffee orders and one instance of her actually getting down on her knees and begging, pleading to their long friendship together and swearing that Annabeth would never use this information for evil, but she had finally wheedled the secret out of Thalia: Percy’s greatest love, after the ballet, was sailing. Ship construction, naval battles, maritime history, they were, according to Thalia, the only things which could entice Percy to actually set down the tights and “get some frickin’ sunshine for once in his life.” Annabeth hadn’t believed her, until Thalia had dug up an old photo which had never been posted to his socials--and Annabeth had certainly scoured them for long enough, she would have recognized it had she seen it before--of Percy, on a glittering, jewel-like sea, a rope wrapped around his fist as he leaned over the side of a sailboat, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide in a graceless, unrestrained joy. 

“Back in the eighties, there used to be over four hundred ships down there,” Annabeth says, coming up beside him. “A lot of it’s been scrapped or sold, but there are still maybe a hundred or so boats, including the USS PC-1264, one of the--”

“One of the two predominantly African American crewed Navy ships from World War II,” he interrupts, eyes light. “No way!”

“Yes way,” Annabeth grins, unzipping her jacket. The midday sun beats down on them, the air sticky and heavy, and she needs this thing off, pronto. “And, there’s a ship that was supposedly the command post for the General Slocum disaster.” Not that she really knows what that is.

He whirls around. “The Abram S. Hewitt is there? Holy sh--”

His jaw drops. His eyes bug out. 

Part two of his present was the ship graveyard. Part three is the outfit.

Annabeth, one hand on her hip, slings her jacket over her shoulder with the other, the leather hot against her bare skin. She has chosen to forgo a shirt entirely, wearing nothing but her nicest pair of black jeans with the thick suspenders and a shiny, red bra. And yes, she had Thalia touch up her hair, five inches of curls lopped off on one side, undercut sharp and severe. 

“I thought we could have a picnic here,” she says, a smile curling her lips without her permission. “Then, if you want, we could do some light trespassing? See the ships up close?”

Percy swallows. He breathes in through his nose, shuddering. “Sure,” he whispers, hoarse. “Sounds good.”

Dropping to the ground like a rock, studiously not checking her out, Percy unpacks their picnic, laying out the blanket, something blue, old, but soft Annabeth had knitted in a fit of pre-finals’ anxiety in college. Annabeth had hinted the night before that he should make them some food, as no one could make a grilled cheese like Percy, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to buy them some prepackaged, tasteless garbage. 

Percy’s sandwiches, just like the man himself, are stacked: thick, sourdough slices (which she suspects he made himself), bacon, turkey, apple, tomato, lettuce, avocado, mayo for her but none for him. She’d always been under the impression that dancers needed to watch what they ate, endlessly in pursuit of some unattainable ideal of beauty. Nope. Percy eats everything and anything he can get his hands on, high carb and high protein and high everything else. It makes sense, she guesses, for someone who basically has to bench their own body weight daily. Every inch of him is tailored for power and velocity, to propel him out of the grasp of gravity--rabbit food just isn’t going to cut it here. 

Munching down, he maneuvers himself into a number of splits and stretches, unable to give up his routine for a single day. “When I was probably thirteen or fourteen,” he says, halfway through a tirade of reminiscence, “my dad took me and Triton and Kym to Cyprus, for some family bonding time.” He rolls his eyes. “You can probably imagine how well that went. Most of that trip was… well, Cyprus was definitely the best part. We went to Kyrenia Castle, which has this amazing museum that holds one of the oldest known ships in the world. Like, this thing was operational during the lifetime of Alexander the Great, and it sank about a mile away from the harbor.” He takes a heroic bite, chewing with his lips firmly shut.

“Cool.”

He swallows. “Very cool. I love really old ships, but you can imagine how few of those are still left, and not just because we haven’t found them.”

Annabeth feels her neck heating up, despite the shade they sit in. “Well, I hope these ones are old enough for you.”

“Oh, these are incredible--don’t get me wrong! I had no idea there was anything like this so close to home. Who needs Cyprus when you have Staten Island?” He grins, placing his sandwich down, throwing his arms in a stretch.

“I know it isn’t Tokyo or Moscow or anything…” she trails off, self-conscious even as she doesn’t actually ask the question that’s on her mind. 

Shamefully, she has found that she still thinks about what Will had said at his apartment over a month ago at this point: Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous. But if she actually asks, it will make her look like some totally jealous girlfriend or something, like she honestly cares about Percy’s past sexual conquests.

She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. 

He’s just led a really interesting life, and she wishes she could relate. That’s all. 

“It’s not,” he agrees, bending his back with an audible pop. “It’s better.” 

“Really? A little ship graveyard is better than the sites of Tokyo?”

“I didn’t see any sites in Tokyo,” he said. “Mostly just Mittie’s hotel room.”

“Mittie?”

Percy looks at his sandwich, suddenly very interested in the crust. 

“She’s someone important, then?” 

Silence. 

Annabeth laughs to break the tension. “Okay, I'll bite--who’s Mittie? Another model?” 

Taking a small bite of sandwich, he chews, methodical and deliberate. He swallows, clearing his throat. “Margherita Savoy.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Who?”

“Princess Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia.” 

Her mouth drops open a little. “A princess?”

Percy shrugs. “Technically. The throne of Sardinia doesn’t exist anymore, obviously, but she’s big into the money and the titles and stuff.”

A princess. A fucking princess. “But she lets you call her Mittie.”

He looks a little constipated. “She didn’t… until she took me to Tokyo.” 

“Oh,” she says. Because what else is there to say? She’s certainly no princess. 

“She was nice,” Percy says, softly. “You know, eventually. Once we got to know each other.”

Her phone is hot in her pocket, like it’s preemptively searching Google for pictures of Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia, downloading them all so Annabeth can scribble all over her face like a bad high school movie. “A pretender?” She scoffs, exaggeratedly, her fists tight against the grass. “Talk to me when you get a real princess.” 

His ears go red. “Um…” 

No way. “No fucking way.”

“Look, Eugenie was just kinda pissed when Triton broke up with her, and so she just thought that we’d have some fun.” 

“Oh my god.” She says, looking at him in something like horror. And telling herself at least it wasn’t her distant cousin Madeleine. 

“It was only for like a week or two,” Percy protests. “We went to a club in Berlin she knew Triton liked to go to so he would see us and get annoyed.” 

“A princess dated you because she was pissed at your brother?”

“Only twice,” he says, casual, like any of this is normal and not absolutely insane. “Eleonore is one of Kym’s friends. And she’s technically, like, an archduchess, not a princess. But I don’t know. A couple of his other girlfriends wanted to get back at him, and I was in Europe and available, so we just…” He trails off. She can hear the ellipsis, hanging hot and heavy over them, each dot dropping like a stone. What is this, fucking Mamma Mia? 

“When was the last time this happened?” she asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He rubs a hand over his mouth, gaze unfocused as he thinks. “Um… not since the week after Frank left, I think. Mittie wanted to go to Bora Bora but she didn’t want to go alone, you know?” 

“No, I meant,” she pushes through as her stomach flutters, tight and uncomfortable, “girls using you to get back at your brother.” 

His face falls, just a bit. “Oh. Last year, I guess.”

“Who was she?” And where is she so Annabeth can punt her off a building?

“Calypso Atlas.” He sighs, wistful, with more reverence than he had given any of the princesses, and Annabeth’s stomach flops, different from the flutter. Painful this time. “She actually liked me.” 

“Everyone likes you,” she says, faintly. Maybe wearing the leather jacket is giving her heatstroke.

“You know, they really don’t. Not how it counts, anyway.” He picks at a blade of grass, rubbing it between his fingers. “Most of the girls who wanted to use me to get back at Triton only did it because they knew how much he liked to bitch about me--the ‘half-breed bastard.’” He rolls his eyes, huffs a laugh. “And even Kym’s friends didn’t actually like me. Like, yeah, they’d fly me all over with them, but they didn’t want to be seen with me. Mittie and I were on and off for years, and she gets photographed constantly. I’m not in any of them.”

Annabeth thinks she might actually be sick. 

But he doesn’t stop. “It wasn’t so bad when they went around saying that I was a dancer with the Paris Opera, because I was, and I was proud of it. But it wasn’t… I don’t know. It wasn’t like with Frank, whose family does have a ton of money, but who only ever dated me because he liked me.” He picks another blade of grass, tearing it between his fingers. “Calypso, though. She was different.” And he smiles, a little.

“How?”

That smile grows wider. “She just called me one day, out of the blue, and very publicly asked me to be her date to Milan Fashion Week after she and Triton broke up and he immediately turned around and got engaged. She was super up front about it, didn’t try to sleep with me or anything, even though I know she was friends with some people and probably heard about my various talents.” 

She knows exactly which talents he means. He winks at Annabeth, ironic and self-conscious, and she forces out a little laugh, as though the idea of him going down on someone else is charming. 

“But then we actually had a good time together, and a few weeks later, she called me up again, and again, and again, until eventually she introduced me to her father--which was a hell of an experience, let me tell you. The Atlas family puts the Olympianides family to shame as far as dysfunction goes. But it was nice, in its own way; if I’d ever asked Mittie to introduce me to her dad, she’d have laughed in my face.” 

“Sounds like you were pretty serious,” Annabeth manages.

“That was the problem.” He looks away, towards the sea. Always towards the sea. “She wanted to leave Paris, travel the world. And she wanted me to go with her.” 

“To leave the Paris Opera?”

“To leave ballet entirely. I just…” He holds the silence for a moment, lost in the fog of reminiscence, the mist of possible futures long since dissipated. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. So, in March, she went to Dubai, and I started making calls back to New York.”

“You broke up with her this year?”

“She broke up with me,” he clarifies, turning back to her. “It was all very romantic. I always left my comp at the box office for her. She didn’t come to my show, but she showed up at the stage door the day before she was set to leave, telling me that she had an extra ticket with my name on it. I turned her down.” And then he looks her in the eye as he says, “I don’t regret it at all.” 

She swallows, her face flushing, tongue numb as she searches desperately for something to say to that. “Atlas, you said her family was? It sounds familiar.” 

“Oh, you’re probably thinking of Zoe Atlas,” Percy says, easing off for the moment. “You probably know about her because she and Thalia were archenemies in boarding school. Or maybe girlfriends? I have yet to get a straight answer.” Annabeth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. Thalia, in boarding school? What? “But I like Zoe. She’s an activist, and absolutely hates her father. Like I said, there’s a lot of dysfunction. And she came to my first show way back when, and she wasn’t even weird when I dated her sister when we ran into each other in Paris. So that was nice.” 

“She went to your first show?” What in God’s name is up with these one-percenter families? It’s like they all overlap in one big incestuous slurry. And as the daughter of the Chases and the Pallases, she tries not to think where she might fit into that. 

“Thalia brought her. Her first not-date. It was Thalia’s first ballet ever, too. It… it meant a lot.”

“What show was it?”

He smiles, wistful. “The Nutcracker. I was one of the kids at Clara’s party. Most scared I’ve ever been. When I got out backstage after intermission, Thalia was waiting for me with my mom. She punched my shoulder, called me ‘Kelp Head,’ and told me I did great. Then I hugged her,” he says, snickering. “She punched me again.”

Annabeth laughs, huffing through her nose. “Good to see some things never change.”

“That’s our Thalia for you--looking out for everyone, even when it kills her inside.” He glances at her pointedly.

It’s her turn to share. 

Annabeth’s mouth is dry, like sandpaper.

She grabs her backpack, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil. Beside her, Percy sighs, deflating a little.

Annabeth flips open a new page, and starts drawing. 

Each sketch delivers a challenge: bringing order to the whole through design, composition, tension, balance, light and harmony. Sometimes, buildings spring to life on the page, fully formed. Sometimes the page stays blank, an empty pencil.

Pencil to paper. Letting whatever wants to come out, come out. “My mom invited me to lunch one day,” she says. Her eyes follow the line of her pencil, ninety degree angles and symmetrical shapes. “I had moved to New York like six months before. Single girl, in the big city, to follow her dreams.” She’d gone to boarding school in New York before that, but it wasn’t the same as picking out her apartment and taking the train to the Manhattan skyscraper her office was held in. Sometimes she’d walk down the street, feeling like she was smack dab in the middle of Sex and the City, which she and Piper use to watch in secret, huddled under the covers in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. “Unfortunately, my mom didn’t love my dreams.”

“She didn’t approve of anarchist architecture?”

Annabeth’s laugh is hollow. “She thought I should have been charting some new path in business for a woman. But not in a feminist way. In, like, a capitalist way. But architecture was not really negotiable for me. And once that became clear, she had her own expectations about that, too.” 

Annabeth has always been a prideful know-it-all. If all her mother had wanted from her was ambition, they probably could have made it work. Annabeth wanted to reshape the skyline, she wanted her name on buildings that would last and impress. 

But even Annabeth couldn’t do that in six months. 

“She wanted the best schools, the best companies, the best projects.” She sighs. “I was lucky to find a job in New York that wasn’t just carrying coffee.” She had gotten a bigger offer from a more well-known firm where she had interned one summer, but it had been for an assistantship, heavy on the assistant. Her eventual Junior Architect label hadn’t been great, but it had been something, being a rising star at a smaller firm. It seemed like a good fit. “I did not make my mother proud. I… she lived in New York, and I lived with my dad all over.” 

Percy frowns. “Your mom didn’t have custody of you?”

“My mom didn’t want custody of me,” she laughs, bitter. God, it feels weird to tell someone else this. Piper and Leo and Luke knew, obviously, but they had witnessed it all firsthand. Telling someone else, out of the blue… Well, Percy had divulged his tragic backstory without complaint. It’s only fair that she does as well. “I mean, my dad didn’t either. But when it became clear my mom wasn’t an option, well, there we were. He stepped up as best he could. That wasn’t always a lot, but when compared to my mother, he seems like a perfectly involved parent.” 

“Are you trying to make my parental situation seem more reasonable?” 

“Is it working?”

“If you ever meet my dad, we can compare notes.” He shudders at the thought, playfully. “So, what happened with your mom?”

“She made her displeasure known.” Annabeth sighs again, shading a corner. “I mean, she’s always made her displeasure known. I wasn’t getting good enough grades, I wasn’t in the right activities, I wasn’t going to get into the right school, yadda yadda yadda. But for a long time… I don’t know, it at least seemed like she was worried about me.” She thinks of the Eta party, of the man in the brown suit, tutting about Athena Pallas’s druggie daughter, and scowls. “My mother has always had an all or nothing outlook. If I wasn’t the best, I might as well be nothing. But the thing was, this time I thought I was making real progress. And when she invited me to lunch after six months in the same city, I thought she would see that.” 

She had not. Because to Athena Pallas, having a daughter who was an architect instead of an executive Vice-President on her way to CEO, having a daughter at a small but growing architecture firm instead of the best one in the country, was like having a daughter who was drunk in a gutter somewhere. 

And Annabeth had realized as much that lunch. 

All her work was never going to earn her mother’s love.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sure what work had been her’s and what had been her mother’s ambitions. 

She’d started crying. In the cafe and right now, on Staten Island, with Percy. “I’m sorry,” she sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. “Wow, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He reaches over and wraps an arm around her, gently, rubbing her shoulder, and she more or less crumples into his side. “It’s fine. Take your time.”

Her arm, still free, keeps moving. The drawing takes a shape that she can’t quite name yet. A tree, maybe, in a box. A window to another world, possibly. She spills tears on the paper.

“She disowned me.” Her thin line trembles, before righting itself. “I ran out of there. I stumbled into the first tattoo parlor that didn’t smell like piss, and got my owl done.” She brandishes her left arm, the grey shape blurry and faded against her elbow. She had had a stuffed owl as a little girl, her protector against the spiders in the closet. “I cut off my hair, got my eyebrow pierced, found a club, and just… had a rough couple of days. Got really really drunk that night.” Like, too drunk. Crying on the floor of a filthy bathroom drunk. “Thalia found me under the bathroom sink, took me back to her place, helped me kick the hangover the next day, and that was that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Annabeth says. And most of the time, she isn’t. She wipes her eyes, smudged makeup getting smudger.

“Your mom sounds like she sucks.”

“She does.”

“What about your dad?”

She sniffs. “What about him?”

“You just haven’t really mentioned him. What’s he like?”

Shrugging, she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He’s a history professor.”

“And?”

“That’s about it.”

“I mean, do you like him?”

She shrugs again. “Sure.” There was a lot to like about Frederick Chase. “I haven’t really spoken to him in a while.”

Mouth in a sympathetic twist, he brushes the curls from her eyes, a gesture so sweet it makes her heart pound. “You should call him,” he says. “I’m sure he misses you.”

Her phone burns in her pocket, heavy with the weight of unread texts. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to change the subject?” he asks.

“Please,” she blurts out, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “God, please. Let’s go back to your cute backstory. Tell me more about your first ballet. I want to hear all about the time you were in the Nutcracker.”

Percy fishes out a napkin from somewhere, handing it to her. Grateful, she blows her nose into it, wet and disgusting. “I hate to tell you this,” he says, “But I have been in the Nutcracker, like, fifteen times.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “It's the big moneymaker. Have you ever seen it?”

“It's a holiday classic,” she scoffs, a little wetly. “Of course I’ve seen it.”

He snorts. “Like, for real, or the recorded one they play on Netflix with Macaulay Culkin?” 

“I've seen it live! My dad lived in San Francisco when I was in high school. They have a fancy ballet there.” She’d seen it as a little kid in NYC, she thought, too. Maybe when her parents were still married, or her mother was still willing to take her for Christmas. 

“Would you be willing to see it again?”

“Like, for real,” she parrots back at him, “or the recorded one they play on Netflix?”

“Ha ha. I mean for real.”

“I mean… maybe if they switched things up a bit.” 

“It's a classic!” He protests. “I mean, it isn’t like we do the Balanchine everywhere, every time. But… it's a classic.” 

“I’m sure the dancing is fine.” Annabeth says. She remembers going with Luke in Boston and thinking it was nice, but also hoping Luke would kiss her at the end of the night, so she hadn’t really paid attention. “But they get to design a land of magic and sweets and fairies, and every time the costumes and the sets are just, like, pink glitter and white gauze mixed with weird racial stereotypes. There’s no imagination.” 

“Well, okay then.” There’s something in his smile, in the turn of his head that she can’t quite identify. “What would you do?” he challenges.

She holds his gaze for a moment, looking into those eyes that almost reflect the color of the sea around them. Her eyes feel a little puffy still, but he doesn’t look away. Then, without breaking away, she flips open a new page in her sketchbook. 

“Space,” she says. “It needs space.”

“Outer?”

“Negative. Lots of space for dancers to move around.” Her pencil scratches over the paper, familiar blocky shapes springing to life. Doric fluted columns split the wings, because of course. “It’s Christmas, so we want color: no sterile, snowy landscape. We know it’s all frozen over--we don’t need to see it again. Obligatory Christmas tree here,” she sketches a crude triangle off to one side, approximately along the golden ratio, “and a big fireplace in the center, preferably a functional one.”

“You know there was this dancer in the nineteenth century that died because her costume caught fire, yeah?”

Annabeth tilts her head, capitulating. “Fair point. We’ll raise it up on a pedestal, keep it out of the way.” She draws a little platform beneath it. “But color is key.” Up above, she draws a pediment crowning the proscenium. She scribbles in the empty space, a placeholder. “Everyone knows the story, so you lay it out up here, episodes merging into each other from start to finish.”

Percy peers down at her page, his chin perilously close to resting on her shoulder. She can’t draw like that. “Kind of reminds me of the Parthenon.”

“You’ve been?”

He nods, his hair tickling the side of her face. “Couple of times. I thought you said you wanted color, though. The Parthenon’s all white, isn’t it?”

“Not originally,” she says. “Do they not explain that on the tours?” 

“Um…” Sheepish, he looks away. “I, uh, I’m not always great at listening.”

God. It’s so endearing. What the hell. She kisses him on the cheek, enjoying the way he flushes lightly. “Me either.” He is so fucking handsome. “But no, the original Parthenon, all those white statues, they were painted. Ergo, color.” 

He blinks, momentarily stunned. “Wouldn’t--uh, wouldn’t that distract from the dancers? People would just be staring at the ceiling.”

“Then… it’s only lit up before and after the show. During the show, you turn the lights down, bring the focus back down onto the stage.” She considered it. Something she’d worked on for a production once, a fashion show Piper had done at Pratt. “Or, you set it up so the colors are mostly lights. Lights that shine through during the snowflake dance and when Clara rides off with the prince. But then you also get the white for the frosted look. But, they’re still too pink, so I don’t think some color variety is bad.”

“So, not to kill your vibe,” Percy says, pulling back a bit, “but I gotta say, I don’t see how this is that different from the billion other Nutcrackers out there.”

She glares, lips pursed. He’s trying so hard not to laugh. Dick. “The set is only half the problem,” she says. “You'd need to redesign the costumes, too.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come see my show in December, and then you can tell me all about how you’d fix it.”

“Me and every tourist in New York at Christmas time?”

He nods, like he was expecting it. “Then come to my current one. September isn’t Christmas, so it’ll be a lot less crowded.”

“I don’t know,” she grimaces, sketching a star in the corner of the page. “I don’t really think I’d fit--'' Fit in with those people like the ones from the Eta awards, who thought not being her mother’s lackey was the same as being in rehab.

“Annabeth.” Percy takes her drawing hand, lifting it off the page entirely. The pencil is caught between them, an ineffectual barrier to the sweet, rubbing thumb on the mound of her palm. “I want you to come to my show. I’ll leave you a ticket. No one will care what you look like, I promise.” He stares at her, baby seal eyes in full effect.

Fuck.

“As long as you leave me a ticket,” she says, weakly. “I mean, I wouldn’t be able to afford a good seat.” The lie slips out, easy as anything. She can’t help it.

He smiles, soft and warm and way too inviting. “And in the meantime,” he says, softly, you can come with me tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. It’ll be just my mom, Paul, and my sister. They’d love to meet you.”

“I can’t,” she replies, immediately, almost without thinking. “I’ve got--I’ve got work to do.”

She doesn’t. But boys don’t bring girls like Annabeth home anymore. She isn’t meant to settle down. She’s meant for grimy bars and ship yards. She'll leave it to the princesses to be brought home.

He deflates, just the slightest bit. If she hadn’t had so much up and personal time with his naked chest and the movement of his shoulders, she probably would have missed it. “Maybe next time, then?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not entirely certain if she means to follow through. “Maybe next time.”

[djarinvibe]

I posted 1,845 times in 2021

67 posts created (4%)

1778 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 26.5 posts.

I added 2,151 tags in 2021

#pedro pascal - 624 posts

#the mandalorian - 312 posts

#star wars - 247 posts

#din djarin - 241 posts

#javier peña - 201 posts

#narcos - 184 posts

#marvel - 100 posts

#queue - 89 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 81 posts

#grogu - 72 posts

Longest Tag: 102 characters

#love it when men do the hand on the torso thing idk what else to call it or why it's so sexy but it is

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

After Dark (Mob Boss!Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hello gang, sorry this chapter is a bit late. I work retail and they scheduled me 6 days in a row this week-- it was ass. anyways, enjoy <3

Words: 5k (um holy shit??? have a long chapter as a treat yall hahaha)

Warnings: SMUT, oral - female receiving, swears, parental death mentions, child sex trafficking mentions- not detailed. MINORS DNI

Summary: The Mandalorian brings you along to a meeting with his associate, Greef Karga, before taking you to his home.

Italics = flashback // Masterlist

81 notes • Posted 2021-10-26 17:13:51 GMT

#4

After Dark (Mob Boss!Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 5

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize that this chapter is coming out late. I’ve been so busy with work and life I haven’t had the time to write :( But hey, a chapter is coming your way now! <3

Words: 6.6k

Warnings: reader and mando are lowkey el toxico but its worth it, SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex- p in v (always wear a condom irl please), dom!din (if you squint), swears, Cobb Vanth x F!Reader (if you squint), parental death mentions

Summary: The Mandalorian has begun to ignore you since your night at his home, and you wonder why.

Italics = Flashback // Masterlist​

89 notes • Posted 2021-11-08 00:30:38 GMT

#3

After Dark (Mob Boss!Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt.2

A/N: Thank you sm for the positive feedback and everything I got on the last chapter, you guys are truly the best <3 it’s really helped me get back into writing after not really trying for about a year. So fr, thank you <3

Words: 2k

Warnings: swears, minor explicit themes, age-gap (reader is in mid-late twenties)

Summary: You finally serve The Mandalorian and his guests

Masterlist

97 notes • Posted 2021-10-11 19:45:46 GMT

#2

Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist! While I may not have a lot of writing posted, I do hope you enjoy your stay <3

Dreams (Din Djarin x Pregnant!Reader): In an attempt to escape from your abusive husband, you stow away on the Mandalorian’s ship. (COMPLETE)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

After Dark (Mob Boss!Din Djarin x F!Reader): After working at a club named The Cantina for almost a year, you finally meet it’s owner. But the owner seems to have already taken a liking to you. (IN PROGRESS)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

107 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 20:14:49 GMT

#1

After Dark (Mob Boss!Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: okay... so it’s been a year since ive posted a fic oops. Didn’t mean for that to happen. Anyways, enjoy :) Gif Credit: @manny-jacinto

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: swears, parental death mentions, sexual harassment, age-gap (reader is mid-late twenties)

Summary: After working at a club named The Cantina for almost a year, you finally meet it’s owner. But the owner seems to have already taken a liking to you.

Italics = flashback // masterlist

--------

136 notes • Posted 2021-10-06 00:41:30 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[obwjam]

stowaway (bad batch x tiny)

this piece is titled: the bad batch s1e1 “aftermath” except instead of omega it’s a tiny who was a stowaway on their ship from kaller and they discover her on the way back to kamino and now they have to hide her from everyone

(bad batch spoilers included so if you care pls watch the ep before reading!)

———————————————————————

Truth be told, Jara was just as confused as the rest of them.

It was nothing atypical. Battle droids on one side, clones and Jedi on the other, all screaming and firing blasters and blowing everything to hell. Though tinies were often isolated from everything, the Clone War was the exception.

Which is why it was time for her to leave. Again.

She had already lost countless friends and family throughout her life with no massive conflict in her backyard. At this point, she just had to look out for herself; not to mention the horror stories of what happened to tinies when captured by the Separatists were at the forefront of her mind. So when she found an empty ship in the woods, she smuggled herself inside and went about observing the place. There were unopened rations and some rather awful-smelling clothes scattered about, which told her that this ship was definitely not abandoned or out of commission. There were no droids, either, so she had to assume it was a Republic ship. Perfect. Wherever it stopped at next, she would sneak off and see if she could find some other tinies to settle with for a while.

Just her luck that the clones who owned this ship were, well… these guys.

“Whatever’s happening here, I don’t like it.”

She gasped and ducked behind an object on the table when she heard the voice.

“Best not to worry about it until we get back home. Plotting coordinates now.”

She cautiously leaned out from behind the object to get a better look. There were five people -- clones, she inferred from the armor, but they didn’t really look alike at all. One with goggles was piloting the ship, while a bulky one with a big scar was slumped over in the chair adjacent to him. The other three were exchanging distressed looks between themselves and the floor.

“How long’s it gonna take?!” the bulky one groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. She flinched.

“Wrecker, please.” This one had long hair and a tattoo covering half his face. “Just relax a little.”

“Maybe you can relax, Hunter, but I wanna keep fightin’!” Okay. He was Hunter, and he was Wrecker. Not exactly the type of names you’d want to make enemies with.

“Hunter’s right. We could all use a breather after… well, after what just happened back there.” This one was pale and had a bunch of cybernetic attachments on his head. Ick.

“Hmph.” The last remaining clone, who had grey hair and a toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth, grunted in displeasure. Hunter didn’t seem to like that.

“Got somethin’ to say, Crosshair?” 

Crosshair folded his arms and didn’t say a word.

It was a fairly short, uneventful ride. The group mostly sat in silence, occasionally sharing a thought or two as they saw fit. There seemed to be a bit of tension, though, as Hunter and Crosshair kept exchanging pointed glances.

There was an uncomfortable lurch as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. Jara yelped and stumbled forward, but nobody noticed.

“We’re coming up on Kamino,” the pilot said. Hmm. Kamino. She had never heard of it.

“It’s good to be home,” Wrecker sighed from the passenger chair. “How long has it been?”

“One hundred and eighty rotations in a standard cycle…” the pilot started, and that was when Jara zoned out again. He sure had a penchant for droning on and on.

“You sure that padawan died when he fell?”

Her stomach dropped as she snapped back to attention. Wait, padawan? Died? Why did they need to make sure a Jedi was dead?

“Sure I’m sure. Why?”

“Well, usually when someone falls, you look down, not… across… uh, what is that?”

She froze. Even through the helmet, she knew Crosshair was staring right at her. She could tell because she couldn’t stop staring right back at him. Her mind told her to run, but her legs wouldn’t respond. She thought she was hidden -- only a little bit of her was poking out from behind the object she had settled down behind. But all it took was one passing glance for Crosshair to spot her. She was practically pinned down by his gaze as the others, minus the one piloting the ship, followed his stare to where she stood, shaking.

“What’s what? I don’t see anything,” Wrecker whined, standing up. She gulped. He was huge.

“There,” said the pale one, robotic arm pointing right at her. “Behind one of Tech’s… things.” Even through her terror, she managed to sniff a laugh. Tech is a ridiculous name.

Wrecker tilted his head and squinted, but it didn’t take long to find her. “Oh. Oh. Woah…”

“Don’t,” Hunter warned. He stuck his arm out in Wrecker’s direction as he inched closer to the strange, cowering girl in front of him. “We don’t know what it is.”

“What what is?” came the voice of Tech from the cockpit. He quickly set the ship to autopilot before excitedly bounding to where the other four were standing to see what was going on. “What are we looking at?”

“On the table,” Crosshair muttered. His piercing gaze didn’t waver for a moment. Her eyes flickered over to Tech, whose own eyes were wide as he finally saw her. He reached for his tablet and furiously began typing into it.

“It’s… it’s a tiny,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, we can see it’s tiny,” Wrecker frowned.

“No, Wrecker,” Tech shook his head. “That’s what their species is called. They’re a… a race of miniature humanoid beings that inhabit thousands of planets across the galaxy.”

“Oh…” Wrecker was at a loss for words. Never in his entire life had he seen something so small. So vulnerable. He took a few cautious steps, and Hunter grimaced at the way she seemed to shrink back as he approached.

“Come on, Wrecker, don’t get too close.”

“Why not? I can barely see the little guy!”

“Girl.”

“What?”

“I… I think it’s a she,” Tech said, his goggles whirring as they analyzed her. 

“Does she speak basic?” the pale one asked. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, either.

“I’m… not sure. There’s not really too much data here… height ranges anywhere from two to five inches… there have been some documented cases of tinies living well over 100 years…”

“If they’re all over the galaxy, why have we never seen one before?” Hunter posited, trying to keep his voice low. She clenched her jaw every time one of them spoke.

“...And why is this one on our ship?” Crosshair asked pointedly, narrowing his eyes. Her stomach began to turn.

“Why don’t we just ask?” Wrecker proposed. Hunter and the pale one exchanged an uncomfortable glance, but Wrecker didn’t wait for permission. He closed the gap between him and the table and took a knee. 

Her grip tightened on the object as she craned her neck upward. Even when he leaned down, he still towered over her.

“What’s your name, little guy?” he practically yelled at her, making her wince and look away. 

“Wrecker, can’t you see she’s terrified?” Hunter groused. 

Crosshair rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel right about this “tiny” being on their ship. For all they knew, she was a Separatist spy. “Enough of this,” he grumbled. He lunged forward with an outstretched hand, ready to get to the bottom of his, but stopped short of her when she pulled out a weapon, pointing it at them with shaking hands.

“DON’T!” she yelled, stunning the five clones in front of her. They were not expecting to hear her voice, much less see her unsheathe a sword that had no chance of harming anyone. “I--I’m sorry, I--I just needed to get off Kaller, please, I wasn’t going to -- I wasn’t gonna take anything, I swear! Just -- just stay back!”

She couldn’t believe this. She had never been seen before. Not once in her entire life. And here she was, finally able to escape that wretched cold planet and start a new life, and now she was going to be caged and sold on the black market like every other tiny was when they were discovered. Or maybe these weird clones would keep her as a prize.

Hunter blinked. Her tiny little sword was adorable, and there was no way it would ever make a dent in any of them. But he at least admired her ability to stand her ground. He couldn’t blame her, either -- being stared down by five enhanced clones had to be nothing less than horrifying to someone so small.

“Hey, relax… we’re not gonna hurt you,” Hunter said calmly, holding up his hands. “We just want to know who you are and what you’re doing on our ship.”

It took her a moment to stabilize her breathing, but she was able to gather enough strength to wipe away the tears she barely even realized had formed in her eyes and fully take in the giant in front of her. He was certainly terrifying by virtue of the fact that he was leaning so close to her, but the curiosity in his eyes… the way his mouth hung slightly agape… the softness of his expression… he was just confused. It was the same look she was giving him.

“I… I--I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just... I had nowhere else to go…”

“Were you running from the Seps?” the pale one chimed in. 

She shrugged. “I was running from the war.”

“Is Kaller your home planet?” Tech asked, popping into view behind Hunter. 

She shook her head. “I’ve been planet-hopping my whole life. I’ve just been on Kaller for a really long time. I’m not really sure where I’m from.”

“Hey, you never answered my question!” Wrecker cried, cutting off Tech, who was preparing to ask a follow-up question. “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Jara,” she said, voice quavering. Wrecker’s eyes lit up when she spoke -- he was just happy she was addressing him. “I, uh. I know all your names,” she managed to say. “Except you.”

The pale one was taken aback. “Um. I-I’m Echo.”

“Echo,” she repeated. That was nothing like the other four names.

“If you just stumbled upon our ship, how do you know our names?” Crosshair asked, eyebrows raised as he dared to lean in closer. 

She let out a nervous laugh. “You-- you all said each other’s names in conversation. I just connected the dots.”

“Hm.” Crosshair wasn’t sure if he believed that.

“Lighten up, Crosshair,” Hunter grumbled. “She’s obviously not a threat.”

“That we know of.”

“Well actually, according to this data, tinies appear to be a peaceful, primitive people,” Tech said. “They have little to no means to inflict any meaningful damage upon us or anyone else.”

Jara scrunched her face up and glared at Tech. “Yeah, well, you don’t need to say it like that,” she mumbled. She was surprised when Hunter snickered.

“So you really came to our ship just to flee your planet?” Wrecker asked in a rare moment of calmness. He couldn’t stop staring at this tiny girl -- he was surprised she even managed to stay alive long enough to find someplace to hide. But now that she was here, well, he felt as if it was his responsibility to keep her safe. Even the smallest of creatures could be deadly to her.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a few shaky steps forward. “I--I just needed to get somewhere safe, that’s all. Maybe find some more tinies. I was going to leave right when you landed somewhere, honest.”

“Well, there certainly won’t be any tinies where we’re going,” Tech scoffed.

“...where are we going?” she dared to ask. 

“Kamino. Our home planet.”

“More like a factory than a home,” Hunter mumbled. Jara stiffened. That did not sound like a place she wanted to be.

“There is no we here,” Crosshair scolded, glancing around at his brothers. “There is no place for you there, tiny. It’s just the clones and the Kaminoans. You wouldn’t even survive the night.” He paused, taking in the looks of apprehension from everyone. “What? We’re not seriously going to take her with us, are we?”

Hunter grimaced and shot Jara a look that said sorry about him. After a few beats of uncomfortable silence, Tech spoke up.

“...maybe just until we get sent on another mission,” he said, uncharacteristically meek. “I mean, there are so many questions I want to ask. This could be our only chance to gather data.”

Jara rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“What are we gonna do, Crosshair, make her stay on the ship? There’s nowhere else for her to go.”

“She should have never been here in the first place,” Crosshair mumbled, clearly outnumbered in his opinion. 

“But she is. And she was just trying to save herself,” Echo added. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I say we help her while we can.”

“Wrecker? What do you think?” Hunter asked, turning to the largest clone. He had been strangely quiet for the last few minutes.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, yeah. We should help,” he stumbled. “I don’t see anythin’ wrong with that.”

A loud beep echoed from the cockpit, prompting Tech to shoot up from his seat. “Strap in, boys. And, uh, girl. We’re coming in for a landing.”

Jara stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, until a giant hand was placed at her side. She yelped.

“Climb on, kid,” said Hunter, fully aware of how spooked Jara looked. “I’ve gotta hide you somewhere.”

“She can hide with me,” Tech piped up from the front. “I have some space in my belt.”

“You okay with that?” Hunter asked. Jara’s glance shifted from Hunter’s face to his hand to Wrecker and back to Hunter. 

“Um. Sure,” she said weakly. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Wrecker beamed. “Unless you want the entire clone army to know you’re here!”

“...The belt sounds wonderful.”

“Good.” Hunter stayed patient as Jara gathered up the courage to willingly climb onto a human hand. She took a few deep breaths and clenched her fists before shutting her eyes and leaping up to his palm in one try. Hunter sniffed a laugh.

“I’ll go slow,” he said, gently standing up and taking careful strides toward Tech. Jara tried her best to stay still, but Hunter could both feel her tension and her trembles. Once the ship was parked, Tech flipped open the flap to one of his belt pockets. Jara grabbed onto Hunter’s thumb when he lowered his hand down and hesitated for a brief moment before climbing into the pocket. Everyone was watching her, and she didn’t like it.

It was hard to hear what was going on outside, but as the group made their way through the hangar and back to their barrack, she was barely able to make out the words “Grievous”, “defeated” and “over”. Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Light flooded her vision once again when Tech’s giant hand snapped open the pocket. Without really thinking, he reached down and scooped her up, causing Jara to yelp and grab onto one of Tech’s fingers for dear life as she was pulled up at a breakneck speed.

“Oh. Sorry,” Tech blushed upon seeing her sickened face. The way she was clinging onto him was nothing short of adorable. “Guess that was a bit sudden.”

“A warning next time would be *hic* nice,” Jara groaned. “Oh, stars. This place smells worse than the ship.”

“Told you,” Crosshair grinned, nudging a sad-looking Wrecker. 

Echo leaned down. “You’ll get used to it.”

Jara gave a weak smile before turning her attention to Tech, who was beaming down at her. Sitting in his hand, she really had no choice but to endure his questions.

“So, goggles. What do you wanna know?” she asked, knowing such a question would make Tech explode. And it did. Even Hunter was starting to get sick of it after Tech had asked every question and written down every note he possibly could. 

“What about special skills? Do you have heightened agility, superb senses? Anything like that?”

Jara shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I dunno. I don’t really know what’s… normal.”

“Hmm…” Tech wrote her answer down word-for-word. “What if we tried--”

Across the room, Wrecker had finally lost it. “Ugh, can somebody shut him up?! I can’t take it anymore!”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand the importance of--”

“--I think he’s right, Tech,” Hunter jumped in. “You should give her a break.”

“And give us a break,” Crosshair mumbled to himself.

“I-it’s okay,” Jara interjected. The last thing she wanted was to become the center of another conflict. “You can ask me more stuff later. I don’t mind, really.”

“Later…” Tech repeated. “So, what? Are we going to keep you?” 

“Keep--keep me?” Jara gulped, her eyes flying wide.

“I think he means let you stay here with us for a little longer than a night,” Hunter said. “Right?” 

“Well, since we have to go to that meeting soon, and then who knows what we’ll be asked to do after, I just assumed she meant she would be staying with us for a while, considering there are multiple tests I need to run now. Not to mention all the questions I’ll surely have after that.” Tech paused, giving a look of hurt to the group. “I thought that was obvious?”

“Tech, come on, you’re freaking her out!” Echo cried. He was right. At the mere mention of the word test, Jara had tensed up again. “Can we even do that? Actually harbor a stowaway with us?”

“It’s definitely against regulations,” Hunter mused.

“...so we gotta do it, right?” Wrecker jumped in with a big grin. “I mean, come on! She has a tiny sword! That’s awesome!”

“Well, I guess that’s up to her,” Hunter smiled, turning his attention back to Jara. Her gaze was bouncing back and forth between all five clones, though it was obvious to Hunter that she was trying to avoid looking at Crosshair. “Whadda ya say? Do you wanna lay low with us for a while?”

“You really mean that?” she asked, overtly aware of the fact that this could be a trap. After all, it was clear one of them didn’t like her. But the others… Tech was overzealous, sure, but he was earnest in his curiosity and desire to simply know more about her. Echo was definitely reserved, but seemed to be just as concerned for her as the others. Wrecker was just a big ol’ kid. He seemed to like her just fine. And Hunter… well, Hunter couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He was rational. She knew he believed her story, however unbelievable it may be. 

Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I do. I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ll try and keep you safe until we can find you a better place to live. I should warn you, though. Our squad’s nothing but trouble. It might get dangerous.”

“The only thing I’ve ever known is danger,” she shrugged. “And I’ve stayed alive this long.”

Wrecker let out a bellowing laugh. Even though it shattered her eardrums, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Ha! I like her!”

Jara didn’t say it, but in that moment, everyone seemed to pick up on it. She liked them too.

[emilycollins00]

Muku + Azami headcanons

For lovely @skateboarding-poet!

It’s my first time writing a rareship but I had so much fun! These two are just so precious, I love them to pieces. Please enjoy! 💕

This ship is basically nonchalantic innocence meets bubbly dreamland and is gorgeous.

Azami might not get why Muku likes reading shojo so much, but while he can feel he’s going to hell just from hearing all the indecent things his boyfriend has read... he won’t judge too much overall.

Muku likes them and they are important to him, so now they are important to Azami too within certains limits of course

Others are not extended the same courtesy though, a.k.a Sakyo

Both of his personalities are pretty calm and chill so whenever they go on dates it’s all about walking around Veludo to shop for make-up and books, visiting animal cafes or just staying at the dorm in each other’s rooms.

Muku adores listening to Azami’s voice. He also discovers Azami tends to hum whenever he’s in a good mood so the summer troupe member will usually peak over the manga he’s reading, his heart skipping a beat at the soft sounds.

I also feel like Azami is not really one to expect praises out of nowhere, so when Muku starts compliment him -as the ball of sunshine he is with no filter whatsoever-.

“...Need something?”

“Oh,no! I was just thinking I really love your eyes Azami-kun, they are  beautiful!”

Azami can never anticipate those and becomes an absolute mess.

On a similar note I don’t think Azami is a looks person as much as he is a personality person, but he can’t deny just how pretty Muku is?? 

Everyone in Mankai can see his eyes softening while unconciously staring at the pink-haired helping Izumi with the dishes or laughing at Misumi’s antics and it’s so blatantly clear how in love he is.

Kisses are too much for Azami’s heart at the beginning of their relationship though, maybe a peck on the cheeks in private but he’s NOT a pervert okay??

The first time Muku ever reached out to held Azami’s hand, boy swore his heart stopped.

“Wha-! A-at least wait until we are married dammit!”

“R-right, I’m sorry! I just thought that- um, your hands always look so soft b-but of course my hands are sweaty and they-”

Before he finishes, a pinkie intertwines with his. Muku has never seen the boy’s ears in such a red color “Azami-kun?”

“Just don’t look at me, okay?. God this is so...”

After the initial shock, Muku squeezes back giggling. 

Later that night, both are still glancing at their own pinkies in their respective rooms and im soft about it.

Of course the whole yakuza family knows Muku by now wouldn’t expect less and you better believe that boy will be protected for life. The Sakisaka’s also adore Azami who brings them the best skin products choosen with the utmost care.

Muku asking opinion to Azuma, Yuki and Sakoda gift ideas for Azami for being always so attentive but he’s so lost.

CDs?? Make up? ah, but make up is expensive, and what if he already has them or worst what if he hates them or-

In the end he makes wool felt dolls of them with Omi’s help. 

“A-as I thought it’s really childish, right? I’m sorry I should have just-!”

“Are they for me”

“Uh?”

“The dolls” Azami takes the one that looks like Muku and glances at the young boy.

“Oh! um- yeah!”

The dolls are now sitting next to each other in his desk and NO ONE is allowed to touch them.

Anyway, Muku going starry-eyed whenever he sees Azami’s skills in action.

Also, whenever Azami gets injured or he just genuinely feels tired from rehearsals, Muku takes his hand unconsciously and places a kiss on it and Azami becomes a blushing mess right away.

But in general Muku knows just how reserved Azami is in the romantic aspect and won’t push him out of his comfort zone until he’s comfortable.

Still, Azami will be more likely to show PDA if he senses Muku needs a comforting presence, tiny kisses in his forehead are a must.

All in all it’s a quiet and slow love, but neither of them would change it for anything.

Extra!

Azami had never been good at showing his feelings, or at least that’s what he heard from others since he was young- deadpan face was it?- he didn’t remember much.

Reality though was quite the opposite. He always seemed to feel too much, respond too quick in waves of emotions. His determination and strong fuse if pressed wrongly often gave him troubles so he opted to lay low, or at least, that was before he entered Mankai.

And then- god, then there was Muku, who had amplified those feelings beyond what he thought it was possible.

Much to Azami’s own surprise due to their evident views on love and its approach, the pink-haired boy had become someone who was eager to learn everything about him, who accepted both the good and the bad. Someone who accepted his passion and pride.

“Azami-kun, you are amazing!”

Of course he had fallen in love.

                                                             .                                                           .

It was a fuzzy feeling whenever lights were out for the day and Azami still got messages from the young summer member, even if they had said their goodbyes half an hour ago before heading to their respectives rooms. It was the Muku who started them most of the time, usually to rant on him about the last story he was reading in a failed attempt to warm Azami up towards that hell of a perverted genre, but he would lie if he said he hadn’t gotten used to them.

His phone vibrates, a light signaling a new message once again.

What do you think, won’t you consider it? It’s one of the best I’ve read!

Azami rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. His thumb scrolls down softly over the five continuous paragraphs -new record, he also noticed- that consisted the review of Muku’s manga before texting back.

Already told you. Just find me one where there’s no kissing, holding hands or any of that perverted stuff you and that shitty old man enjoy and then I’ll read it.

He could practically visualize the pout forming on Muku’s face as he read his response.

But that kind of shojo manga isn’t romantic at all!

He chuckles. Being in a relationship before marriage was something he had swore wouldn’t happen to him. But his feelings for Muku were real, and he wouldn’t changed them for the world.

Checking the time, he saw it was getting late- they shouldn’t cut more hours for their skin to rest. He was about to write back to notify Muku of his plans to go to sleep when he saw an audio. Turquoise eyes frowned as he tilted his head confused. Muku had never sent him audios before, mainly because they saw each other every day.

He laid back, resting his head on the pillow and clicked on it, vaguely curious.

There it was, that characteristic bubbly voice Azami had learned to distinguish, quieted down probably to not bother Kazunari. Just what-?

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

He definitely jolted and quickly turned to Sakyo’s side, containing his breath until he noticed the annoying snores from his bed. All compose had left him in those three seconds the audio lasted, and Azami swears his chest did a backflip on its own. 

“What the hell...?”

Muku really wasn’t aware of the weigh of his own words.

He stares at the phone, his mind registering what had just happened. Then, as if in a trance, he’s barely aware of his actions before his finger presses the audio again- just one more time.

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

One more time.

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

One more time.

“Sweet dreams-”

One more time.

He could feel the sound of his smile over the phone. The way he drew out his name, so full of affection. His tone was warm and light, and how was he supposed to sleep now, Azami didn’t know.

Groaning, the autumn member covers his face with the back of his hand. Shit, he’s so embarrassed he can feel the heat growing on his cheeks and ears.

He rolls on the bed, taking a quick glance at the few photos of Mankai Omi gave him once to decorate the empty wall. A special warmth showers Azami when he makes contact with those purple eyes, always gentle. They looked back at him with a softness he had rarely encountered before and a smile that made his heart once again leap on his chest.

Oh, he was so done.

“He’s gonna kill me…he’s gonna fuckin’ kill me…”

And yet, he played it once again.

__________________________________________________________

Wishing everyone a wonderful day!  💕

[plasterasher]

You stay with Me Part 1

A/N: i’Ll PoSt MoRe OfTeN. I’ve said that like five times no one’s gonna belive that shit but I’m gonna try. ANWAY this was supposed to be a short one shot but it’s almost over three thousand words and I’m not even done writing it. SO I split it up and I’ll do the whole link things for them when I get the other parts out.

Ship: Anxceit and Moxiety

TW: Cursing, Slight Angst

“Virgil I just don’t trust him!” “How can you not trust him, it's Patton for fucks sake! What do you think he’ll do to ground you?” Janus sighed, He and Virgil had been arguing for over an hour about this. “Jan this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! We're getting an opportunity to have a seat at the table, to talk to Thomas! You can’t let your personal opinion of Patton cloud this!!” “Ve you don’t know the things he’s done. You’re too-” “If you say I’m too young I swear to god.” Virgil, who was sitting on Janus bed, while Janus paced the room, stood up. “If you and Remus won’t tell me what happened when I was forming I can’t take it to heart.” “Please Virgil I’m begging you. Don’t do it.” Janus looked at Virgil with pleading eyes. “Jan I can’t miss this opportunity! It’ll be good for us you’ll see.” Virgil says while grabbing Janus’ hand and facing him towards him. “No. If you go to the lights, don’t come back.” Virgil flinched, Janus almost took back what he said but he bit his tongue, there was no way Virgil would choose the lights over us, over his own boyfriend… Right?

“...Jan you don’t mean that.” “I do. I do mean it. You can totally comprehend the emotions I feel towards Patton! You understand what Remus and I have been through! You should just go with Patton and leave us forever!” Janus screams. Virgil pulls Janus into a hug. “Janus, calm down. You're speaking in lies.” Janus takes a deep breath then pushes Virgil away. “You go with them and leave forever, or you stay with us.” Janus looks into Virgil’s eyes. “You stay with me”. When those words left his mouth they sounded like a plea, a cry for help, a last resort. Virgil sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I-I have to think about it.” And with that he sunk out of Janus' room to go to his own. 

Virgil sighed and flopped on his bed. A fight with Janus was not on his agenda for today. Virgil didn’t understand why he was so worked up over this. What did Patton do? What could sweet innocent Patton could have possibly done? The man didn’t even curse! Virgil groaned and pulled on his hair. This was stressing him more than he planned, the last thing he expected Janus to say is no, and so strongly… Maybe he shouldn’t do this… 

Is being with the light, getting a chance to be in Thomas’ life, getting a seat at the table, a chance at a better life, was that really more important than the others? Than Janus?

Don’t get Virgil wrong he loved his boyfriend, he loved his friends. He would do almost anything for them. Maybe this was one of those things he had to do. To show the lights that them and the dark sides shouldn’t be separated. That there should be no Light and Dark sides. Virgil honestly thought that his whole Light and Dark side bullshit was stupid. 

But... if this all goes south where will Virgil go? If he wanted to come back Janus would never allow it, he was too stubborn to let go of his pride so easily. Virgil sighed again pushing his face into the mattress. He wanted to scream.

“Hey Kiddo! I was just-” “AH!” Virgil jumped up and squeezed his heart. “Jeez Patton you can’t just…” Virgil waves his hand up and down, “Do that.” Patton giggled and smiled, “Oops sorry kiddo! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to check in!” “That’s fine…” Patton frowned, “Is something bothering you kiddo? You look upset.” Virgil rubbed his face then sat up quickly.

Maybe Patton can tell me what happened.

“Uh yeah me and de got into a fight… Hey Patton can I ask you a question?”  “You already did but go ahead.” Patton said giggling at the end. “Did something happen before I formed? Between you, De and the Duke?” Patton’s eyes flashed with emotions rapidly before only one showed. Pain. Virgil jumped “Uh youdon’thavetotellmeifyoudon’twantto-” Virgil said quickly. Patton sighed “No kiddo it’s fine, I just though they would’ve told you…” “Um tell me what? Exactly?”  “Do you mind if I sit?” Virgil scoots to one side of the bed and pats the side nearest to Patton gesturing for him to sit. Patton sat down crisis-cross applesauce (There's got to be a better name for this) next to Virgil on the bed. “Well…”

Long ago there were 4 main sides.

Logic: The smartest but also the weakest. 

Morality and Deceit: Equals but polar opposites. They were also fairly strong.

And Creativity: The strongest and most powerful of all the side.

They called him King Creativity for he was the most powerful and practically ran the place.  Logic found the King obnoxious but didn’t bother him much. Morality really liked him at first but as he got older he became more inappropriate but Morality stayed quiet for the King had a special place in his heart. 

Now this is where the problem starts. The two opposite sides had more in common than they would want to believe. They had both fallen for the King. They loved everything about him, and it didn't take them long to find out the other’s intention. 

Deceit in a rush of hope confessed his love and got the King before Morality did. Now as heartbroken as Morality was he stood back and attempted to move on. 

As Thomas grew and changed so did the other sides, Logic became stronger, Morality and Deceit were no longer equals one was now stronger than the other, and the King… The King grew split in his head and he was suffering. He was stronger than ever but it was too much power for one side to handle. 

And one day he s p l i t . 

Suddenly there were two Creativities, The Duke and The Prince. When Deceit found out he was furious and heartbroken. He screamed and cried and blamed Morality for his lover being gone. Morality just as heart broken as Deceit tried to defend himself but Deceit wasn't having it.  He took one half of Creativity and left the others.

Thus the start of the separation of the Light Sides and the Dark Sides. 

When Patton finished his story Virgil was in shock. Never in his life did he think Janus, his Janus was the reason for the Light and Dark side split. He didn’t even notice Patton had tears in his eyes until he looked up. “Oh Patton, I’m sorry!” Virgil pulled Patton into a hug. Patton chuckled and hugged Virgil back, “It’s fine I’d just wish Deceit would understand. I still feel awful about it.” Patton said. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll try to get him to talk to you again so we can work this out.” Virgil said Patton looked at Virgil and smiled through the tears. “Thanks Virgil.”  

‘Was this whole thing really just a big misunderstanding? Maybe the reason Jan didn’t want to talk about it is because he feels guilty?’ 

“Would you like me to stay for a little bit or?” Patton moved away from Virgil’s embrace, “No, You can go. I’ll be okay!” Patton had stopped crying but he still gave off a sad vibe. Virgil didn’t ask questions and just nodded his head and sunk out.

He appeared in Janus' room and saw Janus on his bed wrapped up in a yellow blanket. “I did think you’d be back so soon…” Janus says from the bed but doesn't make any attempt to move. “I’m assuming you made up your mind?” 

Fuck. Virgil forgot about that part of the fight just that quickly. “Um no. Well not exactly… um I know.” Janus made a face, “You know what exactly?” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, “What happened… Why you hate Patton…” Virgil made a really long pause. He was hesitant to say the next part. “About King.” Virgil said softly. Janus visibly tensed. “How” He hissed out. “Patton told me…”  Janus barked out a laugh. “Yeah right. I doubt he told you the truth but that’s not important, what did you come to my room for? To ask if it was true? To accuse me of the splitting of sides?” Virgil's eyes went wide “What!?! No! Actually…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck now unsure if he should’ve done this today. “Well? Spit it out.” Janus said impatiently. “Actually Patton wanted me to talk to you. He wants to talk to you.” Janus scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Jan to me it just sounds like one big miscommunication. I think if we all just sat down and talked-” “No.” Virgil was getting frustrated now. He knew everything and he still felt lost. Why was Janus being so difficult about this? “Why? What could you possibly have against the light sides? It wasn’t his fal-” “You know nothing , absolutely nothing. You do not get a say in what I do and or say to them. You may think you know something but you don’t.” ‘Then tell me! Help me understand! Because to me you're being unreasonable!” “No. You don’t need to know, I don’t want to talk about it. Beside you knowing won’t change a thing.” “It may change my mind.” The room went quiet. “So you did decide.” “Maybe…” Janus took a deep breath. “And your decision?” Janus asked even though he already knew the answer. “Janus I have to do this.” “No you don’t” “Why can’t you try to see it from my perspective.” “Leave Virgil, but don’t come crying back to us when it doesn’t work out.” “Janus…”

“Leave Anxiety.” Virgil scoffed “Fine Deceit.” And with that Virgil left.

Next

[justasparkwritings]

Exile: My Town

Previous: Five Whole Minutes

Pairing: Timotheé Chalamet x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: PG15 

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

Exile Master List

     The phone had rung hundreds of times over the last six months. The first month, Timothée called her twice a day, every morning and every night. On weekends he called more frequently, drinking his days away, leaving embarrassingly long messages. He declared his love, shared his vision for their future, talked about what he wanted to name their kids and when he thought they’d get married. He described the property in France that he wanted to buy, did she know he had been looking? He detailed how he wanted to continue to go back to Crema for the summer, maybe buy a villa there too, and split summers between the two locations. He wanted their kids to learn French and Italian, he wanted her to learn too. He wanted to wear a paisley suit, or maybe velvet, for their wedding. Their wedding, he had already planned, and wouldn’t it be romantic if it was over three days in their new château?

    He became more desperate as the days turned into weeks, which turned into months. On one particular evening, his anger overcame him as he yelled into the receiver about her belongings and their house. What the fuck did she want to do? Did she fucking plan on ever coming back for her clothes? Did she expect him to fucking ship them from their house to wherever the hell she was? And, where was she? Where the fuck was she? Why was she doing this to him? To their life? Why the fuck couldn’t she get over it and come home? Didn’t she realize how much he needed her? Why wouldn’t she just talk to him?

    This had been the final straw. He had awoken to find a new folder had been shared with him. He opened it and was confronted with what he had become. She had saved his voicemails, his drunken assaults and languid descriptions of their life. She had kept his sobs, his deepest secrets, his desires. Here they were for him to relive. At the end was a memo he hadn’t recorded, a message from her, telling him the days she would be coming over to pack her belongings and detailing the furniture in the house that she wanted. She didn’t care where he went, but for those three days, he couldn’t be there. She told him to sell the house, she’d take her share of the profits, and if he decided he didn’t want to move, he needed to buy her out.

    The cracks deepened. The sorrow became overwhelming. The darkness was everywhere. Despite her best attempts, her jovial personality and excitement at preparing for the baby, Florence was at a loss. She didn’t know how to make him feel better. She didn’t know how to dissuade the guilt she felt at playing a part in their demise.

    After six months and one week, Florence had gone into labor. They decided to keep it low key, which is why on a Saturday a month after his daughter’s arrival, he had called her to ask if she would come by and meet his new daughter. He had left it open ended, a few friends stopping by to meet her, no big deal, and maybe could they talk? She had said she would stop by. After seven months, she still hadn’t spoken to him about why she left.

    Florence had brought the baby over to get acquainted with Timothée’s home, since she would be spending half her time with him. Tim was excited to have his daughter in his house, instead of staying at Florence’s a few nights a week to take care of her. He recognized that they would need to find a solution until she stopped nursing, and he was more than happy to spend the night, often taking all the night shifts so Florence could sleep. But he wanted his daughter in his house, and he wanted to share his daughter with his love, even if they hadn’t spoken in seven months. She was still his love, his future, wasn’t she?

    If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

    “Hi,” She says, holding the gift box tightly in her hands.

    “Hi love,” He says, smiling at her. “You look, gorgeous.”

    “Don’t,” She says.

    She had tried to prepare for this, for being in her house when it was no longer hers. Timothée wasn’t making a move until they had spoken. Why would he sell their house, the house that they had built and let their love blossom in? She couldn’t tell if he loved it because it was theirs, and in his mind, he still thought there was a chance they would get back together, or because he really liked the modern home. The fact that he hadn’t bought her out or moved to sell it both infuriated her and reminded her why she would always love him: sentimentality.

    She stands at the threshold, peering in. The memory of picking out the tiles in the entry way and the stain of the hardwood floors cascaded over her. She had insisted on the herringbone pattern, which made the stairs look like a maze of wood grains. Timothée had just looked at her, smiling and saying, “as you wish”. She hadn’t imagined when they’d hung their Christmas photos leading towards the living room, that she’d been on the outside, wondering how long he’d keep them up and when he took them down, would he tell her? What would he do with the framed images when he realized they no longer had a future? Would he keep them up, despite it no longer being a home, but to show his daughter what once lived in this place? Or would he discard it to create something new for his life with his child?

    “We’re in the living room,” Timothée steps aside and lets her walk in. She kicks her shoes off and pads softly towards the voices and baby coos.

    “You came!” Florence calls, standing up to meet her. “I’m so happy to see you.”

    She meets Florence’ enthusiasm and hugs her. Florence had wanted to meet with her at various points in the pregnancy. She wanted to talk with her, try to get her to understand what her having Timothée’s baby meant, but she didn’t budge. She would only see Florence in group settings, and even then, she stayed away. Which is why Florence is so thrilled when she walks into the living room.

    “You look amazing! How are you feeling?” She sits on her couch, the one she spent weeks researching, picking patterns, comparing quality of fabrics, before insisting on this one. She hadn’t expected Timothée to change their home, but it was almost worse sitting in it, everything where she left it. He had bought similar items as placeholders for the ones she had taken, his unwillingness to admit that the items weren’t coming back evident in their lesser replacements.

    “I’m doing well, really well. Did you bring a gift? You didn’t have to!” Florence says, reaching for the present.

    “Oh, it’s nothing, really,” She hands the box to Florence, who proceeds to open it quickly.

    “Oh my god, this is so cute!” Florence calls, taking in the puzzle she’d picked out.

    “You know, for when she’s a little older and is playing. I remember my name puzzle from childhood, I always loved it,” She says smiling.

    Timothée can feel his heart aching. Of course, she picked a thoughtful, caring gift for his daughter. Of course, even in this challenging situation, she chose to take the high road.

    “Well, speaking of, this is Margot,” Florence says, picking up her daughter from the bassinet to the right of the couch. Placing her delicately in her friends’ arms, Florence sits.

    She smiles and cradles Margot in her arms. She can feel the tears as they begin to form and wills herself to not let them fall. She has Timothée’s eyes, and enough curly hair to match her father. Her olive skin and delicate features resemble her mother. She’s beautiful.

    Moments pass before she realizes she’s staring, unmoving, unspeaking.

    “She already loves you,” Timothée says, coming over and sitting next to her on the couch.

    “She’s really beautiful,” She says, handing her back to Florence. Silence falls as Margot coos. “Um, I can’t stay long, just wanted to stop by,” she says standing.

    “Nonsense, stay for a drink!” Florence says, positioning herself to nurse baby Margot.

    “No, I can’t, thank you though, for inviting me,” she quickly hugs Florence and says bye to Margot. She walks swiftly to the foyer and slips her shoes on before he’s grabbing her wrist.

    “Don’t go,” Timothée says, grip tightening on her skin.

    “I have other plans, can’t cancel,” She says, free hand moving to wipe a stray tear.

    “Talk to me, you haven’t spoken to me in seven months, please,” He says.

    “Well you’ve done enough for the both of us,” She opens the front door and starts walking down the driveway.

    “I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say it, I’m sorry,” He grabs her wrist again in an attempt to turn her around.

    “Stop apologizing.” She says, tugging her arm out of his grasp. “Just, stop.”

    “Why can’t we talk about this? Why can’t we share in this? I need you; I love you. I know you’re mad at me, I know you’re upset but I’ve been racking my brain for seven months trying to figure out why you can’t handle this. You are my rock; you are my fucking harbor. We have a life together! I need you; I need you,” He says, the crack in his voice giving way to the tears spilling down his cheeks.

    “I can’t do this,” She says, voice wavering

    “Why the fuck not?” He calls.

    “Because! Because Timothée,” She yells, venom in her throat. “This is supposed to be me. This is supposed to be my life. This is the life you promised me.” She tries to inhale through her sob. “I know you need me. I know it’s been a difficult seven months. But this was supposed to be us, it was supposed to be our baby in our house. You and me.”

    “I’m sorry, I know, I know we had plans I know, but, she’s my daughter and I can’t change what’s happened with -”

    “You don’t fucking get it, Timothée,” She cuts him off.

    “What don’t I get? What don’t I understand? I have been trying to understand why you left for months! I keep coming up short. Why would you walk out on us? Why would you abandon me and our dreams? What possib-

    “She made you a father,” She gasps as the words tumble out. She pauses, trying to inhale and regain any sense of composure. “Florence gave you a child. She did! No matter what I do, I will always…”

    “I-I,” He stumbles, realization washing over him as his body gives way to another round of sobs.

    “I will never be able to… my entire life, my life with you … our life … is gone, Timothée. Sell the house, buy the villa in Crema, raise your daughter…” She throws her hands up and inhales abruptly, “This was supposed to be ours.”

    She darts into her car and quickly pulls out of the driveway. She doesn’t stop as he falls to his knees. She doesn’t stop as she drives away from the house and the life they shared. He doesn’t stop calling after her, even after his knees hit the concrete, the snot and tears mixing on his tongue as he tries to will her back.

Next: Insult to Injury