#it is really true that pilots share thoughts and way to be

[helifreds]

"Flying may kill me, but not flying would kill me worse."

Fred North

This, this is absolutely the best book I have ever read and, sentence after sentence, I am more and more honored to be here reading it

Above all it's the first time ever I feel so deeply in touch with the words of someone I never met, cause page after page, same situations and same obstacles, I can't help but think how much this whole situation represents exactly what happened to me

[queenofwands89]

Revelations

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Fem!Pilot!reader

Summary: Y/N overhears Jake's heartfelt confession about liking someone and dares to hope it's her. But when she sees him with another girl, intrigue and uncertainty swirl. Is she the one he truly desires, or has she misread the signs?

Word count: 3,010

Warnings: Angst, Misunderstanding, reader jumping to conclusions, eavesdropping, other character plotting against Jake and y/n, tears, sad, fluff, confessions.

Notes: This is somewhat of a continuation of this fic, but you don't have to read it because I intended it to be a standalone. Didn't have time to proof read so sorry for any typos. I hope you enjoy byeeee 💜

Your friends had been relentless in their teasing about Jake having a crush on you. At first, you laughed it off, finding it impossible to believe that Jake Seresin, the eternally confident and suave pilot, could be interested in you. But as time passed, you started noticing small gestures and moments that made you question your initial disbelief.

Jake had always been kind to you, but recently his kindness seemed to extend beyond common politeness. He remembered the tiniest details you shared in passing—how you liked your coffee, your favorite authors, even the specific way you styled your hair on a bad day. He was quick to offer help, whether you needed an extra hand with a task or just someone to talk to. The way he looked at you, with an intense and sometimes tender gaze, made your heart flutter against your will.

Despite these signs, you remained conflicted. The thought of Jake possibly liking you brought as much fear as it did excitement. What if your friends were just teasing for fun? What if Jake’s actions were merely those of a considerate friend? The fear of misinterpreting his actions and making a fool of yourself loomed large in your mind. You began to feel like you were walking a tightrope, delicately balanced between hope and skepticism.

One afternoon, you were walking past the common room at the base when you heard familiar voices—Rooster, Javy, and Jake—engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation. Curiosity and a bit of anxiety gripped you as you recognized Jake's voice among them. You slowed your pace, your heart thudding in your chest, and edged closer to the door.

“I just don’t know how to tell her,” Jake admitted, his voice carrying a vulnerability that you had never associated with him before. You could sense the frustration and hesitation in his words, the struggle of a man who was usually so self-assured finding himself in unfamiliar emotional territory.

Your heart raced. “Could they be talking about me?” you wondered, your breath catching in your throat. The possibility sent a thrilling yet terrifying jolt through your system. You pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear more, each beat of your heart echoing in your ears.

“But you’ve got to tell her, man,” Rooster encouraged, his tone filled with genuine support. “She deserves to know.” The sincerity in Rooster’s voice struck a chord, amplifying the gravity of Jake’s confession.

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Jake's voice, usually so cocky and assured, wavered with uncertainty. “What if I ruin everything?”

A pause followed, the silence heavy with the weight of Jake’s fears.

“She won’t.” It was Javy who spoke next, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’ve got to trust yourself. And trust her. She’s not just anyone; she’s special.”

You felt your pulse quicken, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling within you. Could it really be true? Was Jake talking about you? The words from Rooster and Javy seemed to point in that direction, but the fear of jumping to conclusions held you back.

“I know she is,” Jake replied softly, almost to himself. “That’s what makes it so damn hard.”

The vulnerability in Jake’s voice replayed in your mind, planting even more seeds of doubt and hope. The need to discern reality from your friends' teasing and your own fears had never felt more urgent.

Before you could eavesdrop any further, Natasha's voice echoed from down the hall, calling your name. Panic surged through you like an electric shock. Instinctively, you quickly moved away from the doorway, your heart pounding and thoughts racing. As you walked towards her, trying to act casual, you couldn't shake the question that now consumed your mind: Who was Jake talking about?

"Hey," Natasha greeted you with a curious look, her eyebrows knitting together slightly. "What were you doing back there?"

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the room where Jake and the others were talking. Finally, you confessed, “I overheard Jake talking with Rooster and Javy. He was talking about liking someone but didn’t say who.”

A knowing smile crept onto Nat’s face as her curiosity morphed into something more mischievous. “Why are you so worried about Jake liking someone?”

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I-I don't know. I guess... I guess I just wondered if he was talking about me," you stammered, hardly believing the words were coming out of your mouth.

Nat's eyes widened in realization, her smile broadening into a grin that practically split her face. “Oh my god, you like Jake!”

“No, I—” you started, but Nat cut you off, clearly reveling in this revelation.

“Everyone’s been saying he has a crush on you,” she continued enthusiastically. “Jake's always sweet to you. I'm pretty sure he was talking about you. You should tell him how you feel.”

Your mind raced back to countless little moments that suddenly took on new significance: the way Jake’s eyes lingered on you during group meetings, the playful banter that always seemed to hold a deeper meaning, the subtle ways he tried to be there for you without making it obvious.

“I don’t know, Nat,” you replied, faltering. The fear of being wrong and the risk of vulnerability loomed large in your thoughts.

Natasha placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her grip firm. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to be happy. And what’s the worst that could happen? If he wasn’t talking about you, then it’s his loss. But if he was… think about what you could be missing out on. Just tell him how you feel.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your swirling emotions. The blend of hope and fear still churned in your chest, but Nat's encouragement gave you the courage to consider a possibility you had been afraid to fully acknowledge.

“Thanks, Nat,” you said quietly, giving her a small, grateful smile. She grinned back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Without missing a beat, she added, “You should tell him tonight at The Hard Deck. The atmosphere is relaxed, and you can catch him in a good mood. Plus, it's a place where everyone feels a bit more confident.”

You nodded, the idea settling comfortably in your mind. The Hard Deck, with its familiar ambiance and sense of camaraderie, seemed like the perfect place. “Yeah, you’re right," you agreed, feeling emboldened by the plan.

Nat’s grin widened. “Great! Then it’s settled. Go get ready, and don’t worry—I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear before you get there.”

With newfound resolve, you turned back toward the hallway, your heart still pounding but now with a touch of exhilaration. Tonight at The Hard Deck, you would take the leap and tell Jake how you really felt.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Bolstered by Nat’s reassurance, you decided to muster all the courage you had and took a chance. You spent the rest of the afternoon overthinking every scenario, planning out how you would approach Jake and what you would say. The anticipation tied your stomach into tight, nervous knots, but Nat’s words of encouragement echoed in your mind, giving you the strength to push forward.

That evening, you arrived at The Hard Deck, the familiar scents of sea air and salt mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. The warm glow of string lights cast a welcoming ambiance over the buzzing crowd of friends and fellow pilots. You scanned the room, your eyes searching for Jake.

There he was, leaning casually against the bar, seemingly in his element. His smile was bright, his laughter infectious as he chatted with a few squad members. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, walking purposefully towards him, each step fueled by the hope of finally expressing your feelings.

But as you closed the distance, your heart nearly stopped at the sight unfolding before you. A blonde girl, stunning and radiant, approached Jake with an ease that spoke of intimacy and familiarity. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with affection. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Your breath hitched painfully in your throat as you watched her lean in and kiss his cheek, her lips lingering as Jake's arm encircled her waist.

Your world tilted on its axis, the scene playing out like a cruel dream. Every piece of hope you had built up shattered, splintering into a million jagged fragments. The voices around you faded into indistinct murmurs, the vibrant atmosphere of The Hard Deck suddenly feeling cold and isolating.

Swallowing hard, tears threatened to spill as you silently concluded that the conversation you had overheard was about this blonde girl. The connection and affection between them were undeniable, making your earlier hopes feel foolish and naïve.

Crying on the inside, you turned on your heel, each step away from Jake feeling like wading through thick, relentless waves. You slipped out of The Hard Deck, the door closing behind you with an unsettling finality. Your chest ached with unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams, your heart heavy beneath the weight of unreturned feelings.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

In the coming weeks, you found yourself avoiding Jake entirely. Whenever his name came up or plans were made that involved him, you made excuses, retreating into a quieter, more isolated version of yourself. Each glimpse of him became a painful reminder of what had been and what could never be, the gap between you widening into an unbridgeable chasm.

Though Nat and other friends noticed, you didn't feel ready to explain. The feelings were still too raw, so you chose to keep them to yourself and carried on as best as you could. You knew deep down that Jake liking someone else doesn’t make him a bad person because he has every right to be with who he wants to be. You had no right to be mad; you were not upset with him, just heartbroken. And that heartache was enough to make you withdraw, even from those closest to you.

The day of Bob’s party arrived, a day you'd been both anticipating and dreading. Just the night before, Rooster had casually mentioned that Jake wouldn't be attending. A mix of relief and disappointment had washed over you—relief for avoiding the emotional turmoil, and disappointment because, as much as you wished otherwise, you still deeply cared for Jake.

As you entered the bustling party, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The loud music, laughter, and upbeat conversations seemed distant as you struggled to enjoy yourself. You chatted with a guy near the drinks table in an attempt to distract yourself, but your eyes kept searching the crowd for a familiar face that wasn't supposed to be there.

Then, as if mocking the emotional preparation you'd done, there he was. Jake, with his striking build and effortlessly commanding presence, stood across the room. A pang of shock struck you, and for a moment, you were frozen. How could he be here? Rooster had clearly said he wouldn't be! You quickly decided to play it cool, hoping he hadn't noticed your initial reaction.

You re-engaged in your conversation, attempting to laugh here and there, but your thoughts were distracted. Your gaze involuntarily kept flitting over to Jake's direction, drawn by an invisible thread. When Jake caught sight of you talking with someone else, his expression darkened with displeasure. He started moving towards you with determined steps, each stride amplifying the wave of unease that settled in your stomach. Your heart rate quickened, and you struggled to maintain your composure as he approached.

“Can we talk in private?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for objections.

“No, Jake, not now,” you tried to brush him off, your voice shaking slightly. But Jake was insistent, tugging you gently yet firmly to the other side of the room.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, frustration evident in his voice. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.

You tried to keep your voice steady. “It doesn’t matter, Jake. Let it go.”

But Jake wouldn't back down. Your voices rose, drawing the attention of everyone at the party. You felt tears welling up, the emotional pressure becoming unbearable. Turning on your heel, you fled to the basement, hoping to find a moment's peace. Jake, however, was right behind you.

“Y/N, please,” Jake pleaded as he finally caught up to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Please just stop! Jake, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

Before Jake could respond, the door to the basement swung shut with a loud click. You both turned, realizing in horror that it had locked from the other side. Jake tried the doorknob several times, each attempt becoming more forceful and desperate, but it wouldn't budge.

"Great," Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re stuck."

You sighed, leaning against the wall. "Just perfect," you said sarcastically.

Jake approached you slowly. “Maybe this is a sign,” he said softly. “We need to talk this out, Y/N.”

Communicating in the dim basement light, you braced yourself for whatever was to come next.

Jake's voice finally broke through the silence. "Please, tell me what I did wrong. I've been unraveling without you."

His words shattered your heart into countless fragments. As you truly gazed at him, the toll of your silence became evident—dark circles lingered under his eyes, his complexion wan and weary.

Heart racing as you paused in uncertainty. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to turn and face him. For a moment, the words seemed trapped in your throat, but Jake's worried eyes spurred you on. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you finally turned to him, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I've been avoiding you because I overheard you talking with Rooster and Javy about liking someone, and I thought it was about me. But when I saw you with that blonde girl at the bar, I felt so stupid. It was clear to me then that you were talking about her."

Jake's expression shifted from confusion to shock. “You overheard our conversation? And what girl are you talking about?”

Your frustration spilled over, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know! There was a girl at the bar a few weeks ago who hugged you and kissed your cheek. I thought... never mind, it’s irrelevant. You have every right to date whoever you want. It’s none of my business, and I have no right to feel upset or betrayed, and I—”

“Wait, Y/N, hold on,” Jake interrupted, his tone urgent and pained. “That conversation was about you. The girl you saw? She’s my sister. I can’t believe you thought... Y/N, you mean the world to me.”

Confusion mingled with hope. "What do you mean? You were actually talking about me?"

Jake nodded earnestly, stepping closer. "Yes, Y/N, every word was about you. I've wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but I was terrified because the bond we share is so precious to me. I couldn't bear the thought of losing it. When I was talking to Rooster and Javy, I was trying to find the courage to be honest about my feelings for you. And that girl you saw at the bar? That's my sister. She came to town for a visit, and I wanted her to meet the most important person in my life—you. I can't stand the thought of you feeling hurt because of a misunderstanding. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Seeing you with your beautiful smile, hearing your laughter, it's the highlight of my day. I cherish every moment we spend together. Y/N, you are my best friend, but you're also the one who makes my heart race. My feelings for you have only grown stronger over time, and I can't keep them hidden any longer. You are my everything, and I just want us to build something even more beautiful together."

A mixture of relief and happiness washed over you, your eyes welling up. “Oh, Jake, I’ve felt the same way for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you either. Seeing you with someone else just crushed me... I’m so sorry I acted like that.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound filled with affection. “It’s alright, Y/N. I get it. But you don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s always been you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into Jake’s eyes. “I should have talked to you instead of hiding away. I’m so embarrassed. I’m really sorry for everything.”

He grinned, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Well, we do make a good drama for the team, don’t we?”

You laughed, the sound breaking the tension. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Jake gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “How about we stop the drama here and start something real instead?”

With your heart full of joy, you nodded, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The moment was perfect, everything you had dreamed of and more.

As you pulled apart, breathless and smiling, a loud cheer broke through the silence.

Turning, you saw Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapping and cheering enthusiastically.

“Way to go, Jake!” Rooster called out, grinning widely.

“Finally!” Nat added, her arms raised in celebration.

Javy winked at you and said, “Took you two long enough!”

Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapped and cheered, their smiles wide with happiness.

Rooster gave Jake a playful punch on the arm. “Good thing I thought to lock you two down here in the basement. You needed this talk.”

You and Jake exchanged a look, laughing together for the first time in what felt like ages. With your friends' cheers still ringing in your ears, you knew this was the start of something beautiful and true.

-

Tag: @bella-the-proud-fangirl

[slasherscream]

Hello Bee! First I want to say that I really love your writing and your characterization of the characters. I've read so much of your stuff over and over again, it's so good! Thank you so much for writing it all!

Secondly, I wanted to make a request. Sorry if this sounds dumb, but could you please make a crazy ass husbands with an artisitic s/o? Like someone who may not necessarily create art, but is really passionate about like painting, and music, and just all the types of art? I saw you added Vincent Sinclair and thought of this 😄.

If not its fine, I still want you to know that I adore and enjoy your writing! Well wishes! 🩷🩷

Qimir (the acolyte) - Qimir likes the way you get carried away by music. The way you close your eyes when you walk into a cantina and musicians are playing. The little songs you hum to yourself when you’re piloting the ship, or fixing something. Music awakens something in your soul. You feel it deeply. Love songs and tragic laments alike light a fire in you. Every now and again he’ll have the two of you go to planets known for their music, their unique sounds, and singing styles. It’s always under a false pretense. The training or mission he sends you on are usually extra grueling before you’re given your “reward”. Otherwise, he feels like a slave to the whims of your joy. What wouldn’t he do to see you smile? To relish your little gasp the first time you hear a new instrument or song? He likes to reach out, using the connection you two share, and feel what you feel. He’s so glad he freed you from your shackles of repression. The way you indulge your passion is beautiful. 

Norman Bates - You’ve always loved flowers. The first thought you had about the motel was that it needed some nice flowers outside. You’ve traveled the country, visiting all sorts of gardens. It’s an odd hobby, but one you chased relentlessly. Until you met Norman, and settled into the hotel with him. But eventually you start to crave those gardens again, so you decide for the first time not to just admire gardens, but to cultivate one. There are a few false starts. Miserable failures. Mixed successes. But Norman is encouraging every step of the way, and eventually your little motel begins to shine. Ivy creeping up trellises you place against the house. Roses, peonies, lavender, poppies. All in ranges of colors and sizes. You repaint the motel when it begins to look shabby in comparison to the garden blooming around it. For the first time the motel starts to look… welcoming. Like a true home. People in town begin to stop by and spend the night just so they can have breakfast in the garden the next morning. People propose to each other at the Bates Motel. Get married there. Honeymoon. Have the celebrations for their baby’s christening among all your flowers and saplings. Norman doesn’t have a green thumb, but he brings you lemonade and kisses your cheek and thanks you earnestly for bringing color and life into his world. 

Hannibal Lecter - This is one of the ways you and Hannibal bond. You could talk about art for hours together. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, and your raw passion for the topic makes it so that you always have something new to say to one another. Date nights consist of going to art galleries for big and small artists. Something about being in one another’s presence sweetens the art itself. Hannibal often surprises you with trips to other countries just so you can go to their art museums and partake in new art scenes. Money is a small thing to Hannibal. The conversations you have about art? Those are priceless. 

Shane Walsh - He’s never been too interested in the arts. Not before the end of the world and certainly not after it. The only art that matters now is the art of survival. He tells you this often. Tells you to look to the future. Focus on surviving the day. On perfecting the skills he tries to teach you, day in and day out, so even if he’s gone, you’ll be okay. But you make him soft. For all that he bitches, he’s always giving in. Always looking to keep you alive, yes. But he wants you to be happy too. So he takes detours, and looks for libraries and bookstores that are beginning to cave in on themselves and smell of rotten pages and wood. He’s risked entire hoards of walkers to retrieve a book he knew was your favorite. He doesn’t mind when precious bag space is taken up by whatever paperbacks you can get your hands on. One day he might find a town that he likes enough and decide to go through the trouble of turning a library into a home for you. It will be well fortified, and he won’t like how many entry and exit points it might have. But he’d love to see you in your element, surrounded by what you love. 

V (from V for Vendetta) - So much art has been ruthlessly crushed beneath the boot of the fascist government you live under. Admiring the arts, any form of it, is like trying to hold sand in your hands. Your grip grows ever more desperate to hold onto anything. But there is no rhyme or reason to what is outlawed or taken away. Little bits of your soul are chipped away, with each new restriction, with each new burning or banning. Until V whisks you away to his hideout, and suddenly the world is made anew again. You are surrounded by art, art you didn’t even know existed. Things you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You inhale everything the gallery has to offer. You feel nearly gluttonous. In each room there is something new to see, hear, read. A feast for your senses anywhere you turn. You feel alive for the first time in years, maybe ever. V, in turn, feels his own form of gluttony. He cherishes every bit of delight he brings to your world. He feels like the worst kind of miser. The lowest of villains. What could be more precious than your smile? Or your laughter? Nothing. And by keeping you here, with him, he deprives the world of you and all you have to offer. But the world isn’t kind to precious things. So he keeps you like all the other treasures of this world. Hidden. Safe. Loved. 

Candyman - You collect book nook shelf inserts. Your home is covered in shelves, just to fit them. You have more book nooks than you do books separating them. Daniel is charmed to death by the collection. By the tender, diligent way you take care of them all. You spend hours of your week dusting. Fiddling. Making tiny adjustments. There must be something meditative about it, because you never complain. The joy he felt whenever he held a paintbrush is the same joy that flashes across your face when you open a new kit. He watches you assemble your precious, miniature worlds and ask you quiet questions, every now and again. He doesn’t want to break you from the beautiful trance you fall into, but he loves to peek into your mind. “What drew you to this scene, my love?” / “This one has an enchanting gloom to it. You have such an eye for art.” / “This one looks especially fragile, you might have to be more gentle, love.” He enjoys watching you lose yourself in your hobby. He loves the way you are unashamed in your joy. How you take pride in this work. You curl up into his side, after you’ve spent hours assembling one of your nooks, and the two of you will stare at it in all its completed glory. 

Robert Neville (I Am Legend) - At first he thought you were a hallucination. He’d been hearing things more often. Seeing things too. The human mind wasn’t built for isolation, as a scientist he was well aware of that. He tries to compensate as best he can. With his mannequins. With entertainment. By focusing on his research. He only has to stay sane long enough to fix the world he couldn’t save. That’s all. But then he sees you, while he’s hunting. The sun is still high in the sky, and you don’t move like a dark seeker. You’re cautious, slow. You also don’t move like a hallucination. You don’t really look like one either. He almost doesn’t approach you, afraid he’ll discover you were a mirage. He follows you all day long, until the sun is getting too low for comfort. Then Robert approaches you, fumbling through the obvious (it isn’t safe out here), barely remembering to introduce himself because people have names. Hoping desperately that you’ll trust a strange man instead of taking your chances with the dark. But the entire time he talks to you his eyes keep drifting to all the jewelry you’re wearing. Earrings. Bracelets. Necklaces. Rings. They glint in the light. Hypnotizing in their imperfections and intricacies. You move into his home, but you two drift around each other like ghosts. You’ve been alone so long, the both of you. You dreamed of meeting another living person. But faced with the reality of it, you’re overwhelmed. Until one night after dinner he finds you in the living room, making more of your jewelry. Slow and careful. He asks you about it, and you tell him it kept you sane while you were alone. Made you feel human. Then you look up at him, and he freezes under your gaze. (It’s been so long since he’s looked into someone’s eyes. It almost hurts. He can’t imagine ever looking away.) You ask him what kept him human. He’s not sure he still is. But he moves to sit beside you on the floor, hands you beads, and tells you he's been pretty fond of movies lately. 

Lestat De Lioncourt - You were a tailor in life, before he turned you. In death, in this eternity he’s given you, fabric is nearly your religion. With your vampiric eyes, you see even the tiniest flaw in stitching. All colors look more vibrant. The world looks more alive. Even though you can never see the way certain fabrics and colors catch the light of the sun, moonlight and starlight can be just as beautiful. You drag him to fashion shows in order to soak in the new styles, and cuts of clothing. You are as endeared by couture as you are the various counter cultures that arise throughout the decades you spend together. You spend exorbitant amounts of money on the finest bolts of cloth and thread. Sewing and tailoring and designing can be done entirely on your own. In fact, you’d probably be done quicker if you were just left to your work. But Lestat gets lonely when you lock yourself up in your work room for days on end. He likes to drape himself against your back, push himself into your side. Trail teasing fingers up your arm, to see if he can get your ever steady hands to falter (he cannot.) Looking over your shoulders and seeing what latest fashion has caught your eye is his hobby. You don’t mind the company of your muse. Sometimes you even sit him in front of you as you sew, and let the sound of him talking guide your needle and thread. He hardly wears anything you don’t make. Not only is your work superior, but every piece is made of love. 

Abe Sapien - You love everything about movies. How they’re made. Sound design. Light design. Set design. The difference between digital and film cameras. Abe was caught in your orbit the minute you were recruited. Talking to you, trying to form a connection, however, did not come as easy. Awkward nods as you passed one another in the hall. Stilted, dry conversation as you ate lunch at the same tables. It was enough to drive him mad. He didn’t know why he alone was unable to form any sort of acquaintanceship with you (especially when he wanted far more than that). This all changed during movie night. You were watching the voted on film play out on screen, entranced by every individual frame, it seemed. He’d never seen anyone smile so fetchingly, or blink so little. He bravely, and quietly, asked if you were enjoying the film. You began to eagerly whisper to him all sorts of details about how the film was made, the difference between the final product and script. Apparently, it was one of your favorites. With one conversation, the bridge between you two was crossed. Abe had been so caught up in enjoying literature, he hadn't explored much of the diverse realm of cinema. Happily, you appointed yourself the esteemed position as his guide. Somewhere between sharing your tastes, late night discussions, and dry eyes from sleepless nights, you leaned over to kiss him. He kissed you back, and you both forgot all about movies for a little while. 

Vincent Sinclair - You were an avid admirer of sculptures. You went to museums, and had to curl your hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch the statues. There was something so beautiful about someone taking the time to carve human shapes out of stone and earth. To make marble resemble fabric as delicate as silk. It was breathtaking to you, really. Until you came across the House of Wax, you hadn’t really thought of wax as a means to make sculptures. Instantly, you are captivated. You forget that your car is being “repaired”, so closely do you look at every sculpture. You admire each one from several angles, for long periods of time, face giving away nothing. Vincent watches you, wanting to know what you’re thinking about his art so desperately he feels as if he’ll die. He interrupts Bo from the preparations to kill you and makes him ask you questions. Bo asks each one through gritted teeth, irritated to be playing a game of telephone, but even he is a little charmed by your thoughtful answers. When Vincent insists on not killing you Bo just shakes his head and washes his hands of the situation. You fall asleep in the town’s only motel, but when you wake up you’re in Vincent’s workshop. You’ll be able to admire his art for as long as you like now. 

Joel Miller - You tell him stories. You’re an avid collector of them. Wherever you go, you collect a story from someone. Sometimes they’re fantastical. Some myth or aesop fables that will be lost to the sands of time and the chaos of the apocalypse within just one more generation (if humanity makes it that long.) Other times they’re heartbreakingly real. The taste of an apple pie someone’s grandmother used to make for them. The memory of someone trying on their wedding dress for the first time. You have a way about you. It’s your eyes. The warmth in them. The understanding. Even after so many years of survival and fighting, you possess an empathy that should have gotten you killed by now. Instead you’re the keeper of people’s stories. You’ll be riding side by side on your horses, and Joel won’t sense any danger nearby, so he’ll say the magic words: You got a story for me today, L/N? And you always do. The sound of your voice keeps his head quiet. 

A/N: i blushed bugs bunny curled ears style. thank you for the compliments, made my day! i think yours is the first crazy ass husbands gang request i’ve written! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[where-dreams-dwell]

*spoilers for One Day*

For people saying ‘it’s tragic, Dex and Em only got 3 years together’ no. They got 15 years together.

Glossing over the span of their life together to sum it up as ‘only 3 years together’ misses all the love and time they had together that wasn’t solely romantic.

Why is their relationship only ‘important’ or ‘counts’ when it’s a romantic one? Maybe there was always romantic love buried in there or growing steadily but there was a whole lot of platonic love there too.

For 15 years they were the most important person in the world to one another, they described each other as their ‘best friend’ and the person they reached out to at every high and low moment. And for the last 3 of those years they were also a couple.

There are loads of examples of Dex reaching out to Em when he’s at his lowest: the last birthday with his mum, then he’s reeling from his divorce, when he’s scared people will hate him on TV. And you *could* read that as pathetic and Em being his emotional crutch, with Dex latching into her. But you could *also* see that as when you’re struggling and low, you just want your best friend. Because they *get* you. And part of being a best friend is being there in those low moments.

And Em has done the same with Dex, just in different ways. That first year out of uni Em had no idea what she was doing; in a job she couldn’t wait to leave, a relationship that didn’t make her happy, not sure where she was going in life or what she was doing. Em writes to Dex often, and doesn’t need him to reply to her, just to read her letters and be *her* emotional crutch and person to vent to.

Even at that breakup-dinner, Em has things she ‘needs to talk about’ and she’s reached out to Dex to do it. We don’t see her discussing it with Tilly, we see her trying to talk about it with Dex. She’s at arguably her lowest moment (hates her job, hates her partner, hates her home) and she wants her best friend to listen to her. Just like he did when she was 24 and thinking about giving up and leaving London, and Dex convinced her to stay and keep going.

So they are emotional crutches *to one another*. That’s also part of being someone’s best friend.

And for all the low moments Dex also wanted to share his best moments with her too: when he’s excited about the TV pilot he calls Em to say ‘the only person I want to share this with is you’, and begs Em to find a way to be there. Yes this is also him dismissing and ignoring her achievements, yes this is self absorbed and rude and at the height of his egomania, but in that moment of triumph he only wants his best friend there with him.

When they see one another again at Tilly’s wedding Em is brave and self assured when she reveals she’s ‘thought of you every day, missed you every day’, and that even though they are friends again now the fact that Dex will have a wife and child ‘feels a bit like loosing you all over again. Because people with families have different priorities…’ That’s how close they were before.

The sentiment that ‘we grew up together’ is really true, for the both of them. They were very different people throughout their lives, and if they had tried to be a romantic couple earlier there is no guarantee that version of them would have lasted the course.

Would Emma have stayed with a peak-of-his-tv-fame Dex, partying and living life ‘to the full’? Or would they have explosively ended and decided they were too different for one another for it to ever work?

Would Dex have even tried for a career in TV or a full year of travelling if he’d become a couple with Emma after Uni? Or would he have done something else but grown resentful of what-could-have-been?

If they had sorted out their issues and apologised after their fight and Em had left Ian, would Em have found the strength to turn rock bottom into a spring board and finally write her book? Would she have even hit that bottom at all? Or would the hook have remained a pipe dream while she continued as a teacher, happy with Dex but professionally unfulfilled?

We will never know what could have been, and that doesn’t necessarily make those alternatives the ‘better’ option that they ‘missed out on’.

Maybe they would only ever have had 3 years together as a couple and getting it in their mid 30’s the way they did was their most mature and peaceful version.

So yes at times their relationship feels like it’s moving toward the inevitable conclusion of a romantic partnership. But the time before they get there wasn’t wasted or unimportant or unnecessary. And they were always together.

[russellsppttemplates]

I thought you didn't want to tell anyone (Charles Leclerc)

It appears that the Leclerc family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. I got this request from @myheartgoesvroom a good while ago and I finally had the time to write it!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy symptoms, feeling sick, being bothered by warm temperatures/heat

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are we all ready to go?", Charles checked with everyone inside the jet, seeing the nods and Charlotte, Lorenzo's girlfriend shrug her shoulders, "I slept funny last night, it's just tiredness", she said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the seat, "I'm going to sleep for a little bit".

Charles told the pilot they were ready, sitting next to you in the three seater, his mother sitting next to you on the other end, "I hope you are all going to take this time to rest", Pascale looked at all of you, "if I see any of you checking work e-mails, I'll swat your phones myself", she chuckled, seeing Arthur shake his head and Charles grab your hand in his, "if I see you in your phone, I'm locking it", you threatened, "you need to rest, amour, this season has been pushing you too much", you mumbled, kissing his cheek as Carla started talking about something she had seen on the news.

When you arrived at the airport, it didn't take long until you were in the van that was taking you to the hotel you were staying in, "well, these are some winding roads", Carla said, opening the window to get a little bit of fresh air, "we're nearly there, miss", the driver smiled apologetically, "but it is true, these roads are not the the weak".

"I'm usually fine, but motion sickness is bothering me a lot today", she muttered, taking big and deep breaths as she looked out the window, "it's that one there right? Looks really good!".

The check in was done seamlessly and everyone was given a card key before you headed to the villa, the staff members that helped you with the luggage also explaining a few of the amenities and how the services worked for you since you were staying in a villa and not in the hotel building.

"We have to go see about the rental cars, and the boat, too", Charles put his hands on either of his brothers' shoulder, "which one of you guys want to come with me?".

"I'll join you, and we can stop by the supermarket to get some snacks, yes?", Pascale suggested, grabbing her bag as the boys grabbed their wallets, "do you need us to go?", Charlotte asked, "no need, chérie, they can go and get the cars and we'll do the shopping. Go rest for a little bit, yes?", Lorenzo said to his girlfriend, kissing her forehead and leaving the three of you to unpack.

"The rooms are all pretty identical. The suite is bigger and has a bigger balcony, but they all have a bathroom", Carla pointed out as she opened the door to exemplify, "it has a bigger bed, but Charles will sleep glued to me, it's not like a bigger bed would make much of a difference", you blushed, "so if any of you guys want it, go for it. Or we can leave it for Pascale", you suggested, seeing the other two girls nod and go to each of the smaller rooms, leaving the one closest to the suite to you and Charles.

The room was decorated in a minimalist way, tones of white, beige and light brown complimented by the sunlight coming from the window to the balcony. While the girls unpacked, the boys and Pascale got back and discussed the plans for dinner.

"I can get them to deliver the food to the door, no problem", Charles said as Charlotte admitted that she was hoping for an early night, her headache still bothering her, "we just have to set the table and they'll bring anything we want", he showed them the menu, "I'm not picky", you said, "but if they have that local dish, you know the one with the chicken we had last year in that restaurant? I'll have that", you said to your boyfriend, getting up and heading to the kitchen with his mother, hoping you'd be able to find all the cutlery, cups and plates that you needed.

When the food arrived, everyone helped set it up in the table, "I'm just going to wash my hand quickly and I'll be right back", Charles mumbled, kissing your cheek as he held out his hand that seemed to have some sauce on it.

.

The first full day began with a walk along the beach since you wanted to get to know the area and Charles didn't mind joining you, walking hand in hand along the wooden decking, "it's really warm today", you pointed out, fixing your cap and adjusting your sunglasses, "yes, last year wasn't so warm, right?", he said, "it's a good thing we always have the time and the opportunity to come here year after year, specially as a family.

"They won't say it out loud, but I know maman, Lorenzo and Arthur, and girls, too, they consider you family already. The guys specially, I think they've always considered you part of our family and Pascale Leclerc herself has never failed to mention how much you and I were made for eachother since I was old enough to understand what that meant", he kissed your knuckles.

"I'm very grateful for that, I'm very grateful for you", you whispered, almost like you were telling him a secret even though you made conscious effort to let him know how much you loved him and cherished him everyday, not wanting him to ever entertain the idea that you didn't feel those things towards him.

The walk was going well until the heat started getting to you, "can we go walk along the water, please?", you caught Charles' attention, "I think it's getting a bit too warm for me, I'm nearly tripping over my steps", you giggled as Charles pulled you to the warm sand, "do you want me to carry you? Get some water? Look, there's a bar", he pointed, walking with you to the beach bar and getting a bottle of water, "here, amour", he handed you the bottle.

"I think it's the heat", you blushed, "and I admit I could be more diligent about my water intake", you admitted, holding Charles' hand in yours and pulling him towards the water, the freshness from the water in your feet helping you cool down.

Walking back to join the rest of the group, you noticed Charlotte in the water with Lorenzo and Pascale while Carla and Arthur stayed in the sun loungers, "I see Charlotte is feeling better, that's good", you smiled, arranging your towell and laying down on it, "can you reapply my sun block, please?", you asked Charles since he was still up.

"Sure", he grabbed the spray bottle, rubbing the product on your skin, "and are you feeling better?", he asked, "I think my mother always has a hand fan with her, I can go a look for it in her bag", he offered.

"Are you feeling okay?", Carla checked, emphasising you, "I'm fine, just bothered by the heat, I was not made for these temperatures", you chuckled.

"Oh, I just remembered that really hot summer in Monaco where you had to stay inside because the heat outside made your face go tomato red in less than a minute!", Arthur teased you, "Hey!! I was about eleven, I was going through puberty and, like I said, I wasn't made for these temperatures", you added, "Carla, if you want to to hit your boyfriend for that one, you have my blessing".

By the time the rest of the group came back, lunch time was approaching and you made your way to the villa, deciding to make something for lunch since you had the fully equipped kitchen. The boys were on the grill and Pascale was seasoning the fish, "you have to make sure it's properly cooked", Lorenzo explained to his younger brothers, assertive that no raw fish would end up on the table, "do you guys need help? Y/N is just finishing the salad, Carla went upstairs and Charlotte also went up to wash the salt off of her skin".

"She's okay, right?", Arthur asked, the worry in his voice noticeable, "I think so, yes, she said something about cream for her shoulders, I think", Pascale quirked her brow, "her skin was slightly red when we walked back here", Charles pointed out, still not convincing his youngest brother as he walked upstairs to check on his girlfriend.

"I don't want that towell, I want this one", Carla stated, swapping the identical towells on top of the sun loungers after everyhting was tidied and you decided to spend the afternoon by the pool, "sure have that one", Arthur smiled charmingly, "do you want anything else?", he asked her, "I can go and get if for you", he said as he saw her negative nod, moving to the lounger next to her, "I'd like a beer, actually", Lorenzo called for him, "then you can get up and go get it yourself, brother".

.

After you arrived back from dinner, Charlotte went upstairs so she could rest, Lorenzo excusing them and wishing everyone a good night before they went up, leaving you, Charles, Arthur, Carla and Pascale in the outside area, sitting in the sofas as you talked about the plans for the next day, "are we still up for the boat?", Charles checked.

"Do you feel better?", Arthur asked his girlfriend, rubbing her shoulder, "yes, I told you it was just the road. I'm not used to winding roads like that, not all of us can be fine at all that speed and turns and bumps", she nudged her boyfriend, "are you sure? We can just sit it out", Arthur insisted, "I'm fine, Arthur, let me go on the boat with my favourites. You'll also be there, but that's a pain I have to deal with", she teased him.

By the time Pascale asked for your intake on something, you were already asleep, holding one of the pillows, "Oh, bless her", she smiled, catching Charles attention to your figure, "I should take her to bed", he stated, getting up and storing his phone on his pocket.

"How do I...", he mumbled to himself, trying to find the best way to move you to the bedroom without waking up, "you can just wake her up, Charles, like usual", Pascale noticed her son's dilemma, "she needs her rest, she's... she needs all the help she can get from now on", he said, sliding his arm around your back and the other under your knees, successfully holding you safely against him, "Good night everyone, see you tomorrow", Charles said lastly, heading to your bedroom.

When he laid you down on the bed, you stirred a little bit, opening your eyes, "hey, beautiful, I did my best not to wake you up", he cooed, softly touching your cheek, "you can go back to sleep, amour, here", he nodded, taking his t-shirt and shorts off before laying down next to you, pushing you to lay on his chest, "have a good sleep, my loves", he kissed the top of your head.

.

"Are you sure you're okay?", Arthur asked Carla again for what felt like the tenth time in the thirty minutes they had been on the boat, "if anything feels wrong, you tell me and we will go back to the port?", he nudged, "yes, amour, I will tell you", she told him, looking at you and silently questioning if you too thought this was a bit much, her quirked brow showing her own confusion, "he's just being caring, I guess? It would be worse if he didn't care about you", you reasoned, grabbing your bag and finding a spot to lay on.

"I have your water, amour, to make sure you actually drink more that the average for a little kid", Charles said, walking to meet you in the deck with two big bottles of water, "I have ice cold and room temperature, depending on how you're feeling", she smiled, sitting next to you and placing a tote bag down, "I also have snacks if you get peckish", he said, "we just had breakfast, Charles".

"I know, but of you get peckish, it's okay, it's normal, so you have your snacks here if you want them", he added, laying on his stomach as his arm wrapped your body near your waist, his hand rubbing small circles and shapes on your tummy.

.

"Lorenzo just called me to check if I was okay. Am I being inconsiderate if I think this is too much?", Charlotte confided with you, "don't look at me, Charles suggested I sit this paddle game out 'and take the opportunity to rest, amour', like that's not what I have been doing", you reasoned, seeing Carla walk in with a pharmacy paper bag, "Arthur asked someone from the reception to bring me this, and then he texted me saying that 'they're safe' for me. Isn't medicine safe anyway?", she took a box from the bag, "those are anti-sickness pills", Pascale recognised after reading the box.

"We all believe something is wrong with them, don't we?", Charlotte was the first to point it out, verbally you soon after found out, as Pascale shook her head as he laughed, "something has been wrong with them since this holiday started. I know I raised attentive boys, but neither of them have let either of you out of their sight, I mean, yesterday I heard Charles tell Y/N that he was going to use the bathroom and he would leave the door semi open so she could call him if she needed anything", Pascale offered, seeing you roll your eyes, "that was true, I was hoping no one heard it", you blushed, "no worries, the walls are not that thick, chérie, and Charles didn't exactly whisper either", she rubbed your shoulders.

"So they're treating us like we are made of porcelain and no one knows what is up with them?", Carla asked, "a couple of nights ago, Lorenzo told me he would wait until I was ready to tell him", Charlotte shrugged, "I just let it slide because I didn't know what he was talking about and, honestly, I was closer to dreamland than I was to here, so I didn't pay it too much attention".

"What would you tell him, though? And it seems like they haven't talked about whatever is going on between them either. Was it something they saw?", you reasoned.

"We have to try and think like they're thinking so we can figure out", Carla said, "a hard task at hand considering how they think", Pascale retorted.

"They've been very caring with us, more than usual, and it's each one of them with each one of us, and not with you", you pointed to Pascale, "do they think we're ill? We're not mad at them, right?", you looked over, "so, it's, like a health thing, something that requires changes in the long run and- Oh no", you pitched in, sure that if you were a cartoon, the light bulb would be lit up on top of your head.

"I think my card is not working properly, I'm going to the front desk to see if they can sort it out or give me a new one", you informed Charlotte and Carla as you closed the door before you. When you went to the front door to grab the towells one of the staff left there, you weren't quick enough and let the door close, and when you tried to ring your card in, it didn't work.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience", the man at the front desk apoligised, "it's okay, these things happen. Thank you again, have a good day", you smiled at him, grabbing your new card and walking back to the villa.

The house had three big bedrooms, the suite, a big living area connecting the kitchen to the living room and the outside was even bigger. You had direct access to the patio where you had a big table and barbecue area, as well as a pool and a big garden with a small gate at the end that led to the beach. Overall, it was the perfect place for you to spend your holiday and you had been looking forward to spending time with family.

You were taking in the view and enjoying how the warm air surrounded you when you stumbled on someone, "I'm so sorry, are you okay?", you asked, looking at the whole situation and seeing a few games on the floor and a small box you recognised from the pharmacy.

"I'm good", a shaky voice said, "I'm sorry I ran into you, I have to admit I was distracted", a young woman around your age apoligised back to you, "I work with kids all day, why would I be so nervous to be pregnant?", she blurted.

Sensing her nerves, you thought you could help her, "do you need help with that? I'm pretty good in a crisis so I can be a sound mind of you want to", you attempted.

"Would you, actually? I really need to vent it all out", she cringed, "I'm staying right here, let me just tell the girls", you opened the door, "Carla! Charlotte!", you called, seeing them join you in the hall, "this is Ana", you introduced, "these are Carla and Charlotte, we are all dating brothers, different ones, I mean", you chuckled, "and Ana here could use our support because she has to take a pregnancy test", you smiled.

"It's very nice to meet you, you can use this bathroom, here", Charlotte said warmly as she opened the door of the bathroom by the stairs.

After reading the instructions, you left Ana to do her thing before she opened the door again, "so,", she smiled nervously, "is this your first time here?". "Yes, we've never been here. Last year we stayed somewhere else. So far, so good", Carla responded, "pardon my question, but are counting on a certain result?".

"My boyfriend and I have been together for a long time, and we've not been not trying, I guess?", she chuckled, "it's just nerve wracking you know? I work with kids, that's why I have all of those games, I work at the kid's club", she explained. The phone with the timer beeped, catching her attention and making you rub her back soothingly as she got it and read the results, "you're pregnant, Ana", you smiled.

"She must've put it in the trash and they saw it, let me check", you said as you walked to the bathroom, "there it is! She put it in the trash and they all saw it", you reasoned.

"Well, that surely explains a lot of it. I have seen Charles, particularly, dote on your like your a porcelain doll, but even these last few days were unusual for him", Pascale chuckled, "the way he helped you up the stairs? That's when it clicked for me that something was really different".

"Well, the things is that there's nothing different", you stated, "and Lorenzo and Arthur too, then!", you rubbed your temples, giggle alongside with the rest of the women in the room, "Pascale, with all due respect because you've raised these men impeccably, sometimes they're not the sharpest", Carla touched her shoulder, "should I be offended because I followed their train of thought?", you wondered.

When the boys arrived back from their paddle game, you and the rest of the group stayed in the living room as they headed up for showers, claiming you'd prefer to stay in for the night since you weren't feeling well, earning all of the three boys' approvals without further questions.

Charles was the first to come down, hair still wet as he walked to you, kissing your forehead, "do you need anything, amour?", he asked and acknowledged your negative answer, sitting next to you and cuddling you to his chest, "have you been feeling good today?", he brushed your hair and pulled it behind your ear. On your end, you were trying your best to keep a straight face, "yes, I'm fine, got all the rest I needed", you smiled, kissing his cheek and allowing him to place his hands under your top you were wearing and touch your tummy.

A little while later, Lorenzo walked dowstairs too, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for him and another for Charlotte, checking if she was feeling better while Arthur also joined you in the living room.

"I'm just ordering dinner", Charles said as he typed on his phone screen, "they say they can put everything with eggs on the side and separately, and there are no raw ingredients, everything is washed and I-", he was interrupted by Carla's loud laugh.

"I'm sorry, I can't do it, not when I know where all of this is coming from", she continued as Charlottle broke down, too.

"What do you mean?", Charles said as the confusion on his face became clear, "Charles, amour, look at me", you called, "do you think there is something wrong with me? That my health status has changed?", you questioned honestly.

Charles fumbled with his words, "I mean, amour, I- do you want me to say it out loud or whisper in your ear? I didn't know of you wanted to tell anyone because you haven't told me either, and that's okay! But do I say it now?", he yelped, "you're pregnant, Y/N", he stated.

Arthur and Lorenzo got up as if on cue, both belting out "Y/N's pregnant, too?", before looking at their girlfriends and seeing their giggles, "you think the three of us are pregnant?". The brother's looked between them, "I saw the test in the trash bin, and Carla had just been in the bathroom, so I assumed we were having a baby", Arthur reasoned, "Charlotte hasn't been feeling well, it's her test", Lorenzo offered, "are we talking about the same test on that bathroom or has that bathroom been the 'pee on the stick and find out you're pregnant' Station?", Charles argued back.

Chuckling you got up and cupped Charles face with your hands, "it happened once and it's Ana's test", you smiled, "the girl from the kid's club. She was scared to take it and we gave her some support, that's all", you smiled, "no one's pregnant here", you finally said.

The boys made a collective "oh" noise until Arthur spoke, "you were not feeling well and I just thought that it was yours", he said to Carla, accepting her hug, "same goes to you, you kept saying the food tasted funny and I connected the dots, that apparently weren't so clear", Lorenzo said to Carla.

Charles had shifted on his feet a couple of times before he turned to you, "I thought you didn't want to tell anyone, that's why I didn't say anything. If you did not feel comfortable in telling it, it was because you wanted privacy and I respected that. I thought you'd eventually announce it when you were ready so I didn't push for it either, I just wanted to be there", he admitted. You kissed his jaw soflty, "well, there's no baby in here, the test does not belong to any of us".

"It's a good thing to know, though. Whenever the time comes, I'm having enough grandchildren to spoil to my heart's content", Pascale clapped, getting up and heading to the outside area, "Oh, look at that sunset, it's beautiful!".

"So, no baby...", Charles trailed off, holding your hands in his, "I have to admit that, in a way, I'm relieved, because that would change up our lives a lot, especially with three babies in the family", he chuckled, "but when things are more settled, in a few years surely, we can start our family if you want to", he smiled charmingly, "of course, whenever the time comes. I love you, Charles, I love you so much", you smiled, "but, please, whenever that happens, don't coddle me like I'm a porcelain doll", you attempted, "Oh, that will have a to be another negotiation I'm afraid, amour".

[azure-firecracker]

Fic Rec Roundup!

In honor of my going off to college (my posts will be slowing down), and finishing 3 seasons of TXF, I asked y’all what sort of “special post” you wanted me to make. You voted on a roundup of some of my favorite TXF fics, so here it is! Prepare to watch me gush profusely about the phenomenal writers in this fandom.

This will be in chronological order, so first time watchers like me need not fear spoilers:)

I’m not including my own writing here, but you can find it in my masterpost.

Without further ado, let’s get into the fics!

Season 1:

starstruck by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 671 words): Set post-Pilot. The title says it all. This is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever read.

Something Bigger Than Us by Mungo_of_Maundery (General Audiences, 721 words): A nice coda to Deep Throat after Scully rescues Mulder from the air base. Internal monologue is great.

humans in nature by @theswisscheeserag (General Audiences, 2,733 words): Mulder and Scully’s conversations post The Jersey Devil. Philosophy mixed with fluff and some laugh-out-loud humor. Perfectly captures the vibe of early MSR.

Still Feeling My Father Ascend by @cecilysass (Teen and Up, 13,073 words): Mulder and Scully share some tender moments post Beyond the Sea. Both of them have a lot of healing to do, for different reasons. Some of my favorite MSR introspection can be found in this fic, and you can tell how much thought and care this author puts into the characterizations. There’s also several excellent funny moments - a true gem of a fic!

Egit Genius Loci by snow_and_rain (Teen and Up, 21,937 words): Case fic set right after Beyond the Sea. Featuring early-onset MSR, angst, mutual pining, and hurt/comfort. A little whimsical, a little eerie, a little sad.

Between Two Truths by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 1,621 words): Missing scene from E.B.E after Scully’s speech to Mulder. An excellent internal monologue from Mulder’s POV followed by some top-tier MSR banter.

the progression (and regression) of first names by skuls (Teen and Up, 5,421 words): A series of vignettes exploring Scully and Mulder’s relationship as it evolves throughout Season 1. Pitch-perfect Scully characterization and several moments that really showcase her inner conflict fantastically, but also many wonderfully tender MSR scenes (keep an eye out for the coffee scene - my favorite!)

never learned to read your mind by @swinging-stars-from-satellites (General Audiences, 1,071 words): An alternate version of Season 1 where Scully leaves after Deep Throat. Profound, heartwarming, wistful and a bit sad, this takes an interesting concept and really tugs at your heartstrings.

Season 2:

distractions by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 1,181 words): Post-abduction. Mulder does his best to help. Absolutely heart-melting, sweet and tender and a little sad too.

The Safety of Guilt by the_status_clo (Teen and Up, 732 words): Mulder’s guilt post-abduction. Do you like to feel miserable? Do you like to slip into a pit of unwavering guilt and wallow in beautiful words? Read this!

Redial by @theswisscheeserag (Teen and Up, 7,423 words): A frequent reread of mine! Set during Mulder and Scully’s quarantine post-Firewalker and told through a series of phone calls. This fic has everything you could possibly want: introspection, angst, fluff, humor, friendship and romance all mixed into one…it’s just really good in 1000 different ways. Endlessly rereadable.

until it heals by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,351 words): A post-Irresistible fic that captures all of the poetry, panic, and drama that is Season 2 MSR. Incredibly tender with some stunning inner monologue moments. A perfect coda to my favorite episode.

Authority and Gravity by Xecotcovach (Teen and Up, 2,338 words): Another excellent fic where Scully (with Mulder’s help) tries to deal with some of her season 2 trauma. Their dynamic here is very tender and their banter is just the right amount of sassy and quippy. Set after Fresh Bones.

If You’re Sinking, I Will Jump Right Over by SammyLovesASOIAF (Teen and Up, 1,642 words): An alternate version of End Game where things go…badly-but then Mulder has to confront his emotions!An interesting alternative, angst with a happy ending. Lovely poetic language; I have some lines from this that I remember word-for-word.

Our Town by @leiascully (Teen and Up, 813 words): Scully’s thoughts during and after the climax of Our Town. Very in-character, appropriately intense, really conveys the fear and desperation intertwined with Season 2 MSR.

Season 3:

Light in Dark Places by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 2,697 words): Set in Season 3 but it’s really about Irresistible and Scully’s insecurities in general. Peak hurt/comfort, this one makes your heart hurt in the best possible way, and then it feels like a warm hug with the resolution.

Got You(r) Back by @shearmouth (Teen and Up, 4,933 words): This is THE injury fic for me. Set post-731. The hurt/comfort levels in here are unmatched. Scully’s internal monologue is perfect. Mulder is an actual puppy and Scully takes care of him and it makes my heart melt in all of the right ways.

stay close, listen by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,667 words): Post Pusher. Very angsty, but in the best possible way and with an extremely satisfying resolution. This fic definitely wins best-written: it’s essentially poetry, and its uses of metaphor and literary references are stunning. I can’t recommend this enough.

find me defenseless by @impulsive-astrophile (Mature, 7,421 words): Case fic! Do you like Mulder torture? Do you like badass Scully? If so, you will love this fic because it has both in spades (plus-spoilers-a wonderful ending to make up for the pain). Whenever I’m fed up with the show’s kidnapping ratio, I read this: it’s probably my most frequent reread. I will say that it is more violent than anything I’ve written, so be aware.

Unconfirmed timing but spoiler-free:

unravelling by @actual-changeling (General Audiences, 2,208 words): Scully wakes up to a familiar voice theorizing on her television. What follows is as sweet and humorous as it is charged and just a little tragic.

Shakespirited by orphan_account (Teen and Up, 13,670 words): A fic that I’m pretty sure was written specifically for me. Mulder and Scully go undercover in a Shakespeare troupe plagued by strange murders. If you like TXF and are a Shakespeare nerd, you will love this. Definition of a good time (but there’s some angst too-how could there not be?) I think there are some minor spoilers in here, but nothing to really tell you anything as long as you’ve seen up to Anasazi.

Sometimes You Need to Have Fun by @baronessblixen (Teen and Up, 1,192 words): Fluff written by the queen of fluff herself! Mulder and Scully go ice skating. It’s as adorable and sappy as it sounds.

Stupid Cupid by @mulderwearingglasses (General Audiences, 5,325 words): A Valentine’s Day fic! This features jealous Scully (a delight) as well as some excellent humor and fluff. Overall just a lovely time. There may be some minor spoilers in here, but nothing that told me anything.

[hoedamn-eron]

lava rolls & caf in the mornings

Poe Dameron is a persistent bastard.

Warnings: Poe is bisexual (Taslet is a pilot in Blue Squadron). Themes of slut-shaming. Mentions of one night stands and sex. Worries of unrequited love. Mentions of fears of commitment. Small mention of parent death (both Poe and Reader). Some swearing. Lots of dialogue. Not proofread so there will be mistakes. It didn't go how I planned it, but I hope it's okay anyway! Word count: 3,821 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

From this request by anon. I apologise if this isn't what you expected!

The first time you had seen Poe Dameron was on a recruitment poster for the Resistance.

Your first impression was to scoff and comment on what a pretty boy he was, that the Resistance must really be struggling to get members if they’ve resorted to posters. But wherever you went, you couldn’t seem to escape them, and your eyes always wandered over the serious looking face of Poe Dameron, looking into the distance with those piercing eyes of his.

And the next thing you knew, you were signing up to join and you were shipped off to their base on D’Qar.

Thanks to your father (“You need a true skill to get yourself by.”), you were good with ships; not flying but fixing. You were immediately assigned to the mechanics, and you were soon tossed into the hustle and bustle of the day-to-day life of a Resistance member.

It was hard at first; you felt like you didn’t fit in. You tried to be friendly, really, but you weren’t there to make friends, you were there to win a war. You understand that companionship was one of the most important things in the Resistance (you needed to trust your team, and your team needed to trust you), but to the top dogs of the Resistance, you were just a mere mechanic that was there to fix their ships after a mission.

All of that changed when you actually met Poe.

He’d practically crashed his X-Wing on the tarmac and climbed out without a scratch on him, like it was no big deal. He was even smiling as the other Resistance members rushed over, expecting him to be half dead, and he even had the gall to ask, “Where’s the fire?”

“Your ship,” you’d replied, running over to help put said fire out.

“Ah,” he’d said, shrugging. “It’s just a scratch, it’ll buff right out.”

It did not, in fact, ‘buff right out’, and you knew this personally because you were the one assigned to help fix his ship.

And you say ‘help’, because Poe Dameron is a stubborn bastard, and likes things done his way, so he was constantly over your shoulder as you tried to fix his ship, but you both just ended up compromising, and he joined you. Once he’d cleaned up after his crash landing, you realised that he was as handsome as his posters, but he wasn’t as conceited as you thought he would be. Of course, he knew how good looking he was, but he was at least humble about it.

That’s how your friendship started.

He’d talked to you about your home planet, and he told you about his. You both – oddly – bonded over the deaths of your mothers. Where yours was but a few years ago, long after you were an adult, your heart broke for him when he revealed he was only 8 when his mother passed away. He’d told you that she was one of the reasons he loved flying so much.

Your friendship only grew more as he went out on more missions and requested for you to help fix his ship. Then it turned into inviting you out for drinks with him and his squad, then dinner together after a hard day working, and offers of going off world, to ‘check out that market’ that you’d heard so much about, and as they say; the rest was history.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen in love with him. It had slowly grown within you, like a flower blooming in the springtime; its roots weaved through your heart, seeking sustenance from every moment that you shared together. At first, it was subtle, like a faint whisper in the wind, barely noticeable, but you knew you felt…something. You put it down to kinship – he was your first friend in the Resistance and had taken you under his wing with no judgement. But you soon realised it was more than that.

You found yourself seeking him out, wanting to spend time with him. His laughter became the melody to which your heart danced, and his smile the sun that warmed your entire being. As days turned into nights and seasons changed, the love you felt for him deepened. Each day brought new discoveries, new reasons to cherish him. Love, it seemed, had quietly taken root and flourished, transforming your world in ways you could have never imagined, never imagined for yourself.

But then…he asked out that new pilot on Blue Squad, Taslet.

Then Tracey from droid repair.

Then that Twi’lek girl from the medbay…her name escapes you.

And you’ve come to realise that Poe Dameron would never settle down. He was too much of a free spirit or something of that kind. It hurt, to know that you would never really be together, but you would rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

And over your dead body Poe would ever find out about your feelings for him.

You’d been in the Resistance for two years now, and you have only grown closer to Poe, and gained more friendships with his squad. And you love him, you’ve established that, but you’re about to punch your best friend in the face.

“I said no, Poe,” you say to him.

“Come on,” he replied, giving an overexaggerated groan. “You haven’t dated a single person since coming here – “

“It’s almost as if I came here for a different reason other than dating around,” you say, rolling your eyes as you stomp your way into the hangar, where Poe had obviously put some damage to his ship, again, and now you had to fix it.

This time, it was just a paint job.

Poe whines your name. “Come on, let me set you up.”

“I’m not interested, Poe,” you say, giving him a laugh as you reach his X-Wing. “Besides, I don’t even think anyone here is remotely concerned in dating me.”

He pauses for a moment as you climb onto his wing, focusing your attention on the deep scratches that were left there by Maker knows what. You frown at them, knowing that there’s some matching X-Wing paint somewhere on base, when Poe’s next words throw you.

“I might know someone.”

Your eyes meet his, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity on your face. You merely raise an eyebrow at him.

He gives you a dopey smile. “I might be interested.”

“’Might’ be?” you ask him, your eyebrow still raised.

“Okay, I am definitely interested.”

Your eyes widen a little, your body tensing. He said it so casually. How is he not sweating? The thought of you admitting your feelings to him sets you on edge all the time, and you have to go to a quiet place to calm down. Yet here he was, just…just telling you.

“You’re not serious,” you say, giving a nervous laugh. You’re giving him the opportunity to take it back, to say he’s joking.

He’s not. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re good looking, you’re great to talk to, I trust you with my life, and my ship. You’re great with BB, why wouldn’t I want to date you?”

You snort in amusement. “You’re just saying all’a this – “

“No, I want to date you. Let me take you out.”

You look at him in disbelief, that smug grin on his face as he just…stands there, looking at you with his hands on his hips, as if he’d just told you how his day went.

You give a small laugh. “No.”

That wiped the grin off his face.

“Why not?” he asked, his brow furrowing, showing off that cute little crease between his eyebrows that you’d imagined yourself kissing away a million times.

You couldn’t answer that. It’s not because you didn’t know why, it’s because the reason might change your friendship forever. He was just teasing you, trying to make you feel better about ‘not dating anyone’. So you tell him so, that he’s just saying that because he’s just put his foot in it.

Poe shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not true – “

“You’ve literally been with every unavailable person on base, Poe,” you tell him.

“Be reasonable,” Poe said, giving you a look. “It’s not every available person.”

“It’s enough,” you say, giving him a grin. You hop down from his X-Wing, standing in front of him. “I think you’re a great guy, Poe, but you’re just…I wouldn’t date you.”

He looks at you still, with a determined look on his face.

You take his silence as a sign to continue. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but…but you…you’re – “

“You can call me a slut, it’s okay,” he says, grinning at you.

You shake your head immediately, reaching to run your hands through your hair in frustration, lightly gripping at your roots. “No, Poe, that’s not what I’m saying – “

“Then just spit it out,” he says, almost laughing in frustration. “It’s me.”

You sigh and drop your arms, before averting your gaze. “You’re not a relationship kind of guy. You date a lot and fuck around a lot, and that’s okay…for you. But that’s not…I don’t want that.”

Poe goes quiet as he studies you. He doesn’t say anything as you finally looked back at him, your cheeks warm and you shift uneasily from one foot to the other under his scrutinising gaze. His eyes, like pools of warm caramel, seem to pierce through you, as though probing into areas of thoughts you've long kept long hidden from him, and the world. A faint flicker of amusement dances at the corners of his lips, hinting at the secrets he might already have unravelled from you, and the look on your face. The silence between you stretches as the weight of his gaze continues to bear down on you.

You find yourself feeling self-conscious, as though you’ve been laid bare before him.

“I can be a ‘relationship kind of guy’,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching again in mirth. “For you.”

“Stop,” you say, shaking your head as you turn away from him, suddenly desperate to find that paint for his X-Wing.

“No, I won’t,” he said, having no problem keeping up with you, even when you sped up. “You won’t date me because…I’ve slept with a few people?”

“I just want something serious, Poe,” you say, sighing as you stop and turn around to look at him. “Like I said, it’s okay that you’re not. You can sleep with whoever you want. We’re in the middle of a war, there’s no room for relationships, right?”

Poe looks at you with an uneasy look on his face. “I’m trying really hard not to be insulted here.”

“No, this isn’t…” you heave a heavy sigh and rub your hands over your face. You feel stressed. This isn’t how you imagined your day going. It was supposed to be a slow day, there were no missions, no supply runs, where you could get on with the small repairs you’d been putting off.

But no. Poe had to try and convince you to go out on a date. With him.

“I’m not bothered that you’ve…that…to put it nicely, that you’ve fucked around, okay?” you ask. “I know you. I know you’re safe and use protection, you’re not an idiot. I get it. Commitment just isn’t your thing.”

You’re met with silence again. He’s just staring at you; the crease in between his eyebrows is back again. You both stand there for so long that you look around nervously, about to tell him that you’re going to find the paint for his X-Wing but he cuts you off before you could get another word in.

“I’m going to change your mind.”

You blink at him, your mouth falling open a bit. You weren’t expecting that.

“It’s nice that you don’t judge me for having sex. And I have had a lot of sex,” said Poe, grinning dopily at you. “But I’m going to prove to you that I can be serious. I can be serious with you.”

You shake your head, knowing that he won’t last as long as he thinks he will, before turning away from him. “We’ll see. Now help me find the paint for your X-Wing.”

Poe is persistent.

He’d greeted you at your door every day with a cup of caf, a lava roll, and a big smile, BB-8 usually spinning around at his feet, beeping at you happily. You’d walk together to the hangar, where you would share the lava roll.

He’d invite you to have lunch with him, where he’d ask you about your day so far, and you would tell him about the repairs you’d been assigned with that day.

At the end of the day, he’d walk you back to your quarters, where he would ask you out for dinner, as a date.

And you said no. Every time.

He would just grin at you and tell you he’d see you tomorrow.

Where he started the cycle again.

After the third week, you took a seat with Finn and Rey in the cantina for lunch – the first one without Poe since he was with the General for a mission debrief.

“Hi guys,” you greet them, placing your tray of food down as you sit opposite Finn. You tucked in immediately; you were starving.

“How’re you doing?” Rey asked you, a kind smile on her lips.

“Can’t complain,” you reply, shrugging. “You?”

“Not so bad,” she replied.

“You dating Poe yet?” Finn asked you.

You chuckled as you continued to eat your food. “Nope.”

“C’mon, put the guy out of his misery,” Finn said, smirking at you.

“Poe is fine,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, giving Finn a good-natured grin. “Stay out of it.”

“It’s sad,” teased Finn. “All he does is pout about how you won’t go out with him.”

“He’s doing it to prove a point,” you say. “He’s not serious.”

“Who’s not serious?” a voice asks behind you, and the three of you look up to see Jess and Karé joining you.

Rey told them how you were talking about you not accepting Poe’s offers of a date.

“You’re already dating him,” Jess said causally, taking a seat next to you as Karé sits opposite her and next to Rey.

You snort in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, giving you a pointed look. “He comes to get you every morning and you have lunch every day. That’s dating.”

“No, we did that all the time before,” you say. “We’re friends.”

“But you want more, right?” Karé asks, giving you a pointed look. “Because we’ve all seen how you look at Poe. It’s like he hung the stars.”

Your mouth falls open. “N-no! No, you’re wrong. He’s just…we’re just…”

“I don’t know why you’re so weird about it, he feels the same way,” Karé said, casually eating her food.

Your heart races as at her admission, and your stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. Your mind reels, grappling with disbelief. You find yourself questioning the authenticity of Karé’s words. She was just saying that. That’s the silliest thing you’ve ever heard. Poe doesn’t like you like that.

Does he?

It's too good to be true, isn't it? You've dreamt about this moment countless times in your time here, but now that it's supposedly happening, scepticism creeps in like a dark shadow, almost like a plague on your self-esteem. You feel all your insecurities come rushing to the surface, because your friends surely are only making you feel better about your unrequited feelings for Poe.

The thought of allowing yourself to believe it feels like stepping onto thin ice, afraid of it cracking beneath your feet. You've built up walls to protect yourself from disappointment, and now someone is asking you to tear them down based on a mere observation, from word of mouth. You don’t believe it.

“No he doesn’t,” you say finally.

“Honey,” Jess says, giving you a grin. “He’s been trying to get you to agree that you’re dating for weeks.”

“We’re not – “

“Stop, please, you’re giving us all a migraine,” Karé said, almost annoyed. “We all know you’re worried about his reputation, but why should it matter? He’s a good guy who enjoys intimacy, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s still the same Poe.”

“I don’t have a problem with it, it’s just…” you go quiet before sighing, then lean in. “What if, after a while, he realises I’m not what he wants? What if I’m too serious for him? Because I don’t date around.”

“You don’t think Poe will want to be in a relationship?” Rey asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nod. “I’ve talked about this with Poe, but he’s determined to prove me wrong.”

Your friends look at you silently, before Jess eventually shrugs at you.

“So let him.”

“Hey,” you call up to Poe, who was messing with the control panel of his X-Wing.

He looks at you at the sound of your voice before giving you a thousand-watt smile. “Hey there.”

“Can we talk? Please?” you ask.

Poe’s brow furrows in confusion but he wastes no time in climbing out of his X-Wing and standing in front of you, his look of confusion slowly melting into one of concern as he asks you what’s happened.

You’d been thinking about Karé’s words all day, and how your other friends hadn’t denied it. In fact, they seemed to agree. And after thinking about it…maybe they were right.

Maybe it's the way Poe smiles when he sees you, or the genuine warmth in his eyes when you talk. Perhaps it's the way he goes out of his way to spend time with you, or the way he laughs at your terrible jokes a little too eagerly. You had always thought he was just being friendly, but he…he didn’t act like that around the other who he’d slept with.

You’d started to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Karé was right all along. Maybe Poe did like you in the same way as you do with him. And in that moment of acceptance, a surge of exhilaration had coursed through your veins, and you suddenly found yourself in the hangar.

You refuse to let fear or doubt hold you back any longer.

“Okay,” you say, taking a breath as you look at him. “So this…this is going to be long so just…just stay with me please.”

Poe nodded. “Okay.” He places his hands on his hips as he looks at you.

Oh God, why does he always have to look so good. It wasn’t fair that the Maker made this man into a perfect specimen. A caring, wonderful, funny specimen.

“I just want you to know that I love you.”

Poe slowly smiles at you. “I love you too.”

“No, no,” you say, giving him a firm look. “I love you.”

He falters, his smile fading a little as he stared at you.

Your heart stops.

Oh, shit, everyone was wrong.

You start scrambling.

“I’m sorry to throw this on you,” you say quickly, trying to correct your mistake. “It’s just that you’ve been trying to get me to go on a date with you for weeks and I just thought it was for fun, you know? That it was a bit, but then I thought that maybe it wasn’t, that you were serious, that you actually want to take me out on a date – “

He interrupts you by calling your name, but you don’t hear him over your babbling.

“ – and I really want to go out with you, like so much, and I know I was a dumbass and thought that you couldn’t be sincere, since you…well, you know why, and I’m sorry that it came across as me being judgemental, because I was, a little bit – “

He tries to interrupt you again with your name.

“ – but I was an idiot and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t be serious enough for a relationship, I’m sorry for stringing you along for the last few weeks, it’s not fair on you, I should be more considerate to your feelings – “

He shouts your name, causing you to jump at the sudden volume. You look at him with wide eyes, breathless after your rant. You both stare at each other for a moment, and you can feel the panic claw at your throat at the unreadable look on his face. You can always know what Poe is feeling, what Poe is thinking, and it’s unnerving to know that you don’t know what’s going to happen.

Eventually, he reaches out to you, and holds you by your upper arms. “What’s brought this one?”

“Karé told me you like me,” you say quickly. “In a like-like way.”

Poe looked at you for a moment before he broke into a grin and started chuckling to himself.

Now you look confused.

“You are a dumbass,” he says, still laughing.

You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. Listen,” Poe says, giving a dramatic sigh as his hands slides down your arms and hold your hands. “I’m not going to lie, it did hurt when you said you wouldn’t date me because I’d…slept around. I understand, though, that it can be a little much.”

You bite your lip nervously before looking at the floor, shamefully.

“Hey, no, don’t look away,” said Poe, before grinning when you look back up at him. “I want you to know that you mean the world to me. And more. And I love you too.”

You give him a slow, dopey smile.

“And although you’ve been ‘stringing me along’ for a weeks,” he says, giving you a teasing look, causing you to giggle. He gives your hands a squeeze. “I still love you and want to date you. Now, will you go out on a date with me?”

You grin excitedly before nodding. “Yes, I will go out on a date with you.”

“Finally!” said Poe, grinning at you. “I was starting to lose faith in myself!”

“I just don’t want to miss out having a lava roll first thing, they’re always the first to go,” you say teasingly, pulling him towards you as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He immediately slid his arms around you too.

It felt food. Natural. Like you were meant to be doing this the whole time.

“Oh so you don’t want me to be with you for love, you just want me to bring you lava rolls and caf every morning,” Poe teases back.

You grin and nod. “Mhm.”

“Now I know where I stand.”

“Bet all your other partners will be upset they’ll never get lava rolls and caf.”

“They never got them anyway.”

[lost-technology]

SEEDS Security Codes and Why They Matter

So, I've been thinking about one of the details in Trigun: Stampede that was not present in either '98 or the manga. In '98, Knives just hacking into the SEEDS codes was left as-is. He walked up to Captain Joey and shot him and apparently took his pilot's seat. Did the Captain have the navigation open at the time? Was it closed and Knives had to do some hacking? Anyway, there, he did it on his own. Now, in Trigun Maximum, which treats Vash and Knives' childhood differently (just Rem there raising them), there is a foreshadowing of what is to come. In Volume 6, Rem is depicted waking up to an emergency signal in the middle of her sleeping-hours. (Aw, she sleeps in her regular clothes, mom-jeans and all...). Panicked, she yells at Knives for him and Vash to lock themselves in their rooms and not to come out or speak up for ANY reason, even if they hear voices outside. She tries to handle the situation, but it goes from bad to worse and the automatic crew-wakening protocol goes into effect, which she is very concerned about (for reasons that we who have read the manga know about)!

In the beginning of Volume 7 the crew wakes up, there's a situation-update. The ships are going off-course and will collide if things are not corrected. They're working through the issues and suddenly, there's an unknown factor that kicks in to correct the course. Rem then gets the crew all settled back in again for nappy-time... And proceeds immediately to Vash and Knives, where she scolds Knives with (Rem's angry mom-face, my beloved)! Knives was playing around with the ship codes and systems. He'd apparently hacked his way into the system and was curious about SEEDS' functions. (One would assume that Rem changed some of the codes after this, but I bet they were in some kind of hacking-war, with her trying to stay one step above curious Plant-twins). Knives did not mean to nearly cause a catastrophe, but this shows that he can and is a foreshadowing to when he DOES mean to cause one later. Now, in Trigun Stampede, it is stated by Nai / Knives that Vash gave him the ship-codes, also that he spent a lot of time and trouble changing the codes for every human ship. (The manga lists the ship they are born on as the Mothership, presumably guiding the entire fleet, in Stampede, it is just Ship 5, which implies multiple guides with multiple navigators). I am wondering where Studio Orange is going with this. Will it be a situation like the manga where the kids are just playing around? Little prank-war with Rem? Maybe Vash is sharing a ship code innocently, as part of their games? Or is it going to be darker, more sinister? I wonder if Vash was originally of the thought of "maybe we need to crash the ships and kill all humans (except Rem) because they're scary and dangerous because of what happened to Tesla" and then had a change of heart and backed out of it? - I can see that happening... him having his cathartic alone-time with Rem as in the manga and then talking things out with Nai and thinking that they weren't going to go through with it. And then Nai betrays him. I've been wondering about the guilt Vash carries over the Big Fall in Stampede. Is it an unnecessary, undue guilt like he seems to have about a lot of things? Or is there a guilt born from "I had originally planned disaster / we had originally planned disaster" and it came true even after he'd backed out? It's just that... in both '98 and Maximum, he does carry his cross (that is not Wolfwood's), but he seems to feel less specifically guilty over this (the Big Fall). He's really more like "Knives, how could you do this to everyone / Rem?!" He just seems more guilt-ridden in Stampede than in the other media and I am wondering if there is a dark secret behind it. I can see it going either way.

[nanabansama]

Tsukasa's Winter Uniform

Many people forget, but Tsukasa has appeared in TBHK since the very first chapter. He even shows up before Kou, less you count the pilot adaptation.

The odd thing is, despite Tsukasa later confirming he only wore the winter uniform to match his older brother, Tsukasa shows up in the winter uniform much earlier than their fated rooftop encounter. About a month earlier, at least.

If that weren't enough, he even shows up wearing it in the reflection of Hanako's knife, implying he wore it when he died.

Previously I guessed this was done because AidaIro hadn't finalized the designs of Amane (specifically, alive!Hanako) and Tsukasa yet, but upon further reflection I like to think it was to wordlessly show the deep connection between Hanako and Tsukasa. To leave hints for the reader, and keep them second-guessing.

I mean, who's to say the character handling the radio in Chapter 1 wasn't Hanako? It's unlikely with what we know now, but it's something a lot of people probably thought when they first read it. And I think that's kind of brilliant, given that the twins are mirror images of each other in everything except clothes. When we can't see Tsukasa's identical face, it only makes sense to give them the same clothes.

It's interesting when Tsukasa first shows up on the rooftop, too. Tsukasa has a few differences between himself and his twin, but in this encounter he shares much of the same traits. He lacks his pointy teeth and you can't even see his eyes till the end, which don't even look particularly Tsukasa-like.

The only true major difference is his kokujoudai and the black seal, which really lack any individuality at all... they are just black-colored versions of Hanako's own seal and tsueshiro. It's a very interesting choice; the least I can say is Tsukasa really went all out in matching his brother.

In some ways, it's a bit underwhelming for his face reveal. In others, it's not: I mean, Hanako's murder victim literally shares his face! What a compelling surprise! I can only imagine AidaIro was trying to emphasize this.

Later, Tsukasa returns to the broadcasting club room and catches up with Natsuhiko and Sakura. This is where his individuality begins to shine.

He changes into his hakama outfit, his pupils get tiny or his eyes go completely black, and while not every panel has them he's drawn with his signature pointy canines in a few.

His personality changes, too. You get to see Tsukasa's more childlike, innocent side. He's so much more serious when he's with Hanako, you feel a lot of tension and maybe even resentment there. But here, he becomes so carefree. While the rooftop has him feeling more like a spectre of Hanako's guilt rather than his own person, here it really sinks in that this is not just some recolored Hanako we're dealing with.

On that note, I find it interesting the twins seem more carefree when they're away from each other... hmm...

Anyway, one thing I like about this era of Tsukasa is the art AidaIro made of him. I'm a big fan of early TBHK art, and the matching baggy winter uniforms really look nice together.

I like how this art emphasizes a sort of perverted sentimentality between the two of them. They can't help reaching out to each other. I like how Hanako distinctly doesn't look happy either, something Tsukasa inquires when they meet again. He looks distressed, helplessly so. And he is: he can't break away from his guilt of killing Tsukasa, nor Tsukasa himself, who is content to keep eating away at him while he still can, knowing Amane will be his doom. It's mutual self-destruction--They can't live with each other, can't live without each other...

My love for chapter frontispieces aside, thanks for reading this far! I used to not have much appreciation for Tsukasa's winter uniform but I've come to love its symbolism a lot more as time has gone on. Perhaps I'm reading too deep into things, but what do you think?

Also before anyone tries to tell me the Chapter 17 frontispiece isn't Tsukasa allow me to introduce you to the top right corner:

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Sinner’s Demon Designs vs. Their Human Designs—

I’ll start off by saying I’m not trying to shame anyone or say these design choices are bad-it’s just something I’ve noticed about Helluva Boss’ character design choices that struck me as odd considering Hazbin Hotel’s character designs-specifically the designs of the “Sinners” or characters that were once human.

More than anything I just think it’s interesting, and am trying to examine the character designs from a world-building perspective.

So, since rewatching HB, I’ve realized that the Sinner Versions we see of Human characters are pretty close in design to their Human selves.

It’s very easy to tell these are the same characters. They’re all the same proportions with the same face shapes, and have similar silhouettes. (Critique continues below)

Now, this could change for Hazbin Hotel (and maybe there already are canon human designs for the HH sinners that I couldn’t find?) but in my opinion, most of the designs don’t translate well to what their human forms might have looked like. There’s of course exceptions to this, with the more humanoid demons, but with demons like Angel Dust, Husk, and Sir Pentious, I assume their human forms look almost nothing like their demon selves.

I think the main reason for this probably boils down to the Hazbin cast having established designs way before the series was created, but I feel this has created a problem where there are SOMETIMES rules for why Sinners look the way they do, and sometimes the designs seem completely random.

I’ve read that the way that sinners are designed is based partially on the way they die, and if that’s true, there doesn’t seem to be any rules or guidelines on WHEN to convey that—Mrs. Mayberry’s sinner form doesn’t particularly hint towards her death in any way in my opinion, but it’s VERY clear that the counselor died via drowning/water.

This wouldn’t be a huge issue on its own, but the creators have stated multiple times that Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel take place in the same universe. The rules for why characters are designed the way they are should be clear visually, but the designs of the Hazbin cast have always seemed random and confusing to me personally.

It looks like the majority of the Hazbin cast are designed after animals, but that’s not always clear either.

I didn’t realize that Angel was supposed to be a spider until I was explicitly told that was what he was, and I thought Alastor was an Owl based character due to his hair looking like a great horned owl’s feather tufts, and because his antlers were so small and dark that I didn’t notice them until I watched the pilot the first time. It’s possible the first drafts of these designs looked more like the animals they’re supposed to be based on, but if you don’t know all of the backstory or haven’t been following the creators, I’m not sure how you’re supposed to recognize these things.

Overall, I don’t think it’s a BAD thing to have a cast of characters that have very different designs, or don’t have very clear design rules for their universe. But in my opinion, having this big of a difference in the Sinner’s character designs when all of these characters are supposed to share the same universe really confuses things.

More than anything though I just found this sort of interesting. I’d be interested to hear more about the process of designing sinner characters, and to see what more sinners look like outside of the main cast that was initially designed several years ago.

Also please don’t send me hate—I like Helluva Boss, and I’ll probably like Hazbin Hotel. I just enjoy critiquing and examining the stuff I like and I’ve been on an HB kick since I rewatched the series recently and while watching this just occurred to me and I wanted to talk about it.

[spctrsgf]

rocks and faulty plans

summary: you and poe make an unexpected stop to a rocky planet. with a broken ship.

-> based off this prompt

words: 1.3k

a/n: heeeeeeeey guys 😅😅 i will be more active soon I PRAY but here is a silly drabble i wrote i miss my silly space pilot :((

You’re not really sure why you even listened to him in the first place. You knew that beside all of his cockiness, he had some sort of planning skills and a desire to not kill the both of you, but it wasn't all that apparent in your current situation.

The rocky terrain of the planet you'd landed on– an unplanned detour– was harder to navigate than you'd thought when you were back on the ship. Despite this fact, your companion was already several steps ahead, trekking along the curve of a particularly large rock.

You groan loudly, hoping he hears your disdain as you tug on the collar of your jumpsuit and double your speed to catch up to him. The burst of energy from your fiery anger is, much to your dismay, hardly enough to last for longer than twenty seconds. A burn in your leg ignites the gravel beneath your feet, sending you stumbling.

���You okay down there?” Calls that ever so taunting tone. You glare up at his figure, backlit by the red sun. Still several steps ahead. “Oh fuck off, would you?” You snap, glancing down at the beads of blood forming along the scrape of your leg. 

He laughs. “It's okay, baby, it happens to all of us. Even me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. 

He shrugs back. How does he manage to admit fault cockily?

“Using pet names to hide your concern, I see.”

He tuts, but says nothing to dispute your claim, heading towards you. 

“I can get up myself, Poe.” You snarl at him.

“I think the rocks would beg to differ.”

“Would it kill you to not tease me?”

He grins. “In an instant.”

You roll your eyes, but grab the hand he had extended out to you and let him help you up. He pulls you forward, seemingly only letting go of your hand when he realized he had been holding it for so long. The two of you trek together to the top of the rock, not sharing anything but the oxygen during sharp breaths. 

It was a weirdly serene moment with him. Poe wasn't necessarily a man of little or many words, but it wasn't often that you saw him comfortable in the silence. Especially in your current… predicament. You’d half expected him to spend the whole adventure talking your ear off about the ten billion plans you knew he had thought of, but he remained quiet.

You suppose you could chalk it up to the view. It was nothing short of breathtaking. The small town below was bustling about, nestled among the rocks that spiked out of the ground. The light from the sun cast a loving red sheen on the whole scene, cupping the inhabitants and painting them friendly. It was difficult to even consider looking away from. 

Yeah, that was probably Poe’s silencer.

You smile, letting him bask in the scenery before you shove his shoulder, beginning to head towards the town. “C’mon, pretty boy, stop gawking and get a move on! We don't have all day.” He scoffed. “I was not gawking, it's just-” he runs a hand down his face, “it's been a while since I've seen a view like that.”

“Space just isn't quite like this, is it?” 

“Not quite. A lot more black.” He says, finally catching up to you.

You snort. “That's true. It's calming in its own way, isn't it?”

“Yeah. If it weren't for our current situation, I’d spend a couple days here. Nice vacation.”

“You deserve that.” The words leave your mouth before you can take a second to think about them. Shit.

But Poe doesn't tease, he just smiles wide. “Thank you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “But, back to business-”

“Here we go."

“Hey!” You glare, and he quickly quiets. “What are we gonna do? Just ask one of these people if they can walk however long with whatever tools they need to fix our ship?”

“Well, that was plan D in my extensive list of ideas.”

“Oh, and what about the other ones?” You indulge, curious.

“Well, plan A was to not crash on the planet in the first place, but you can see how well that went.” He grumbles.

“We tried our best.”

“I know,” he sighs, running a hand down his face, again. “Rest of my plans weren't quite as good.”

“Doubt that. Let's try plan E.” You quip, seeing how close the two of you were to the town.

He shrugs easily. “Let's.” 

You watch him gather his confidence and paint it across his face, and with that, the two of you make your way into the town. You trail a few steps behind him, letting “plan E” fall into place. He makes his way into a bar, leaning against the counter and motioning for you to do the same.

As you copy him, he leans over, whispering, “just go with it, okay?” You nod, locking your jaw to stop yourself from yelping when his hand wraps around your waist. “Hey, bartender!” He yells, catching their attention. “What can I get for you today, sir?” 

“My fiancé and I are here trying to get to the next planet in your system, but our ship crashed. Would you happen to have something that could help us?”

The bartender tilts his head to the side. “You do realize this is a bar, right?”

“I’m willing to bet you see most of this town here. So if anyone knows of someone who can help us, it's you.”

“Sure, a lot of people come in here, but I just serve drinks. Can I get you two anything?”

“Sir, please-”

“Listen here, outsider,” the bartender leans over the counter, and you can smell the alcohol he'd surely downed earlier. “I’ve been gracious enough to not kick you two out of my bar as soon as you didn’t place an order, because you and your fiancé seem like respectable people. But this is a busy bar, so if you're not going to buy a drink, get the fuck out of my bar before I have someone make you.”

“All we need is one address!”

“Last chance, sir.” The man gnarls at you two.

“Okay,” you jump in, taking Poe’s hand off your waist and pulling him away from the bartender. “Thank you for your help!”

You drag the two of you out of the bar before either man could exchange any more malicious words. Poe struggles, clearly trying to make his plan work. It was obvious he had more things to say– or do– to the bartender, but eventually he gives in to your pulling, trailing behind you. 

“So much for plan E.” You grumble as soon as you aren't in earshot of the bar. “I could have made that work! He would've listened to me.” Poe grumbles right back. 

“You and I both know that isn't true.” 

He sighs. “Yeah.”

“What is it with him anyways?” You question, making sure your voice was low and there wasn't anyone around before continuing. “He was so much meaner than anyone else we've seen.”

“Bad day, maybe? They could not get many visitors here.”

“Or too many.” You add in.

He smiles. “Or too many. Maybe he's struggling to make ends meet.”

“That's also true,” you sigh in defeat. “But it doesn't solve our problem.”

He shakes his head. "Let's just move on to plan F. F stands for fabulous."

"The way all your other plans have worked out so far, I would assume F also stands for failure." 

“Hey!” He yelps, glaring. 

You giggle. “Joking. Plan F it is! What do you need me to do?”

His smile made what some would call a shit eating grin.

You groan. “Oh no.”

Well, the two of you definitely made it off the planet in record time. With nothing more than you came with, other than a bounty on your heads.

No biggie.

someone yell at me to write my reqs bye

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

vi. do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

— the one where he ain't reading what they call you lately.

warnings: anxiety tics and symptoms, i–unironically–listened to the lakes a lot while writing this. 3k words.

masterlist ✢ next

By Marie Nichols

The first news we got about actress y/n y/ln's new romance came at the start of this month, when she was seen at the Miami Grand Prix with Ferrari's sponsor Elix. What appeared to be only rumors, since y/n and Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc were single at the same time, have been confirmed little by little.

Although it is not like y/n to soft-launch a relationship, she's been hinting at it for several weeks now. From staring lovingly at her new boyfriend as he receives the winner's trophy in Monaco's Grand Prix to instagram posts saying she 'feels like a princess', the last confirmation we needed came yesterday when Twitter went crazy over user @/formulacharles' picture of the new couple, on a romantic date around Monaco.

Opinions are divided on this couple as both #y/nIsOverParty and #YNCHARLES trended at the same time. Most of the negative views on this flourishing romance come from Aidan Kim's fans, who claim it has been happening since before Kim and y/ln broke up around March after dating for three years.

We have gathered some of the best tweets from both sides, to help us make up our minds about the whole situation.

❝@/aidankimluv: I can't believe y/n is rubbing her new relationship in everyone's faces like this! she can't be single and it shows❞

❝@/gr4ndekim: the timing still rubs me off the wrong way, this has been happening for way longer than she wants us to know❞

❝@/ynselixcan I need y'all to touch grass for a second and realize men and women can be friends, and if they are dating it's none of your business anyway❞

❝@/leclercsdiary: they are cute together but tbh without knowing much about y/n... i don't want her to mess with charles' head❞

We are still hoping for an official confirmation, although pictures speak for themselves. Will y/n ever be brave enough to admit she dumped Aidan Kim for a Formula 1 pilot? We'll keep you updated!

FROM F1GOSSIPXO ON TIKTOK: "FANS CAUGHT Y/N AND CHARLES ON A DATE IN MONACO"

[text to speech assistant voice]: ❝(...) someone on twitter took this picture of them at a famous rose garden in Monaco and the second clip is charles dropping y/n off back at her hotel. i guess all the rumors are true and we have a new grid couple... a frankly problematic couple at that.❞

May 30th, Montecarlo, Monaco.

It was, in all honesty, a little dumb to believe that you could keep it lowkey if you were going to hang out with Charles.

First, Victoria who normally remembers close to nothing about the nights she gets drunk, remembered perfectly the 'moment' you shared with Charles when he offered to show you around. The whole rebound conversation happened again, much to your dismay.

Then, there was the car. Charles' custom Pista Spider is quite literally, the opposite of lowkey and apparently the only option he was willing to offer for you two to move around Monaco.

Which makes perfect sense, no matter how much you hate it.

There was also the timing. Which was really, really bad, and you blame your ignoring this on the fact that you had a lot to drink the night you said yes to his offer. On a normal basis Charles is the most sought after person in Monaco, him being the Grand Prix winner from two days before, multiplied the attention by a million.

Yet when he called you on Monday night to make sure you were still up for the next day, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. He was being nice and friendly, and you had no reason to deny him other than the anxiety you felt in the back of your neck every time you thought about what people would say if they found out.

And people would find out, sooner or later.

But you are not committing a crime, you tell yourself in front of the mirror. Charles is becoming your friend, which is something you really, really need at this point in your life. Granted, befriending the guy that you’re tangled up in rumors with isn’t the best idea, it’s neither your fault nor his.

So you take a deep breath and fix your hair for the last time before leaving your hotel room. Charles called you a few minutes before to let you know he is waiting in the lobby, and you can feel your palms sweating already.

Charles is nodding attentively to a child with a Ferrari cap who is telling him all about his Monaco GP experience when you step out of the lift.

He waves at you, and his eyes register your appearance in seconds before they return to the child.

“This is my friend y/n,” he tells the little boy as you approach. “She’s a huge Ferrari fan, too.”

The boy smiles brightly and his focus shifts to you, asking what your favorite part of the Grand Prix was and whether you think they can win in Spain. You give him the best answer you can come up with, that the best part was seeing Charles win (to which both Charles and the boy smile) and that yes, you believe it’s Carlos’ turn to win his home race.

Once Charles finishes signing his merch and he makes sure the kid has returned to his parents safely, his whole attention is devoted to you.

“You are really pretty,” he smiles, his accent coming out in the way he pronounces “pretty”.

Lowkey is the word of the day, and that’s also what you had in mind when picking your outfit. A sage green sundress with matching short-heeled shoes. Nothing too garish, but that still makes you feel confident.

“Thank you, you look good yourself.”

It’s a half-assed compliment that comes out of your mouth out of sheer anxiety. He looks incredibly handsome in a light blue shirt that brings out the blue in his eyes and a decent pair of jeans instead of the horrible ones he wore on Sunday.

Charles smiles wider, "Thank you, y/n."

You bite the inside of your cheek in embarrassment, and Charles' eyes go small in amusement.

"Are you ready?" he asks, ending your torment as you feel heat creep up your neck. Charles hesitates in offering his arm to you, and instead puts his palm out for you to walk in front of him.

You nod, starting the walk towards the exit. His car is right outside the door to the hotel, and there are people surrounding it, taking pictures and craning their necks to look inside. It's your turn to hesitate as you stop in your tracks, Charles' chest millimeters away from your body as he comes to an abrupt stop and avoids crashing into you.

"Let me," he says, his semblance more serious as he moves you aside gently. The doorman nods at him and opens the door.

Your anxiety rises as Charles leads you out of the hotel, apologizing in both French and Italian about not taking pictures as he opens the car door for you.

He continues smiling and saying 'thank you' and 'i'm sorry' as he walks around the car, to the driver's seat and climbs inside. The car offers little protection from the outside, but you're grateful for whatever refuge. It's not like you to act like this, but wherever your name appears on the internet lately is full of vile stuff. The mere thought of it makes your hands shake, you're afraid of what they're going to say this time.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, watching you put your hands on your lap, palms down so the skirt of the dress wipes your sweat.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reassure, more to yourself than to him. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Charles smiles again, shoulders relaxing as he steers the car away from the crowd.

You look at him, feigning insecurity and he frowns for a moment before you chuckle. "Don't worry, I love surprises."

"What do you think of Monaco so far?" he asks, squeezing the wheel a couple times. If you didn't know better, you'd think he is nervous too.

"Are you kidding? It's beautiful. The Grand Prix was something else, and everywhere I look there's luxury." You gesture around, but the prime example is the car you're riding right now, and the driver who's wearing a $2 million watch.

Charles laughs and nods, "It never stops being beautiful, no matter how much time you spend here. I miss it every time I'm away."

You understand. Because you miss New York so much, it doesn't matter how overrated people say it is. It's become your home and you hate being away from it, especially considering the circumstances that exiled you.

The very good thing about Monaco is that car rides are short. So when you get to your destination, you've barely had time to make things awkward with small talk.

You wait patiently for him to walk to your door and open it once you’ve parked. Charles has put on a pair of sunglasses and you think it’s a shame you can’t see his blue eyes anymore. You discard this thought immediately though, you’re not going to think like this about someone you’re befriending.

“So?” You ask taking his hand as he helps you out of the car. “What place were you so keen on showing me?”

Charles holds on to your hand for a moment too long, and you stare down at them. He lets go, repeating the gesture from earlier to let you walk in front.

“It’s a rose garden,” he begins explaining, leaning a bit forward so he doesn’t raise his voice. “The Princess’ Rose Garden, I saw your picture saying you felt like a princess. I thought you would like it.”

You turn around to face him and this time he isn’t quick enough to avoid crashing in to you. So much for an F1 Pilot’s reflexes.

“You’re not allergic to flowers are you?” He questions, the panicked undertone makes you smile. “y/n?”

“No!” You throw your head back laughing, “I just think it’s adorable how you related the ideas.”

There is a newly installed shade of pink in Charles’ cheeks and he runs a hand through his hair, sheepish. “Well, I’m glad I got it right.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you are genuinely so excited so clap your hands a little. “The Princess’ Rose Garden! Let’s go!”

Charles still lets you lead, following wherever you go and translating whatever signs aren’t in English already. He too, is genuinely happy to see you so bubbly and excited as you marvel at the colors of the flowers and the arches, and the statues. He’s proud of himself for picking the right place.

“Let me take a picture of you,” he says, as you walk through a white arch speaking excitedly about how this reminds you of Alice in Wonderland. “y/n?”

You look at him over your shoulder with a smile and he snaps the picture before you can react properly or pose.

“Oh no Charles, delete that!” You whine, walking back to him to look at his phone.

“No, you look perfect,” he replies, showing you his screen. “See?” He does not regret a word that has come out of his mouth and it makes you pause, face warming up at the statement.

“Let me take a picture of you, then,” you say, pointing him towards the arch. He’s quick to comply, walking towards the arch and smiling at you, without looking at the camera.

You show him the screen of your phone and he seems satisfied with the picture, as he doesn’t ask you to retake it.

“Should we go down to the lake?” He asks signaling down the path.

You nod, putting your phone back in your purse and resisting the temptation to look at the notifications that crowd your lock screen.

Charles takes your hand once again as you arrive at the lake.

"You might slip in the grass," he explains, clearing his throat.

"Right," you chuckle, but he's right, the little hill you have to pass to get to the edge of the lake looks like a worthy rival to your heels. You know who'd be losing. "Thanks."

You sit down so close your shoulders are touching, but neither moves or speaks for a few minutes. Taking in the way the golden hour falls in the garden, the sun reflects off the surface of the lake and colors your face amber.

You're glad Charles has removed his sunglasses, because you can see his eyes again. The green is more visible now thanks to the golden in the environment.

"Thanks for bringing me here," you finally break the silence, "I really like it."

"I'm glad, y/n," he says, both dimples showing as he smiles. "I'm sorry I couldn't show you more places, though."

All Monday and a big part of today he was busy with interviews and photoshoots, all to celebrate his breaking the Monaco curse. You don't mind, he deserves to be celebrated.

"Maybe another time," you add.

"Whenever you want," his smile widens, and you have to look away from him. Your brain is swarmed in thoughts of how pretty he is, and you wish you could just leave it blank for a minute or two. "Thank you for agreeing to come."

The impulse of saying something that will ruin the mood is greater than your self-control, and curiosity keeps eating you from the inside since last Thursday.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Charles nods calmly, resting his chin on his hand as he faces you. "Anything."

"Do you really not care about... well, what everyone is saying?"

Charles tilts his head slowly, and frowns. "About what?"

"Me. You. Us." you whisper the last word, embarrassed. It feels a lot like 'Us' means something completely different than just being thrown together in a hurriance of wild rumors and lies.

"I don't," Charles doesn't even hesitate, "I don't read all of that. Carlos keeps me up to date, which is ridiculous."

You pinch your thigh lightly, ashamed that even his teammate knows everything that's been said about you.

It's the first time all evening that Charles wishes he could take his words back. "What I mean," he continues quickly, "Is that I don't let people on the internet form my opinion on someone, you, especially."

You return your gaze to him, "I'm sorry people have dragged you into this."

"You don't have to apologize for things that aren't your fault, y/n."

"Well, it does feel like it's my fault." You admit, and you hate the way your eyes sting, you don't want to cry in front of Charles. You really are ruining the whole mood.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" Charles is more serious now, trying to catch your avoidant eyes as you blink the tears away. "Something you want me to say? Because I will."

You shake your head no. You don't want him to actively participate in this mess, it's a PR nightmare and Ferrari and him have enough on their plates already.

"Unless you want to say something, Charles."

"There is a lot I want to say," he mutters through gritted teeth, and you're not quite sure what he means.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he repeats, more lighthearted this time. "And stop whatever it is that you're reading about yourself, too."

"I'm not—"

Charles shuts you down with a look, there is no point in lying to him when, like Mati, he's weirdly capable of seeing right through you.

"You're sweet and talented, and hard-working, and many other positive things I'm hoping to continue witnessing first-hand." He speaks so fast his accent slips in several words.

"Thank you." you say sincerely, and you reach for his hand for the first time ever, giving it a squeeze before letting it go, something he accepts albeit reluctantly.

You sit together for a while longer, the awkwardness from your previous moments together alone is a distant idea, as you don't need to fill the silence anymore. Charles doesn't make your hands sweat in the way that feels wrong, your fingers don't prickle or go numb, your heartbeat—although fast—doesn't make your chest feel tight.

It's okay, you remind yourself, Charles likes you enough.

"Hello?" you're taking your shoes off, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder.

"y/n!" Vic yells, making you wince, your phone clatters to the floor and you're glad the rug breaks the fall. "Are you back from your date?"

"It was not a date, Vic," you opt to put her on speakerphone, "And yes, I'm back."

"How was it? I saw on Twitter that you were in a garden? Was it cute?"

You sigh, of course this is on Twitter already. "Vic, I'm so serious right now, stop with the Twitter stuff."

"Sorry y/n," she sighs, her tone like a regretful child apologizing to their mom. "But my timeline is just full of them, honestly, I wish I could just reply to people and tell them to back off."

"Just ignore them, please, Vic,"

"I promise. But how was it, your not date?"

"It was great," you immediately regret the sigh that escapes your lips. "Charles is very nice, and the place was super pretty. We went to dinner after which was pretty cool too."

"That is a date, y/n," Vic giggles, "That's amazing! I'm glad you had a good time."

"Thank you," you let yourself fall back on the bed. It was not a date. The anxiety that Charles had helped soothe is back now, it feels like cold water running down your back. "What about you, what did you do today?"

It's 10 pm in Monaco, which means it's around 1 pm in Los Angeles.

Vic starts going off about her day, how she hates the smell of the new face cream she was supposed to release to the public two weeks ago, her trip to the gym with Holly and that other girl whose name you finally learn again—Deanna.

"When are you coming back to LA?" she asks.

You're picking up your stuff from around the room, you have to take a flight tomorrow and you'd rather sleep in, than wake up early to finish your packing.

"Soon I hope," you yawn. It makes no difference to you, spending time in hotel rooms and Vic's house, neither are home. So you're not rushing to go back to her.

"y/n, you promised you'd be here for the opening of the store," Vic is serious now. "You promised."

Closing your eyes, you battle that uncomfortable feeling on your hands. You're sure that you won't get any proper sleep if it doesn't go away.

The opening of Vic's first Presley Beauty store is on Friday, the same Friday you're going to be in Spain.

"I know Vic, I'm sorry. But I have to be with Elix, violating a contract at this point is not a good idea."

"Babe, you said you'd be the ambassador for the first store. People will come if you're there!"

You're not too sure of that right now. Maybe people would show up to throw tomatoes at you, if anything.

"I really am sorry, Vic."

She falls silent on the other side for a few minutes, and you continue packing, waiting for her to gather her feelings. You know you're in the wrong here, breaking a promise to your best friend, but you'd rather not mess up the only job you have right now. Plus, you are certain the publicity her very first store would get from you wouldn't be a good one right now.

"Okay, apology accepted," Vic exhales so hard it makes the microphone crackle. "But you do have to come to the store later, PROMISE ME."

"I promise. I'll be back in LA next Monday and I'll go straight to your store and steal everything."

Vic laughs and you're glad her anger has vanished.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? After I land in Spain."

"Sure babes," Vic is her cheerful self again, "Have fun and also, say hello to Charles for me."

You roll you eyes. "Bye Vic, love you."

"I love you too, babe."

For the first time in days, you turn your phone off before getting ready for bed. You are not going to scroll endlessly through hashtags with your name. You're not going to read what they're calling you lately, because your friends—at least some of them— aren't.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello hello, thank you for reading! i hope you've enjoyed this chapter. The slow burn is slow burning friends. I would love to know your thoughts.♡❞

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[violentdelightsandviolentends]

For Eternity. (A Sequel to The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

This is a sequel to The Orange, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone <3

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, a little smooching

Word Count - 2614

Author's Note - hi, me again. I hope you enjoy this part 2 of The Orange. I loved that first fic so much, and whenever I go to write Jake, it seems to occur in that universe, so I thought why not make a sequel just as sweet as the first. as always, requests or thoughts, send them my way. all my love x

Masterlist. Requests.

Jake Seresin has always been an awful dancer. Like, seriously, genuinely, terrible. It was one of the main reasons, it turns out, that you fell in love with him.

Upon first glance, Jake seems perfect. Ken Doll perfect. Cover of Vogue perfect. Carved by the Gods perfect. He’s stunningly handsome, ridiculously charming, and one of the best fighter pilots the US Navy has ever seen. He seems almost too good to be true.

Then you see him dance. And you realise that maybe he isn’t quite as perfect as you first thought. It makes you love him 10 times more.

It hasn’t stopped him, though. The two of you have spent countless nights gliding around your kitchen in your socks, slipping this way and that, jumping to the beat of the 90’s R&B that Jake loves so much. On more than one occasion, he’s twirled you around like a ballerina in a music box, sending you both flying precariously into the counters. Strong arms come up to wrap around your middle, steadying you always. He’ll never let you fall.

You didn’t realise that it was possible to fall more in love with someone every day. You can’t help but ask yourself – when does it end? When will my cup finally be full? When will I reach the limit?

Jake pulls you back every time he can see you floating away.

He holds your hand, looks at you with those aquamarine eyes of his.

He says, “I love you,” but really, he means - love is not a finite resource.

He kisses your forehead, but he’s telling you - your cup can never be full. It’ll just keep spilling over.

His soft lips find yours, and he’s promising – our love will keep expanding forever. It’ll take over the universe and everything will be beautiful.

You’re convinced you must have been a saint in a previous life to be loved like this now. You didn’t know that a human being could love another human being so unconditionally, so completely, until you met Jake.

Sitting at the bar that day, all those years ago, your universe cracked and shifted. Juice from the orange still sticky on your fingers as you dug them into Jake’s cheeks, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Salt on your skin mixing with his as you pressed your foreheads together. Citrus on your lips where Jake had licked into your mouth. It was as if the Gods above had placed the blond man in front of you and said here. Have something good for once.

You knew, from that moment on, that you would never take him for granted. No one gets to love like this. No one gets to be loved like this. It’s rare, and it’s beautiful, and it’s a gift to be unwrapped and savoured every single day. Which exactly what the two of you have done.

The minute Jake had kissed you, sitting on those bar stools, orange peel filling the air with the scent of a promise, the two of you had become inseparable.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After every late night shift at The Hard Deck, Jake would be waiting for you, leaning against the back door with a smirk on his face that said he knew something you didn’t. He’d pull you in to him, press his chest against yours, and inhale, as if it was the first breath he’d taken all day. Then he’d push you up against the side of the bar and kiss you stupid, until you both felt drunker on love than any alcohol could ever manage. He’d pull away and beam at you with that million dollar smile of his, before slipping his hand into yours and walking you the scenic route home, just so he could have an extra 10 minutes in your presence.

This routine was a daily occurrence, until one evening, you decided the fleeting kisses weren’t enough. He walks you home, right up to your front door, and presses his lips to yours in a goodbye. Just as he goes to turn on his heel, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer.

“Don’t go,” you whisper against his mouth. “Need you to love me a little more.”

His eyes blow wide, and for a split second he looks like a deer in headlights. Then, regaining his composure, he finds his confidence again.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Yeah, Jake,” you sigh, still millimetres from his lips. “Want to feel you.”

How can he say no to that, when you’re saying his name so pretty?

He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Placing his hand gently on your throat, he murmurs,

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Been waiting my whole life for you.”

He opens the front door behind you and walks you backwards into your house. You don’t make it more than 3 steps inside before he has your shirt over your head, kicking his shoes off at the same time.

“Don’t know how I lived without this. Can’t get enough,” he tells you. He’s looking at you so intently, you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears. The love you have for each other is filling the room, making it hard to breathe. It surrounds you, fills your lungs, makes you feel like you’re both floating. He pulls you back to his lips as if you’re his oxygen, his life source, his sanity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I want to tell you that I love you, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Enough?” you question.

“Love isn’t a big enough word. It doesn’t even begin to describe whatever it is I’m feeling. I’m going crazy with it, sweetheart. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t want to.”

You exhale. It’s as if he’s read your mind.

“Love will have to do,” you tell him. “It’s the only word we have for now.”

He’s kissing you again, hands tangled in your hair, body pressing into yours. You’re vaguely aware that you’re both swaying, too in love to stand still. It’s thrumming though your veins, keeping you levitating above ground.

“It’s everything,” he says when he pulls back for air. “You’re everything.”

You figured that eventually, the electricity in your bones would calm down. That in time, the love would level out, and wouldn’t feel so all consuming.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been two years, and as you sit on the third floor balcony watching Jake dance with his nieces below you, you’re worried that you might spontaneously combust. The love has only got stronger with each passing day, lighting your world and guiding you through. Your body is alive with it – it’s like you’re invincible. Jake’s love is a shield, protecting you, like a forcefield.

He still can’t dance, though.

He’s picking up the youngest girl, Hailey, and spinning her around, throwing her up into the air as she squeals with delight. Of course, he then turns to Ava, and does the same to her, both of them revelling in being the centre of their Uncle Jake’s attention. He has that ability. When Jake’s focus is solely on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That first day that Jake walked into The Hard Deck, he strolled over to the bar with the confidence of 10 men and ordered a beer from you. He gazed into your soul with those ocean blue eyes, and you could have sworn the rest of the room faded away. You’re still not sure if you were looking at each other for 5 seconds or 5 minutes. All you knew was that no one had ever been able to see you so transparently before. It was as if he was reading you like a book, with no judgment whatsoever. He saw you exactly as you were. And he loved you for it.

You’ve confessed to him the worst parts of yourself, your secrets, your desires, your worries, your shame, your hopes, your dreams – everything. And he listens. He watches you with those careful eyes, nods his head, asks all the right questions. He listens like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than talking to you. The rarity isn’t lost on you. This never happens to girls like you, you think. But that’s where you’re wrong. Because Jake Seresin loves you so much that sometimes it sweeps him off his feet. Sometimes, he has to hold onto something and steady himself because the force of his feelings for you sends him into a tailspin. The adrenaline of flying a plane is one thing, but that warmth he gets in his chest when you beam a smile at him is a complete other. No jet manoeuvre could ever give him the headrush that you do when you wink at him across a crowded room. Yes, Jake Seresin used to be a notorious ladies man – a player, a heartbreaker, a sneak out of bed before breakfast kind of guy.

But that’s because he was waiting for you. His whole life, he’s been waiting for you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re so lost in your thoughts that it takes you a moment to come back to reality. When you do, you look down and realise that Jake is no longer on the dance floor. Hailey and Ava are back with their parents, the four of them dancing and spinning to the beat, laughing as they go. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the cheeky grins – it almost feels like a vision of the future. Jake looks just like his sister, and her daughters look just like her. You know the Seresin genes are strong – yours wouldn’t stand a chance.

The evening is beginning to settle. The sun is setting, and a slight breeze blows the trees. Everyone is still dancing, singing and laughing, and the sound of it floats upwards towards where you’re sat smiling through the balcony railings. You wish you had a camera – but you also know no photograph could ever capture the joy that radiates around this beautiful setting. The lights on the barn twinkle as the dusk creeps in, illuminating the faces of the people you love the most. Bradley, Natasha and Bob are dancing, if you can call it that, while Javy, Reuben and Mickey are stood a short distance away, smiling at them like idiots. If you could freeze time, you would. You’re not sure any moment will ever be as perfect as this one.

You feel his presence before you hear him. Warmth appears in the doorway behind you, and you know without looking that it’s Jake. You can smell the familiar scent of salt, sunshine, and sandalwood. The smell of home.

“Hi, Mrs Seresin.”

He hasn’t come into your eyeline yet, but you can hear the grin on his face. He can’t see it, but you’re wearing a matching one.

“Hi, husband.”

He steps onto the balcony, and wraps his strong arms around your middle, pressing his nose into the junction of your shoulder and inhaling.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me that.”

He scatters kisses along your shoulder, up your neck, and onto your cheek, chuckling as he feels you giggle against him. He turns you in his arms so you’re facing each other.

“Got worried for a sec. Thought maybe you’d bolted.”

He nudges his nose against yours, megawatt smile still plastered on his face.

“After I’d married you? What would be the point in that? If I was gonna run, I’d have done it before we said I do.”

He pinches your sides lightly, making you yelp, both of you laughing. The sound of it echoes through the air, the soundtrack to your evening.

“You okay?” he asks genuinely, eyes scanning over your face. The softness of it makes you want to melt.

“Of course I am. Just wanted to take a minute. Savour the moment, you know.”

He nods back at you, and presses his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss Jake, you can never get enough. You’re always begging each other for just one more. You’d stay here with your mouth on his forever if you could. You can only hope that when your time comes, you take your last breath with your lips pressed to his – a last image of your love.

“I brought you a gift,” he says when he pulls away.

He retreats into the room, and comes back with an orange in his hand. A bright, beautiful, bold ball of light in his palm. A promise.

A tear escapes your eye at the gesture. Oranges became something sacred to the both of you after that first one you shared on the bar of The Hard Deck. Neither of you can eat them in everyday life anymore. They’re solely reserved for special occasions, momentous moments.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Jake proposed to you in the dim light of your kitchen on a random Friday evening, you knew your answer immediately. You’d been dancing around, swaying in each other’s arms, when all of a sudden, he stopped moving and looked you dead in the eyes.

“Marry me,” he said with so much assurance it made you dizzy. Like he’d never been surer of anything.

“You are the love of my goddamn life, honey. I always thought soulmates were a thing of fiction, and then I walked into The Hard Deck that night and I just knew. You started peeling that orange that day and I just knew. I am going to love you for eternity – there’s no doubt about that. So, marry me. Marry me, baby.”

You jumped into his arms and kissed him so hard that the both of you fell to the floor, laughing on the cold kitchen tiles.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” you replied between kisses.

He beamed at you with a grin so bright you were worried the lightbulbs were going to shatter. You were sure yours was just as sparkling.

Jake rose from his place on the ground, reaching up for something on the counter. A part of you wonders if it’s a ring, but then he produces something better. An orange. The brightest, ripest, most promising piece of fruit you’ve ever seen.

You split it while sitting on the kitchen tiles, drunk off each other, leaning into Jake’s side like you can’t get close enough. You’re convinced it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Now, Jake starts to peel the orange, before pausing and shrugging off his suit jacket. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You think he looks beautiful no matter what he wears, but there’s something about that man in a suit that makes your knees want to give out.

He places the jacket over your lap.

“Don’t want you getting orange juice on that pretty white dress,” he smiles, resuming his place next you.

He peels the fruit and splits it in half with practised precision. Almost like he’s done this before.

You eat your halves in silence. No words are needed. You love Jake, and Jake loves you, and today all of the people you both love most in the world got to watch you declare that to each other. And now here you are, sharing an orange with the man you’re going to share oranges with for eternity.

Jake Seresin is in love with you. Nothing else matters.

[breakfastteatime]

Another day, another long line outside a refuelling station.

Greez has been sharing his thoughts, feelings and beliefs regarding the Jedi Order for... well, for a while now. Cal is only half tuned in as he looks to the stars.

Then Greez starts a new soliloquy about Master Yaddle and Cal finds himself experimenting with new patience-exercises just to get through it.

"Yeah, that Master Yaddle sure was a legend. I heard she saved an entire planet from war by performing a tea ceremony that reminded everyone of their united past. She even baked the cakes herself." Greez sighs. "That's the kind of Jedi I wanna know more about."

Cal snorts. He can't hold it in any more. BD stares at him, beeping curiously. Cere sighs in that 'I'm actually really amused by this' way of hers. She has to know what's coming.

Poor Greez.

"What? You thought none of you knew how to cook?" Greez demands. "Show some respect to your elders who went beyond standard Jedi skills, Cal!"

"I have nothing but respect for Master Yaddle," Cal says, hand on his chest. "I promise."

"You got a funny way of showing it."

Cal chuckles. "I mean, she was my Grand Master, and Master Tapal told me so much about her. He was a Lasat, so you can imagine the height difference. He said one time she had to stand on his shoulders just to - "

Greez turns to him. Cal tries to keep his smile innocent, but there's a smirk breaking free.

"Wait. Just wait. Grand Master?"

"Yeah - my master's master."

Greez's fingers tap the controls. "This whole time you've heard me talking about her, and you never said you knew her?"

"Probably because I didn't. She died before I could ever meet her, but I know some stories." He knows a lot of stories. A lot a lot. Master Tapal could be quite chatty if you knew the right questions to ask.

Cal knew the right questions to ask.

"This whole time I've been talking about her, and you're, like, her grandkid or whatever Jedi call it?"

"Grand Padawan," Cal says. "Yup. And it's a true story, the tea ceremony thing. Master Tapal said he had to taste-test a few cakes just to make sure they were delicate enough."

Greez turns to Cere. "You knew this about him?" He jabs a finger in Cal's direction.

"Yes," Cere replies calmly.

Greez rounds on BD who immediately protests. He knew nothing!

"I'm an open book," Cal says, leaning back in the co-pilot's chair. "What do you wanna know?"

Their refuel bay assignment comes in before Greez can answer. Instead, he glares out the viewport. "I'm gonna make a list."

[donnapalude]

do you have any thoughts on where the show might take That Dynamic that could make it interesting again? 👀

hello! not like complex thoughts in the sense of a fic or anything but i think it would be kind of easy to play with what they already have which is 1) animosity because of louis and 2) the stockholm syndrome context that was already alluded but can be revisited in the future why not. kind of long so under the cut.

just. the fact that now they have this bond of master/fledgling that is bound to bring them together at some point. they clearly hate each other but it's at least intriguing because they hate each other for intimate reasons. it's not apersonal. armand blames daniel for the end of his relationship with louis. so he is both object of punishment and the last link with louis he has, that he may want to revisit just to keep one (1) feeling alive in the void that is his eternal lonely life.

daniel thinks armand was a dick to his friend louis of course and of course even before that armand tortured him. BUT--- i think the REAL reason daniel hates armand and is so bitchy with him more than all this is that when he tortured him in 205 he saw him. he saw him at his most pathetic and he saw that he wanted to die. it was not romantic in any way but it was vulnerable. and then instead of truly punishing him for it. he. gave him what he wanted. with kindness. or maybe daniel is not even sure whether he wanted it maybe armand made him want it, but the point is there was a moment where armand was cradling him gently and offering a reprise he desired. BUT, it was false, it was of course not a real kindness and daniel knows this. and he must also feel violated because mind shenanigans were going on. and then this was all interrupted and daniel now has to live with this knowledge. that he had to suffer this indignity of feeling the most seen and understood by a person that does not care for him at all and that exposed and exploited that only for a sick mind game. of having being offered and having accepted this gift of like almost maternal rest, having shared this moment of vulnerable sweetness. and it was fake. even partly piloted. that is an interesting ambivalent mindest to me.

and now this person is his maker. and he has to some extent curry his favour because he needs access though him to the vampire world and power.

i really think they can do something good and twisted with this. i think they can play with this desire but also fear that daniel has to be actually seen and understood and armand being able to do that (mainly because he is a master manipulator) DESPITE hating each other. during the interview when armand skinned him alive with the alice references daniel looked GUTTED. to me that's erotic. not romantic at all but erotic for sure. because again there's vulnerability and closeness in that type of violence, it's not detached. you need to know each other to hurt each other that way. it's almost as if they are divorced without ever being married.

and conversely, the torture scene was intimate in a very twisted way for armand too imo. he revealed a lot of himself to daniel without fully realizing because he thought he would die. daniel has been the only witness to the out of control rage that he has never let anyone, especially louis, see. and armand has basically shown him that even when he kills he cannot do it with the victim hating him, he always needs a reassurance. so he also feels exposed and although contrary to daniel he does not really want that (even in romantic relationships his instinct is usually to hide his true self) it can still be liberating to have someone around that has already seen the worst of you. moreover, for armand i can see very easily a continuation of the "is that what makes you fascinating" trend going on, fixating on daniel as the catalyst of the divorce instead of facing his own flaws and turning that fixation into an erotic desire for domination because of a re-direction of feelings he has for louis and general desire to retake control of his life by figuratively and literally taking control of the person that is responsible for making it spin it out of control.

you see where i am going with this???

like i am not even saying my interpretations of prev scenes are correct i am just writing random possible stuff. but at least it would not be "oh armand kidnaps daniel because......reasons and they have generic bdsm like we are in 50 shades of gray because.....other nebulous reasons".

and this could also be a new dynamic in the show in the whole abusive /toxic discourse in that 1) either armand may not seek to actually have total control over daniel as he does not want a relationship and he does not want him in his life that often /also daniel is not in love with armand; 2) or maybe they actually do create a true prisoner stockholm syndrome situation that has erotic undertones.

and to me this would honestly be very interesting because of course it's still like wrong lol. i am not saying that eroticizing = endorsing, i hope this is clear to a public of adults. but it can maybe fall outside of the strictly patriarchal framework analysed until now in the show and just create different conversations around what's abuse, what's consent within abuse etc. and it can also be hot if taken eyes open at face value as basically horror torture porn.

give me your thoughts!!

[geekywritings]

The gift of love

This is just a load of fluff and some dad Cal!! Also, apologies for changing the request a little. The story just wrote itself!

The request: “Oooo ok I thought of something! Cal x reader where the reader gets pregnant and Cal finds her crying about it cause she thinks their whole Mantis operations are now in danger and she is just really scared and he comforts her. And then skip to the birth and it’s a little girl and they name her Y/D/N Cere Kestis???”

_____

This should be a joyous moment. Yet you couldn’t stop the tears as they spilled from your eyes, sinking to the floor in the room you shared with Cal on the Mantis.

It’s not that you didn’t want a child, but the revelation of your pregnancy had the most inopportune timing! Together with the crew, you had revived Cere’s project of the Path to find a safe spot for those trying to escape the Empire. Tanalorr was a good safe haven, but the infrastructure was still lacking and even though the first refugees were working hard on it, it would take weeks if not months before the planet offered true comfort.

Yet you couldn’t sit around and wait. Finding survivors and allies wasn’t always easy and getting them into safety even less so. Sometimes smuggling worked, other times, a fight was unavoidable. And then there was also the perilous journey to the hidden planet. Greeze had already settled down there, making you the official pilot for the dangerous trips. And that’s why you were now a sobbing mess on the floor. They needed you. The cause, these people out there… you couldn’t let them down.

So lost in your despair, you didn’t hear the door sliding open or Cal entering. Not until you felt his hands on your shoulders, a worried voice asking: “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t speak, instead you threw yourself into his arms, grateful for the way he held you, a hand just gently stroking through your hair as he patiently waited for you to calm down. All the while, he was whispering sweet assurances to you that everything was fine. That he was there.

“I’m so sorry…”, were the first words you managed to get out.

“Sorry about what?”, he asked, worry and confusion thick in his voice.

Puffy red eyes were focused on him as you fought with yourself to get the words out. He needed to know. He deserved to know. After all, it was his child as well.

“Cal… I’m pregnant.”

Green eyes widened and you saw a waterfall of emotions rush through them. Everything from surprise, shock and wonder, all mixed into one.

“Are you sure?”, he managed to choke out.

You nodded and were about to apologize again, when Cal suddenly pulled you into another hug. “That is wonderful.”, he spoke and you could hear in his voice that he was smiling.

“But the mission…”, you began and Cal instantly let you go again, so that he could look at you.

“Is that why you were crying?”

Another nod from you, earning a gentle smile from Cal, before he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours.

“The fight is important… but you are even more important to me. We wanted to build a future on Tanalorr, remember? This…” He placed a hand on your stomach. “Is even more motivation for me. Besides, the Path isn’t just us anymore. We have an entire network of allies. We can retire any time and know that Cere’s vision will live on.”

Every word was like a calming balm for your soul, at the same time, you felt your eyes prickling with tears again. Great, were you going be be extra emotional for months now?

“You would really stop fighting for me?”

“I would do anything for you, love. For you and our family.”

His smile grew. “I still can’t believe I’m going to be a father…”

He seemed so genuinely happy. So amazed by the turn his life was about to take. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help but feel happy as well.

10 months later

“Shhh, your mom is sleeping.”, Cal cooed to the crying infant, as he walked up and down the bedroom, gently rocking the baby in his arms. Not wanting to wake you, he finally opted to go outside, the night air of Tanalorr warm enough during this season.

You had a small home, far on the outskirts of the ever-growing town the people had called Haven. Although Cal still did the occasional run for the Path, he had mostly hung up his lightsaber, focusing on helping people in other ways. He was good at fixing things and enjoyed farming. Both skills desperately needed on this new planet.

And he had a family now. One he didn’t want to leave. With a smile, he stared at the child. His son, who still seemed like a little miracle to him.

“Want me to tell you another story about your namesake?”, he asked. “He was a great Jedi Master. Strict, but also incredibly patient and kind.” Little Jaro was quickly calming down, as he always did when Cal began to tell stories.

“That’s one of my favourites as well.”

Your voice caught Cal’s attention after he had just finished one of his tales. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head and joined him, placing a kiss on his cheek and then one on your sleeping baby boy’s forehead. “The bed just grew cold without you.”, you explained with a smile, which he returned.

“I’ll be right back. Seems like the little one fell asleep again.”

“He won’t be for long. So let’s stay and enjoy the view for a while.”, you suggested and both your heads turned to the magical display of Tanalorr’s nightsky, as you stood arm in arm. This was your home. This was your future. And you had fought long and hard to finally enjoy it. Together.