#originally wasn’t meant to ever see the light of day and you can tell

[soosoosoup]

Here it is, the wip/scrapped old art block attempt 😅

[anonity]

seeing

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

hi ladies! happy valentines day <3 i have the flu 😩 the last time i had the flu my ex-gf broke no contact to tell me to take care of myself.. just thought i’d share that.. i meant to post this wednesday but i lost the original draft i had of it and only just now finished rewriting it

WC: 765. supa short, longer fics coming i pinkie promise

summary: paige should look away. she knows she should. but azzi is beautiful and, more importantly, hasn’t noticed paige staring. (or maybe she has, and is letting her look anyways.)

the cabin drums with the white noise of plane engines, accompanied by a stillness unique to the sky — suspended moments paige has only found 35,000 feet in the air. 

somewhere behind them, there’s a flight attendant passing by with a drink cart. it clatters against someone's seat, the wheels making an unpleasant scraping sound.  aaliyah is craning her neck to see if they have fritos, and KK is arguing vehemently with whoever is behind her. paige barely registers any of it. 

because azzi is sitting next to her, leaned into the window seat they’d fought over, bathing in the dim light of the overhead lamp — and paige cannot stop looking at her. 

she’s reading. or at least, she was reading, because the page hasn't turned in a hot minute. it’s a new book (a paperback paige had caught her eyeing in the airport and bought the second she looked away), but the spine is already cracking from use. 

her head is tilted just so, cheek pressed against the cool glass, and the way she’s leaning has the setting sun softening over the curve of her jaw. paige swallows thickly, shifting in her seat. 

she should look away. 

she knows she should. 

because azzi is her best friend, her teammate, the peanut butter to her jelly. and so she should turn away to scroll through her phone, or even watch the moving where-are-we map displayed on the flight screen in front of her. she should do anything but sit there, yearning in the cabin of an avelo airline, and stare. 

but azzi hasn’t looked back yet. and so long as it stays that way, paige figures she can get away with it. there’s something stupidly intimate about watching azzi when she’s so clearly focused on something else, eyes decorated with golden flecks where the sun is catching them. there's something soft in the way azzi hasn’t noticed yet, or kind in the way she probably has but is choosing not to acknowledge it. maybe that is what creates the weightless feeling that only seems to exist in the quiet in-between of being with azzi. the way she’s letting paige look, deliberately allowing her to have this moment.

paige knows the second azzi turns her head, she’ll have to school her expression – pretend she wasn’t memorizing the way azzi tugs her lip in between her top teeth, or the way her eyebrows are knitted together like she’s trying to figure something out.

for how hard paige is staring, you would think she’d notice the way azzi’s eyes have stopped following the paper in front of her.

she doesn’t, though. azzi shifts, paige tracking the way her fingertips slide up the spine of the book, and lets her gaze follow upwards – to the slope of her shoulders, the outline of collarbone where her sweatshirt is falling.

then, azzi inhales softly, speaking without raising her gaze. “you’re staring.”

paige freezes, eyes landing on the digital airplane in front of her. “no i’m not.”

azzi smiles. “you are.”

paige shuffles further back into her seat, rolling her eyes. “you think you got your degree, and you know every fuckin’ thing, huh?” she deflects, grin widening at the reference as she nudges azzi’s knee with her own.

azzi hums. she has that look she gets when she knows something paige doesn’t – like she’s waiting for her to figure it out. “i know what it feels like when you’re looking at me.”

paiges grin stutters, her stomach flipping like it does when there’s turbulence. it’s the first time azzi has ever really acknowledged that paige looks at her. if she’s honest, she feels a little caught, walls she thought were well-built around her crumbling at the mere notion of azzi noticing the way paige watches her (of azzi recognizing the way paige looks at her, seeing it in the pages of whatever romance she’s reading).

paige risks a peek over, but azzi is still staring at those same words. paige’s shoulders slump in relief. azzi’s giving her this – this safe distance, the opportunity to ignore what's sitting thickly between them. 

i know what it feels like when you’re looking at me. of course she does. it’s all paige can do sometimes: stare.

then paige laughs, light and easy like her world didn’t just briefly stop spinning. “crazy thing to say,” she mutters, faking an unbothered yawn. she prays azzi doesn’t catch the way her voice wavers.

azzi finally turns her head, but paige's gaze is trained stubbornly on her phone. not because she’s embarrassed, but because she’s not sure what would happen if she looked at azzi right now – not while azzi is looking at her.

but from the corner of her vision, paige catches it – azzi smiling, soft and knowing.

and yeah. she probably knows.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us. 

[dani-says-stuff]

heyyy

Okay so .... You have a massive crush on Nate and nobody knows but Nate somehow finds out so you, Nate ,colby and sam are all sitting watching a movie, but colby and sam go out to get food which just leaves you and ethan alone. You tell ethan your gonna take a quick shower. He then asks if he can ask you something, he starts to back you up into a corner and starts to say stuff like "i heard you have a crush on me " ( all that flirty stuff, glides his hand up your hip trying to touch you ) he says it almost wispering he starts to kiss your jaw like ever so slightly .but you deny the whole thing ( stunned inside of what you have just heard) sam and colby come back with food and you have had your shower you sit next to Nate he starts to trail his fingers up and down your back ( kinda sexually)

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the next day Nate teases you when you two are alone or when nobody is looking ( sexually) ( rubbin your thigh and rubbing himself against you breathing down your neck , jaw kisses ) about it all day.

Disasters to Desires

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❥ Back to the Control Center

❥ Nate Hardy Masterlist

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Light smut, 18+, be aware of what you read

Nate Hardy x fem!reader

request!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: extreme awkwardness, shower mishaps, light smut, shower smut(?), fingering, probably bad writing, possible inconsistent capitalization, an absolutely obscene water bill incoming for y/n, so she should probably be on the look out for that.

this literally took me so long because i never felt like it was good- but whatever. this as good as its going to get i fear. i hope this is what you were looking for, i didnt end up doing everything bc it didn’t fit with the direction i was going, sorry for the wait tho! this is also my first smut/semi smut guys so... be gentle pls

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It was later in the afternoon, the plan for the day had originally been to go to this old abandoned house in the woods behind your house. You could barley see it through the trees when standing on the back porch. Faint glimpses of discolored wood and chipping paint just visible through the thick branches if you turned the right way. 

The boys had been trying to convince you to let them take a look at it ever since you moved in a couple months ago. That it would be a cool way to do a call back on their channel. You, the boys, and Nate hopping over fences and creeping around abandoned places like you had years ago. 

An intro and a couple failed attempts at scaling your back fence rather than going through the gate—“for old times sake!” Colby had called briefly, soon falling flat on his face, his ankle catching the top of the fence—was about as far as the group got before the video became an obvious bust. 

It wasn’t a house after all, in reality, it was just someone’s old dilapidated tool shed. Only one level with a thrown together attic space where one may store spare buckets or trays. It wasn’t enough to warrant a video, maybe the more interesting clips would make their way onto xplore club later, but that was as far as the footage would go. 

But the energy was running high, the group was back together, and no one was quite ready to leave just yet.

So, the three boys—with your permission of course—decided to crash at your place, a movie night and popcorn provided by yours truly as long as the boys got the food. 

It was some trilogy that Sam and Colby had been raving about, offended that neither you nor Nate had any clue what they meant when referencing it earlier that day. They forced the two of you onto the couch, insistant on finding the movies on Netflix and binge watching them all that night. 

One movie out of the three down and you could say with absolute certainty, you had no clue what was going on. Hell, you weren’t even sure what the title was. It wasn’t that it was a bad movie either, in fact, you were sure it had to be good, Colby had never steered you wrong before in his recommendations and Nate seemed to be enjoying it… but that was the issue, Nate. 

He was seated next to you on your dingy couch. You’d never realized just how small the piece of furniture was until he plopped down next to you, thigh pressed against your own and an arm slung across the top of the cushions behind you. 

You could hardly breathe, let alone focus on the stupid movie, with your long time crush and the love of your life squishing himself up next to you.

Unintentionally, you were sure. He’d never shown real interest in you in the past and you’d like to think you’d made your feelings clear enough over the years, but nope. Everytime you tried subtly bringing up relationship status around him, he began raving about this mystery girl. His eyes would shine and cheeks would strain under the bright smile when he spoke of her. You couldn’t tell him how you felt when he loved her so strongly. 

So you stayed silent, bottling up the love you harbored for him, forcing yourself to be as platonic with him as you could. 

You thought you had it under control, but you were quickly proven wrong at the heat which flooded your cheeks when his hand fell down, twirling the strands of your hair between his fingers during the more plot-heavy scenes. Running his fingers through your hair and leaning closer and closer to your side through the movie. 

Your daze finally broke during the end credits, Sam slumping forward off his chair with an over exaggerated groan, “I’m starving” he whined, “I totally forgot how long that first one is man” 

“Hey!” Colby cut in, immediately defensive, “You’ve gotta introduce all the main shit dude!” 

The blonde snorts, picking himself up from the ground and opening his phone to an ordering app, “I’m not complaining man, just hungry.” 

Nate nods eagerly, moving forward to the edge of the seat, out of his previous lounged position. His arm slipping down off the couch completely, falling to rest around your shoulders. You tried your best not to jump at the action, your muscles tightening and straining under the pressure to remain unphased.

The words this is normal. act cool. an endless mantra, repeating over and over in your head as you struggled to breathe properly. 

“Yeah!” he spoke, gaze flicking between the two boys, “can we get the food now?” he looks down at you, your heart seizing in your chest, “You cool with that? A brief intermission before we continue the saga?” 

You looked up at him, heart beating so erratically you could feel it in your skull and your breath catching in your lungs under the intensity of his gaze. All you could give him, and in turn the other two boys as well, was a jerky nod of your head.

God, why is this so much more awkward than usual. 

Before long, Sam and Colby had left, going to pick up some order from some restaurant. If your brain had been working properly and not hyper focused on Nate’s fingers brushing up and down your arm, you may actually know what it was you had agreed to ordering. Welp, a surprise it is, you’d been best friends with the boys for long enough that you all knew each other's orders by heart— so at least you knew it wouldn't be something gross. 

The two of you remained on the couch after the boys left, Nate soon becoming occupied by something on his phone to pass the time and you remaining awkwardly stiff under his arm.

You shifted, stretching your body to the side table and grabbing your own phone—maybe that would help you get your mind off of his warm skin pressing against your own. The movement however, brought the brunette out of his doom scroll, warm brown eyes now stuck gazing at your side profile with such an intensity you could swear you felt it burning your skin.  

You tried to ignore it at first, assuming he was only curious at what you were doing and would soon return to his own phone. After three strange instagram reels, you found that would not be the case. You spoke, eyes still trained on your screen, knowing the words would fail you if you met his gaze, “Can I help you with something?”

Rather than answer, he quickly shoots back his own question, his voice lost and far away as he speaks, “Can I ask you something?” 

Your brows furrowed and lips purse together in confusion, “Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, clicking off your phone to give him your full attention now, “of course, what’s up?”

You weren’t quite sure what the question was going to be, maybe something about filming or some weird article he just saw, but you knew you were definitely not expecting this. 

His body moved, inching even closer to you than before, now able to feel his breath tickling your eyelashes as he spoke. Your heart beating faster and faster at every inch evaporating between you. 

“I heard,” he trailed off, the tension so thick that it forced his voice to a hoarse whisper, his gaze switching steadily between your eyes, ready to back off at any signs of discomfort, “I heard so I just had to ask… do you have feelings for me?” 

Your eyes widened comically large, fear seizing your body and throwing you into overdrive. You were imaging things, you had to be. There was no way this was happening right now. “W-what?” 

He moved closer, leaning entirely over you now, your back pressed into the arm rest, “Do you have feelings for me?” 

Yep. It was happening. 

You didn’t know who told him that or how he found out, but his words gave no indication that he was into you as well. Or at least that's what you thought in your panicked state despite the fact Nate was currently hovering over you, eyes trailing down to your lips every once in a while despite his attempts to keep them from doing so. 

You laughed nervously, squirming out from underneath him and fumbling to the floor, “Y-you know what?” you rushed, stuttering over your words and completely ignoring his question, “Sam and Colby are probably going to be a little bit, so I’m gonna go. I’m just gonna run upstairs and take a shower real fast. I can, uh, I can practically still feel the cobwebs on my skin from earlier.”

That was half true. You walked straight into the biggest spider web you’d ever seen at the stupid shed and made the boys pick through your hair for at least fifteen minutes just to make sure there weren't any bugs or spiders hiding in there. The shower would also get you out of this complete and utter nightmare. 

You quickly stood, stumbling over your own limbs as you did, “So, yeah. Um, help yourself to whatever I guess, I’ll be back.” You rushed up the stairs, leaving Nate completely stunned and alone in the livingroom.

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You were not looking forward to your water bill at the end of this month.

In an attempt to save yourself from further humiliation and awkwardness, you’d decided to camp out in the shower until Sam and Colby came back. Your phone propped up on the back of the toilet so you could check the status of the order and gauge how long it would take them to get back. 

You reached out from the curtain, checking for the fourth time since you finished actually cleaning yourself off. They were still at the place and the order was yet to be completed.

You groaned, throwing your head back “What the hell did we order? Why is it taking so long?” you whined, slumping down on the floor of the tub, warm water cascading over your body. 

Your fingers were beginning to prune. You didn’t know exactly how long it had been, but it had to be at least thirty minutes by now. 

You’d begun to disassociate slightly, watching blindly as the drops raced down the wall before you, the flow of water massaging your back further numbing your mind. 

At least until a light knock sounded from the bathroom door. “N/N?” Nate called out through the wood, concern resting on his words despite the playful tone he always seemed to carry around you, “N/N you alright in there?”

“Y-yeah” you squeak, “All good!” startled by the sudden person, you shoot to stand up, forgetting about the slippery soap residue coating the tub and slipping back down with a loud crash. Several bottles—soaps, conditioner, and shampoo—falling down with you.

Could this get any worse?

Yes. Yes it could.

And it did get worse. 

So. Much. Worse.

You didn’t fully realize he had entered the bathroom, the sound of the door slamming open deaf on your ears as the bottles came crashing down, until he ripped open the shower curtain with wide concerned eyes. 

“Are you ok?” 

“What the fuck!”

Both of your words reached a similar pitch, his tone taking on more concerned while yours remained completely horrified. 

Nate, bless his soul, too preoccupied by the loud, painful sounding fall to completely register how insane his actions were. Especially not as he reached down, hands already pulling you up. He was more focused on injury than your embarrassment, his hands finding purchase on your hips, firmly keeping you in place so you didn’t slip again. 

You tried to push his hands off, shrinking back and ripping the curtain back in place but his grip remained strong. 

“Hey hey hey, stop” he spoke, soft and concerned as his gaze trailed over your face, one hand moving to inspect the back of your head, “Are you ok?” he pressed softly, fingers searching for any sore areas from smacking it against the hard ground.

“M’ fine.” you squeaked, eyes trailing to the floor, completely mortified while your arms wrapped around yourself, “Can you go now?” 

He stopped, brows crinkling and head tilting to the side, “Why?”

Your eyes snap up to his, your jaw opening and closing repeatedly like a gaping fish, “Wha– I’m in the shower?” 

“I know? You just took a fall in the shower,” he winced, resuming his inspection of your scalp, “a pretty nasty one from what it sounded like.”

“Can we do this later?”

“And risk overlooking a concussion?” he scoffed, "No. Are you insane?"

“Nate,” you spoke, voice stern despite the heat flooding into your cheeks and neck, “I’m naked.”

For some reason, that’s what got him. All his movement stopped, “Oh.” he whispered, voice breathless and eyes wide as his gaze swept over your bare body. 

The seconds seemed to last centuries, Nate stunlocked as he looked over your form, and you too embarrassed to do anything but stay completely frozen, eyes anywhere but on him. 

“Do I have to?” he finally speaks, breaking the silence. You look at him, mortification and confusion washing over your face. Or at least you were mortified until you caught his eyes, pupils blown and gaze soft as it roamed your skin. 

That's when you finally realized his question wasn’t meant to pick on you earlier. He was being genuine, and he has feelings for you too, very deep ones if his current actions are anything to go by. 

“Do you have to what?” 

His eyes finally make their way back up to yours, locking steadily in place and searching for any sign you want him to back off, “Do I have to leave?” 

You melt, you were certain you’d be a puddle under his intense heated gaze if not for his hands keeping you steady. You allow your eyes to trail down to his lips, “No.” 

That’s all it takes for him to lunge forward, lips eagerly rushing to find yours. He’s uncaring of his clothes, still on and becoming soaked from the steady stream of water. All that matters, is after years he’s finally able to kiss you. 

He pushes you backwards, your body quickly coming in contact with the cool tile behind you, the temperature a delicious contrast to the warmth of his touch trailing over your body. Hands trailing up and down, massaging over any skin he can. Your arms, waist, hips, chest, no part of you is forgotten by him as he continues to kiss you. Your own hands clinging to his quickly dampening hair and across the back of his neck, holding on tight as he continues to explore your body with fervor.

Your lungs begin to burn, the need for air overwhelming, but neither of you want to give up this moment. Reluctantly you pull away, head resting back against the wall, chest rapidly moving up and down, quick shallow breaths escaping your mouth. 

It didn't seem Nate was as ready to quit as you were though, his lips— much like his hands, now moving to capture more of your skin. Kisses moving from the corner of your mouth, down your chin, across your jaw, anywhere he could reach. 

His arms moved, spurred on by the choked wimpers leaving your lips at the alternation of kisses and small bruises he was peppering on the tender parts of your neck. One hand resting firmly against your hip and pressing you securely against the wall while the other trailed between your thighs. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he breathes against your skin quickly before returning to his previous actions. Any moment he spent talking rather than have his lips on you, was a moment wasted. 

You moaned, gripping tight to his hair at a particularly harsh pull, him biting softly upon your skin, “I think I have an idea.” 

He only muffled a small laugh, refusing to abandon the warm smooth skin he was currently painting in a swath of dark purple and red bruises. 

His hand moved, lithe finger exploring the inviting velvet folds of your center. Stroking up and down, exploring you, gauging what you liked and didn’t like by the soft sounds escaping your swollen lips. He finally found a smooth rhythm, stroking the pearl at the apex with his thumb while his fingers prodded around your center, pumping in and out at a methodical pace. 

You clung to his hair, his ministrations refusing to let up even as your legs began to quake, unable to support your weight fully anymore. Rather than slow, he simply pushed you further into the wall, moving closer to take more of your weight on himself, keeping you steady and upright as he continued. Moving faster and faster as your pleasured moans grew louder and louder, echoing off the walls of the small bathroom.

Your skin felt as if it was on fire, as if you were burning alive, consumed by the fires of passion held back behind his gaze, and you wished it would never stop. If you could pause this moment and live here forever you would. 

A coil pulled tighter and tighter in your gut, legs shaking beneath you as it did. Tighter at each drag of his fingers over your skin, tighter at each suck and kiss he placed upon your collarbone, until it finally snapped. Moaning his name loud and unrestrained at the release, a tremor ran through his own body at the beautiful sound, before falling limp against him, clinging desperately to his shoulders as the aftershocks racked your frame. 

He traced his fingers up and down your back now, loving kisses placed against your temple while you regain your composure. 

He was about to ask if you’d like to take it to the bedroom, some flirty remark passing through his lips once you finally found the strength to pick up your head and meet his gaze. But then the front door opened, followed by the loud calls of Sam and Colby back with the food. 

He shook his head, a slight smile on his lips, before leaning down. Placing a soft, loving kiss against your lips.

“I guess we’ll just have to finish this later, huh?” 

“Oh absolutely.”

once again, sorry for the wait @serendipity432 ! hope it's what you were thinking! :)

[ladytauria]

tauria if youre taking requests for whumpmas can i throw my hat in for sprained ankle with jaytim? i dislocated, relocated, and severely sprained my ankle two weeks ago and id love to live vicariously through jaytim comfort 😩

!! i hope your ankle is doing better, bean!! sorry this is so late ^^;

this... did not end up being very whumpy or hurt/comfort-y. but i hope you enjoy the boys being dumb <3

(also! i am always happy to take requests related to prompt lists or not <333)

>> AO3 <<

“If you’re going to boss me around like this, you could at least wear a nurse’s uniform,” Tim grouses.

His ankle is balanced on the arm of the couch and cradled in ice. Jason’s fingers caress the swollen skin before coming down to settle on his calf as he kneels next to the couch. His hand is a warm, solid weight that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

He’s joking… mostly. He’d pay a lot—and he does mean a lot—of money to see Jason in an actual sexy nurse’s costume. The short white dress, especially one of the ones with a zipper, exposing the swell of Jason’s pecs… the tight white skirt clinging to his thighs. Red boots… And a cute little cap to top it off.

Tim salivates just thinking about it.

(Although, if he was going to dress Jason in anything… The original Robin panties are at the top of the list. And then it’s a tie between a maid uniform and a schoolgirl’s.)

Jason snorts.“Tell you what,” he says. “If you follow all o’ Leslie and Alfie’s advice… I’ll wear one after you’re cleared for physical activity.”

Oh… Tempting. Very tempting. But— “You’re just saying that because you think I’ll fail,” he accuses. Otherwise, no way would his boyfriend, Jason Todd, agree to dress up in a sexy little costume for him. Tim asked him to keep his holsters on one night and the man turned into a blushing mess.

It was adorable, yeah, but it meant Jason wasn’t exactly the type to just… Offer something like that with a straight face.

“History is workin’ against you,” he agrees. A light blush steals over his face. “But, yanno. Anythin’ can happen. If… If you can follow most of their advice… I’ll wear the uniform.”

Tim hums, considering. When—not if—Tim wins, Jason will probably show up in scrubs, because he thinks he’s hilarious. (Sometimes he is, to be fair.) Jokes on him though. Tim probably wouldn’t pay quite as much money to see that, but he’d still be willing to pay an exorbitant amount.

Hnn… Just the idea of sucking Jason off through a pair of scrubs, or bending him over a bed, pulling them down so he can rim him…

Hot.

Either way, Tim wins.

“You’re on,” he says, sticking out his hand. “You want to claim something if I lose?”

Jason shakes. “Sure. If you lose, you have to do whatever I say for a week.”

“That implies I get a week of the uniform,” Tim counters.

Jason turns a brighter shade of pink, nearing red. “Three days.”

Tim smiles beatifically. “Three days,” he agrees.

He’s going to be the best patient Leslie has ever had.

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

All The Pretty Little Horses

Two fics in one night? It's almost like I wrote them ages ago and am only now getting round to actually posting them 🤔

Of course we're all disappointed that we never got to see Rick and Beth actually have the conversation about what happened to Beth C-137, so I wanted to write it. Takes place after Solaricks.

Summary: Beth confronts Rick about the revelation that she's not his original daughter. ~1100 words

Rick’s exhausted from the day’s events, but he’s buzzing with so much restless energy he can’t even sit still, let alone sleep. He’s tried, unsuccessfully, to channel it into a project, or to dull it with alcohol, but neither have worked. His room feels even smaller than normal, like a cage, and he knows he has to get out.

He stumbles out of his room and down the stairs, not really sure where he’s going, driven by a vague need to escape. As he reaches the bottom, he notices a light on in the kitchen. He didn’t know anyone was still up, but company is just the distraction he needs right now. He doesn’t particularly care who it is - he’ll even take Jerry’s company over his own at this point. Rick speeds up as much as his inebriated body will let him.

As he enters the kitchen, a piece of his heart tears itself from his chest at the sight of his daughter slouched over the table, glass of wine in hand. She looks up at him and smiles sardonically.

“Like father, like daughter, huh?”

Rick doesn’t know what to say, but Beth clearly isn’t interested in waiting for him to respond.

“So. I’m not your real daughter.” she begins, picking up the bottle to refill her glass. Rick swallows, knowing he should tell her that she is his daughter, that it doesn’t matter about their realities of origin, that he loves her, but the words won’t come out. Beth continues,

“You know, at first, I was actually kind of relieved to find out. You know why? Because if you weren’t my original dad, it meant that you weren’t the one who abandoned me.” 

She stops to drink, but Rick can tell she’s far from done with the confrontation. 

“But then I got angry again, because I realised that you did abandon me. Just not this version of me.” Rick wants to protest, or apologise, or cry, but he’s frozen.

“What did she do? To deserve being abandoned?” Beth’s tone is cold and forceful enough that it temporarily unblocks Rick’s throat just enough for him to choke out two words.

“She died.”

“So, she died, and you decided to just replace her with another Beth? That’s all I am to you, right? Just another infinite daughter.”

“Beth, i-it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like, Dad?” Beth snaps. Rick flinches. 

“My original Beth… she was killed as a child. By another version of me.”

Beth’s face softens slightly, and Rick realises he’s crying.

“He wanted me to abandon you, and your mom, and travel everywhere without consequences. I told him I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay with you, and raise you. He didn’t like it, and… and he killed you, Beth. He took my little girl from me. And he almost did it again today.”

“Dad… I don’t… what do you…?”

Rick takes an unsteady breath. 

“That’s where I was when you were calling for help. I… I had my chance to kill him, Beth. To finally take out that bastard. I tried to do it for decades, even after I knew I had no hope of finding him. I didn’t move in with an adult version of you until I’d given up all hope of ever finding him. Today, I had that hope again…”

He trails off. Beth slowly drops her hands from where they’re clasped over her mouth to finish his sentence. 

“But you chose us?” 

Rick nods. 

Beth sits in stunned silence for a few moments, before beginning to move towards him so slowly that Rick’s hardly sure she’s moving at all. He reaches out his arms and takes her in them, clutching her to his chest.

“So, if your original daughter got murdered for refusing to abandon me, and I’m still alive, that means my original dad…”

“Accepted the offer.”

There’s another painful silence as the feelings wash over both of them. When Beth breaks it, her voice is low and shaky.

“All this time, I thought that’s what you’d done to me. I thought you were him. All the times I blamed you for leaving… why did you let me?”

“I guess… I felt like I deserved it. I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save you.”

“You did save me. You came back for me.”

Rick can’t help the sob that slips out.

“I almost didn’t, Beth. I was so focused on getting my revenge, even if it killed me. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m glad you came back.”

Rick’s too choked up to speak, so he simply pulls Beth tighter to his chest. He feels her squeeze him in return.

Eventually, Beth pulls away, and they both pretend not to notice the other wiping the tears from their face. Beth opens the cupboard and pulls out another glass before pouring them both some wine. Rick accepts, downing the majority of the glass in one go. When he sets it down, he dares to look across at Beth once more, and the sight of her swollen eyes and tearstained face breaks his heart all over again. He reaches a hand across and rests it on hers.

“Lo siento mucho, mijita.” Something about the Spanish feels more meaningful to him, although he has no way of knowing if Beth understands it. She smiles weakly all the same.

They continue drinking in silence until the bottle runs dry.

“Guess that’s our sign to head to bed.” Beth mumbles in a tone that clearly says she wants nothing of the sort.

“I-I dunno if we should risk the stairs, in this state.” Rick offers.

“No. But I think I could make it to the couch.”

They stagger towards the couch, drunkenly leaning on each other, and sink down into the cushions. Beth’s head comes to rest on Rick’s shoulder and he droops an arm around her, pulling her in closer.

Talking about his original Beth has awoken a memory for Rick, and suddenly it’s the most important thing in the world for him to know if it’s one that this Beth shares.

“Did-did your mom… your original mom… did she ever used to sing you the song… ‘hush-a-bye, don’t you cry, go to sleep you little baby. When you awake, you’ll have cake’-”

Rick trails off as Beth joins in. 

“And all the pretty little horses.” 

Suddenly, it strikes Rick that he’s never heard an adult Beth’s singing voice before. It reminds him painfully of Diane and he feels tears spilling down his cheeks, the alcohol lowering his guard. He swallows hard through the lump in his throat to continue singing along with Beth.

“Dapples and greys, pintos and bays. All the pretty little horses. Dapples and greys, pintos and bays. And all the pretty little horses.”

[loverrofmineee]

The Parting Glass - Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x OC

AO3 | Summary | Previous Chapter

Chapter 7- A September Wedding

Sorcha had been avoiding Rosie since their first conversation. Though she’d argue it wasn’t really her fault. The influx of replacements meant the base was busier than ever. More crews meant more work for all those involved. Sorcha's job was to walk each navigator through what would become their routine of stopping outside the command center to pick up everything required for their missions. The brass found that men tended to respond better to a gentle smile and pretty face than a stone-cold officer barking orders at them. Sorcha didn’t mind the job, loving how she got to talk to new people every day, though a gnawing feeling grew in her chest each time she encountered a new officer. 

A resounding thud sounded from Sorcha's desk as Jack Kidd placed a new stack of files on the wood. An apologetic smile seemed to be stuck on his face each time he spoke to the woman, and this time was no different. “More crews arrived just this morning.” 

“Is that your way of telling me I need to go freshen up? Reapply my lipstick?”

Jack rolled his eyes at Sorcha’s teasing. Even if he found enjoyment in it, which he did, he would never outwardly express it. “Good to know you’re up and running, Devs.”

“Who else would brighten your mornings?” Sorcha smiled. 

Once again, Jack’s eyes rolled in annoyance. A small smile crept upon his face, betraying his stony demeanor, and giving Sorcha the satisfaction she needed. 

“I’m assuming Croz will be joining us today?” Sorcha asked as she began to separate the files into stacks.

“You can count on it,” A southern drawl spoke from behind Sorcha. She quickly turned to face a smiling Bubbles, head sticking out from his office. If there was anything good about her job aside from the good it did, it was that Bubbles was her boss. And anywhere Bubbles was, Croz would be as well. “He should be on his way, lord knows how distracted the guy gets.”

The light teasing elicited Sorcha's chuckle as she continued, tuning out the conversation Jack and Bubbles had started. When work began to pile up, Bubbles typically called on Croz to aid him and Sorcha, stating that he ‘couldn’t work without him’. Sorcha originally feigned offense at the comment, but it was partially true. Per standards, Croz was only privy to some details about his friend’s job, mainly aiding through taking new navigators under his wing, relieving both Sorcha and Bubble’s worries. Bubbles often chatted about his and Crosby’s friendship, situating himself on Sorcha’s desk as she attempted to file paperwork around him. She would see the latter almost daily since he had to stop by to receive maps and papers for missions. 

“Leave Croz alone.” Sorcha defended as she stood to file her stacks.

“You keep on defending him ‘cause he’s your favorite.”

Sorcha flashed Bubbles a sly smile, “That’s a bold statement coming from you seeing as he’s your favorite as well.”

Bubbles shook his head in defeat before exiting his office to aid Sorcha in filing. She was hesitant to give him the folders, as she had her proper way of going about things. “Don’t fuck with my system, Bubbles.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bubbles raised his hand in a mock salute before grabbing a stack of files, missing the eye-roll Sorcha sent his way. The two made their way to a separate room, lined wall to wall with filing cabinets, all labeled in alphabetical order. Sorcha wouldn’t consider herself a control freak per se, but the way she guarded the file room like her firstborn child said otherwise. Bubbles knew better than to question Sorcha on her strictness when it came to the room, dutifully following her from cabinet to cabinet. 

Once Sorcha made sure each folder was where it needed to be, she walked back to her desk, Bubbles on her heels once again. 

Jack was leaning against Sorcha’s desk when the two arrived, a teasing smile on his face, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Sorcha was the one in charge here.” Bubbles frowned at this, only spurring Jack on, “It’s like watching a lost puppy follow its new owner.” 

“Who says I’m not in charge?” Sorcha shot back, mirroring Jack’s smile. 

For good measure, Sorcha patted Bubble's head and gave his hair a little ruffle, deepening the frown that found a home on his lips. A small huff escaped Bubble’s throat, only worsening the situation as Sorcha went to comfort him. “Don’t listen to him, Bubbles. You’re a good boy.” 

This was enough to make Jack break, folding over as rhythmic chuckles sounded from him. It was rare that someone could make him laugh, and Sorcha relished in the accomplishment. A proud smile placed itself on Sorcha’s face, turning and slinging an arm around Bubble’s shoulder, to which he promptly shooed off. Done with being teased this early in the morning, he mumbled something about how Sorcha and Jack were the worst and went to find Croz.

“We’re not the worst, are we?” asked Sorcha as the moment passed. 

“Me?” Jack pointed to himself, his serious demeanor coming back, “No. But you, absolutely.” 

His words led to a pencil to the head from Sorcha, the former not even reacting as this had become a common occurrence ever since he arrived. Sorcha let out a large sigh as she sat back in her chair, though a pleased smile betrayed any semblance of annoyance.

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

Once Sorcha had finished her duties for the day, she popped back to her hut and found an envelope from Cormack on her desk. She quickly broke the seal as she sat down on her bed, anxious to hear from him. 

Dear beloved, amazing, wonderful sister, 

I know when you read, you tend to skip around the page, reading ahead when you shouldn’t in an attempt to spoil things, but I’m asking you for one time only, please read this in order. 

Things have been fine over at King's, I’ve been promoted to Captain, giving me a new title and a shit ton of responsibility. We’ve been in the same predicament as you the last couple of weeks with all these new men arriving, giving us fewer missions to go on. I don’t mind training the newbies, and you’ll hate to hear me say this, but I’m itching to go back up in the air. I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me right now, but who am I if not overly honest? Trust that I don’t mention half of this shit to Mom, cause I know she’d be losing her head over all the details. Better to keep her attention on Caoimhe, god knows she’s being smothered in it. Speaking of our baby sister, the little shit hasn’t been responding to my letters. Not that I’m going crazy over it, we all know I’m not sentimental or whatever, but could you pester her to write back? I have a feeling she’d listen to you over me since you have that weird sisterly bond. 

Here comes the part that I’m hoping you didn’t immediately skip to. I’m hoping and praying you actually listened to me for once, don’t go disrespecting an officer like that! You’re gonna be slightly mad when you continue reading, so I ask that you hold your rage in until you finish reading. If you can recall from my dozens of letters, I’ve been seeing Audelia for a while, and you know I love her more than anything. So, we decided to get married. I can visualize your red face right now, but as I said before, don’t get too pissed. I’ll be completely honest with you Uan, I’ve seen too many guys go down and leave their girls behind. I don’t wanna regret anything while I’m here. Some guys think getting married while on tour is stupid, but I think Audelia and I deserve some semblance of married happiness. I’m getting all sappy on you so I apologize, but I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from. 

Write me back when you’re not pissed off at me, or don’t. I’ll be equally entertained either way. 

Love, 

Cormack. 

Sorcha stared at the paper for a good five minutes before gathering her thoughts. “That little fucker.” 

She quickly pocketed the letter before heading off to the officers club to phone her brother. The club was usually empty during the day, as all the men were training or aiding the new crews. Gravel rhythmically crunched under Sorcha's feet as she stomped her way to the building. The short words of greeting from those she passed went ignored, having a one-track mind at the moment. Once inside she nearly sprinted over to the phone attached to the wall, trying to gain a semblance of privacy before dialing her brother's base. The sound of her foot impatiently tapping against linoleum filled the empty hall, matching the rhythm she previously held on her walk. 

After about five minutes of waiting Cormack's voice finally passed through the telephone, “Sorcha?” 

“You little shit! Why the fuck wasn’t I invited to your shotgun wedding- Jesus did you get the girl pregnant. Tell me you didn’t get that poor girl all knocked up. You know mom would absolutely murder you if you had a kid on another continent!” 

A bark of laughter sounded from Cormack's end, deepening the annoyance etched on Sorcha's face. “What’s so funny Cor? Hmmm? Do you enjoy pissing me off?” 

“Honestly, yes. Yes, I do.” Sorcha could hear the smile through her brother's voice. “I’m sorry ok. Since I now know you’ve read my letter, I don’t think I need to explain why it all happened so fast.” 

“Obviously I get that part,” Sorcha scoffed, “but you couldn’t invite me at least? I’m not that bad of a wedding guest. You pulled that charm trick to get me to London, why not Peterborough or wherever the hell you are?” 

“It was a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing, okay. We were just out for a walk together and I proposed. I love her Uan, I really do.” 

“You and that nickname, fuck you for using my feelings against me.” 

“It works, doesn’t it?” Cormack laughed. 

Sorcha's resolve faded as she took in the sincerity of her brother's tone. She let her anger fade with a sigh and let the joy she felt bubble up to the surface. “Was it at least a good proposal?” 

“She said yes. So I guess it was.” 

A deep sigh came from Sorcha's lips as she shook her head, “What a romantic you are. I’m really happy for you though. From what you’ve written, Audelia seems sweet. God knows she must be if she agreed to marry you.” 

“Really feeling the support from you.” Cormack sarcastically drawled, “But yeah, she’s the absolute best. M’not fond of everything about this war, I mean who is, but if anything good comes out of it, it’s Audelia.”

A grin that could light up a room found its way to Sorcha's face as her brother spoke lovingly about his now wife, causing all prior irritation to fade away completely. “She sounds darling. When will I get to meet her?” 

“Maybe around Christmas time.” Cormack floated casually, “I’m sure I could make a good case for you to visit Kings. Plus Audelia has been bothering me about meeting you since we met. Somehow you’ve made a good impression through letters.” 

“Well I am very personable and kind,” Cormack chuckled at his sister's words, calling her bluff. “Oh shut up, deep down you love me.”

Cormacks silence on the other end spoke for itself, “Ok, now tell me all the details about the wedding.” 

Sorcha's question elicited a fake-pained groan from her brother, though he complied with her wishes, repeating the story for what felt like the umpteenth time.

As Sorcha listened to her brother's wedding story, pestering him for leaving details out, she was unaware that someone else had entered the officers club. Rosie had heard her voice as soon as he opened the door, a small smile creeping onto his face. He had been hoping to see Sorcha again since their first conversation, feeling enamored with her. Rosie was aware that she had the attention of practically everyone on the base due to her friendship with the majors, and of course, it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely stunning. Like the others he felt the pull and allure of Sorcha, lining up like many others before him to get a single moment with her. Pappy and the rest of his crew reminded him of Buck's words from their first meeting, stating that there was something going on between Bucky and Sorcha. Rosie protested their warnings, maybe feeling a little bit delusional, as he had felt a special connection with the woman upon their first meeting. Major Egan wasn’t the type to settle down anyway. 

After lingering in the doorway longer than usual, Rosie finally composed himself and made his way to where Sorcha was. Mind racing, he tried to pick a spot where he’d be visible, but not too close in fear of being creepy. Rosie settled himself in one of the leather seats visible from where Sorcha stood, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for her to see him. 

“Well, at least it was a nice ceremony,” Sorcha sighed as Cormack wrapped up his story, finding it far too short for her liking. 

“Is this where you guilt me again about not being there?” 

“I’m just saying it would have been better if I was! God forbid your older sister wants to be part of your life.” 

A low chuckle came from Cormack, “I promise that when we’re all back together I’ll do a proper ceremony.” 

“At Saint Patrick’s?” Sorcha softly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah. I gotta go, but I promise to write you with more details about the wedding and Christmas.” 

A dejected sigh came from Sorcha at her brother's words, cursing the fact that they could never have a full conversation. “I’m holding you to that. Or else I’ll be writing to your CO about it.” 

“Yeah ok,” Cormack teased, “because he’d make his top priority forcing me to write you.” 

Sorcha was quick to defend her words, “You never know what those officers are up to.” 

“Like you would know.” 

An airy laugh fell from Sorcha's lips, sincerity flooding into her voice when she spoke “Hey, as much as I get on you about things, you know I love you, right?” 

A small sigh escaped from Cormack at his sister's words, “Yeah, of course I do. Why else would you be in the middle of god knows where England?” 

“Maybe I like the countryside?” Sorcha joked. “But seriously, I love you Cor. You’re my best friend.” 

The line was silent for a moment as the siblings took in the sincerity of their words and the situation they were in. Tears threatened to escape Sorcha's eyes, but she forced them back, not wanting to end the call on a sad note. 

“If I’m your best friend you are severely fucked.” A burst of laughter came from Sorcha, bouncing off the club’s walls, “Love you too, Uan. I’ll see you soon, ok?” 

“See you soon.” 

The line disconnected with a loud click as Sorcha leaned against the wall. Her lips turned upward, a melancholy feeling spreading across her chest as she gained composure. She finally put the phone back in its place before turning back to the open space of the club. 

“Jesus Christ,” Sorcha's eyes widened when she saw Rosie casually sitting a few feet away from her. She felt as if she had been caught, though she had done nothing wrong. “How- how long have you been here?” 

Rosie immediately regretted his previous choices, eyes widening, and feeling like the creep he so desperately tried not to be. He quickly rose to his feet in an awkward attempt to clear the anxiety in the room. “Oh, not that long. I didn’t hear anything if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“That means you did hear something,” Sorcha narrowed her eyes at Rosie as she sized him up, “everyone says that when they’ve actually eavesdropped.” 

“Well, I wasn’t actively trying to listen in.” Rosie rushed to explain himself, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. As much as he wanted to see Sorcha again, this was not the way he wanted it to go. “Sound just carries.” 

As much as Sorcha wanted to stay upset, seeing Rosie stumble over his words and attempt to alleviate the situation softened her. He acted like a boy whose mother had chastised him for doing exactly what she told him not to do. His cheeks were flushed bright red, swaying side to side as he shifted on his feet, curls usually gelled down now free- she assumed from training- how could she be mad at a man who looked like that? His boyish demeanor was endearing to her, making her fight the urge to tell him everything was ok. Plus, he seemed genuinely sorry, and that counted for something. 

“That it does.” Sorcha chuckled as the annoyance faded from her face. “Care if I join you?” 

Rosie couldn’t cover the shock on his face, wordlessly gesturing to the seat across from his which Sorcha gladly took. Her lips quirked up as she looked at him, still standing, nerves and discomfort radiating off of him. After a moment Sorcha nodded to the chair Rosie had previously occupied, the realization that he was still standing dawned on him, and he made no haste to sit down again. 

“So,” Sorcha began, a light teasing smile finding its way onto her face, “Hear anything interesting?”

“Well- maybe,” Rosie flushed at her insinuation, stopping himself when Sorcha raised an eyebrow,  “The best answer is no, isn't it?”

“Without question.”

The two fell into a comfortable bout of light laughter, Sorcha's unfailing smile easing Rosie’s nerves. His previous wishes of the conversation starting a different way all went out the window when she flashed that smile, the same one that had been occupying his thoughts for over a week now. 

“Not that I was eavesdropping,” Sorcha quirked her eyebrows but let Rosie continue, “But you mentioned Saint Patrick's. That's the big cathedral in Manhattan, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Why did you mention it?” Rosie asked, hesitance evident in his voice, adding to the anxiety he already felt.

“My little brother and I always promised each other that both of our weddings would be held there.”

“Oh.” Rosie’s casual smile dropped at the dreamy look on Sorcha’s face, his mind connecting the dots. He approached the topic with trepidation, “Did the maj- Did you get proposed to recently?”

A smattering of scarlet found its way to Sorcha’s cheeks, “Oh! God no,” Sorcha’s hands went up, waving off the question. “No, no one’s been proposed to except for my brother’s now-wife.” 

Rosie prayed Sorcha didn’t catch the relieved breath that left his lips, “Is he back in the States?”

“No, as much as I wish he was,” Sorcha sighed, “he’s with the 61st over by Cambridge. Flying Spitfires and whatnot.”

Sorcha could tell Rosie wanted to ask something else, glancing at his twitching hands, one rubbing back and forth over his mouth, the other fiddling with a loose string on his seat. She cursed him internally for making her pay attention to his lips, wishing she was immune to his unknowing charm. Before her thoughts could get too deep and merge into thinking about her newfound attraction for the man, Rosie spoke up, “Why Saint Patrick’s?”

“When Cormack and I were younger our parents would take us there each time we visited Manhattan. We usually went down on Sundays, giving my mother an excuse for us to attend mass. Honestly, it was probably one of the only times I’ve looked forward to church.” Sorcha laughed to herself before continuing, “Anyways, Cormack and I would spend the entire mass staring at all the intricate carvings and statues along the pews. After mass ended, we’d line up with the other tourists, stopping to pray at each statue per my mother’s request. On weeks when we had planned to go, my mother would work a few extra hours just so she could have enough change to light a few candles.”

Rosie watched Sorcha’s face light up as she spoke, not daring to interrupt the praises that fell from her lips about a landmark he knew so little about. She spoke so adoringly about the place, a wistful smile permanently gracing her features. Sorcha’s eyes softened almost to the point of closing as she reminisced about the past, something that Rosie found endearing. He inferred that the ‘Cormack’ she spoke of was her younger brother, picking up on the closeness of their relationship. In all honesty, Rosie knew little about Catholic traditions, only recognizing the building she spoke of. Nevertheless, he nodded his head along dutifully, memorizing her features as she spoke. 

Coming out of her trance, Sorcha met Rosie’s eyes again. His baby-blue eyes held an emotion she couldn’t place, a look she had never received. The two sat in silence as they stared at each other, Sorcha getting lost in the calmness and familiarity Rosie’s gaze posed. She wasn’t normally someone who became speechless, but there was something about the sincerity with which she spoke, uncharacteristically divulging stories about her life in New York that got her. Catching herself once again, Sorcha tried to speak, having to clear her throat, “Sorry… I have a bad tendency of talking too much, or talking at people and not letting them get a word in.”

“No need to apologize,” Rosie said with an easy smile that gave Sorcha all the reassurance she needed, “It’s nice to hear someone talk about home and I can give a face to the place. I’m the same way when it comes to talking about my sister.”

“You never said you have a sister!” 

Rosie chuckled at Sorcha’s words, giving her a look as if to say, ‘Really?’ to which she immediately rescinded her shock. A sheepish smile found its way to her face, taking a small inhale before speaking again, “What’s her name?”

“Jeanette. She’s married as well, which drives my Ma crazy since I should be married according to her.” Rosie chuckled, head ducking down in slight embarrassment, “Jean doesn’t pester me about it, which is nice. All of her letters are brief updates from home, mainly how our Ma drives her crazy.”

“That’s sweet.” Sorcha smiled, “I only get letters from Cormack and my mom, both constantly about this whole thing going on.” 

A deep chuckle came from Rosie at her flippancy regarding the situation, “If you want, I could pester Jean to give me some more updates about home? I know Brooklyn and the Bronx aren’t the same, but…” Rosie trailed off, trying to gauge Sorcha’s reaction to his offer. 

“I would love that!” Sorcha beamed, causing warmth to bloom in Rosie's chest, “It’ll be nice to hear something other than what the papers print.”

Before Rosie could continue the conversation, crews started flowing into the club, the atmosphere shifting to one of exhaustion. Sorcha spied the Riviters navigator, Bailey, and who she assumed was the rest of the crew alongside him. She gave the men a shy wave, catching Rosie’s attention as he turned to face his men. 

“I should get going.” Sorcha sighed as she stood and flattened her skirt, “It was nice chatting with you, Rosie. We should do it again sometime, albeit in different circumstances.”

A light blush dusted Rosie’s cheeks at Sorcha’s teasing, nodding his head in agreement. The two gave each other a silent goodbye as Sorcha weaved through the crowd of men in search of the exit. A satisfied smile rested on Rosie’s lips, shaking his head to clear any embarrassing thoughts. 

Pappy was quick to take the seat previously occupied by Sorcha, a questioning look on his face as he took in his friend's shy demeanor. “Should I ask what you two were chatting about that’s got you looking like a teenager?”

“Oh, you know,” Rosie spoke, teasing evident in his voice as he shrugged, “Marriage.”

[ikemenlibrary]

Fingerprints (Ikémen Prince)

Pairing: Leon Dompteur x MC (can be read as Belle or pre-Belle, or post-Belle with considerable canon diversion) Summary: In the quiet of the night, with foreheads pressed together, they admit to each other what they've always wanted

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Spoilers for Leon's route if you squint, pining, mentions of bruising (nothing negative)

A note from the author: First piece for my untitled playlist series, based off of the song 'fingerprints' by Lilli Furfaro, written for @kokorokai

There was something so peaceful about the quiet of late night, when everyone and everything else besides the sky was asleep. She was able to use the time to admire Leon. their breathing intermingling at every breath; when she inhales, he exhales, and vice versa. She felt his shoulder brush her own with every rise and fall of his chest, and the panging in her heart reminded her that he was just being kind, she may never be allowed to lay with the prince like this once more. Yet, it also reminded her just how much her body craved his. 

He had fallen asleep on his stomach; one arm under the pillow, the other under his head. She suspected he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He was in the middle of a sentence, telling her about the first time he ever snuck out of the palace as a kid. He had just gotten to the part where he made it to town when his words tapered off, and his breathing evened out. She hoped that he’d remember the rest of the story once he woke up.

They had spent the day together in town, ending in a tavern for a late dinner and a drink. She could still hear his laugh clear as day, and picture the way his eyes crinkled along with his charming smile as she admitted to him she may be far more drunk than she had originally thought possible. He had carried her on his back to the little inn off of town, where he would stay with her when they had spent a long day together. 

Normally, they’d book a room with two beds, or sometimes two rooms, depending on availability. Leon didn’t like to go back to the palace without having breakfast with her, and he knew if he went back for the evening, Sariel would put him under lock and key and it’d be a bit of time before he could sneak back to see her once again. This time, however, the owner of the inn smiled full of regret as he relayed the information to Leon: that due to the time of the year, he was extra booked, and wouldn’t be able to provide them with two rooms or beds; a queen size bed was all he could give. 

Leon was a gentleman, and kind enough that he’d refuse to let a woman relax without something more comfortable to wear, and so he stripped down to his under clothes, unbuttoning his white long sleeve and handing it to her, turning around and refusing to look again until he heard her flop back down on the bed. He had approached the bed, sliding onto his stomach as he tried to make her laugh, and succeeding, and then had kept talking to her late until the night as he grew more and more weary with every word. 

She was sober now, and still awake. She could still smell the sweet honey mead on his breath, temporarily unable to move away from the intimacy of their position. Days like this, she wanted to savor every moment. She never got much sleep during her time with Leon, and yet no matter how sleep deprived she ended up, she always couldn’t wait for more. She’d count down the days until he showed up at the doorstep of her bookshop with a smile on her face, ready to whisk her away like one of the princes in the fairytales she spent countless lonely nights reading. 

Even in the dim moonlight, she noticed the light scars littered on his skin, and the freckle that was on his back - right near his spine. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch the bare skin, tracing every line to memory, so that when she closed her eyes on the lonely nights, it was like he was still next to her, even when he wasn’t.

They were just friends, although all the time they spent together brought a pit of nervousness to her stomach, the kind of feeling that you read about in books when the main character meets the person they’re supposed to end up with in the end. She’d never admit this feeling to Leon though; he relied on her for a sense of normalcy. She was the one person who knew his secret, and although she found out on accident, he still appreciated her knowing and keeping it safe, yet giving him a chance to live out what could have been. 

The close proximity to his warm body was almost suffocating, the feeling of his shoulder rubbing against hers with each breath was almost enough to drive her mad. She couldn’t stand being this close, and yet not being as close as she wanted to be. Not in the late of the night, and not when heavy rain was pouring down, reminding her of when he told her of his past. It made her yearn to touch him, and smooth back the hair that had fallen into his eyes as he dropped all of his facades while he slept. Here, he could just be Leon. The Leon that she loved and adored with all of her heart. The Leon that would be left in this little room once morning came, and not to be seen again until they made it back here, maybe weeks from now - or maybe months from now.

Pushing the quilt off of her, she slipped out of bed and crossed the small room, perching on the chair set by the window. She was grateful Leon had fallen asleep before he could move himself to the chair; she knew if he got what he wanted, he would’ve slept sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest with his neck cranked awkwardly one way or another. She also knew that he wouldn’t even complain the next morning about the uncomfortableness, even though she knew that every time he turned his head, a shooting pain would creep up his neck. He’d hide his grimace with a smile and ruffle her hair to try and dissuade her worries; she could read him like an open book, that alone wouldn’t be enough to keep her from fretting. The best case scenario was that he slept in the bed all through the night, and she kept watch by the window.  

She pushed the curtain aside, watching the rain pour down for a few moments, her fingers tracing the water down the glass. She pressed her hand against the cold glass, watching as it fogged up around her warm hand. Her gaze fell on Leon’s sleeping form, the rise and fall of his back bringing her a sense of peace and longing. How she wished she could press her fingertips to his bare skin, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to leave a piece of her on his skin for the days they were apart. Every time Leon hugged her goodbye and his hands would gently grip her waist, she felt it for days afterwards, when she closed her eyes at night in her bedroom all alone, if she thought hard enough about it, it almost felt like he was holding her, and that alone was enough to warm her bed on cold rainy nights, much like tonight. 

She loved him. She loved Leon, the prince side, the commoner side, and everything in between. Even from across the room, her heart didn’t feel like it could take much more of the love that she held for him. She knew soon, it would burst. She would end up telling him one way or another, and she would probably never see him again after that. She knew she needed to keep it to herself if she wanted to keep Leon close. She couldn’t lose him, and she wouldn’t let him lose the side of himself only she was allowed to see. She liked the vulnerable and emotional Leon; she didn’t want that side of him to disappear once he realized that she had fallen in love with him. He was her friend; she couldn’t take advantage of his kindness for anything more than that. Not when they both had everything to lose by her feelings becoming less than private.

“Hey,” Leon’s voice came out low and groggy. He had rolled over and pushed himself up, his muscles in his arm tensing from his weight. “What’s wrong?”

He knew her too well. She knows she doesn’t hide her emotions well, everything was written on her face. She didn’t think he’d wake up, and even if he did, she had hoped the room was dark enough he wouldn’t be able to see her features clearly. And yet, even in the dark night, Leon could tell that her brain was working a mile a minute, especially when the creases in her forehead were highlighted by the moonlight creeping in the window where she had pushed the curtain aside.

“Nothing,” she smiled, suddenly feeling small in the arm chair. “It’s okay.”

Leon rubbed his eyes, and she took that moment to admire him, the saliva in her mouth going dry as she tried to memorize the smooth planes of skin. He was like porcelain; beautiful to look at, but fragile to the touch. She knew commoners shouldn’t even dream about touching a prince in this sort of setting, yet that was all she could imagine at that moment.

“If you’re sure,” Leon acquiesced, scooting over on the bed to leave his warm space open for her. “Why don’t you come get some rest?”

She wanted to say no, to keep the distance between them. She knew that being as close to him as she was before would only force the ache in her heart to throb harder. And yet, when he opened one of his arms as an invitation, she found herself standing, his shirt that she was wearing dropping to her knees, and she was aware that she was more bare in front of him than she had ever been in front of a man before. She crossed the room, their eyes never leaving sight of the other, and as she lifted the covers to slide in, Leon’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest.

He was cold, she felt the goosebumps against her cheek as her head fell into the center of his chest, his arm never leaving her, only slipping down to her waist, and as he accidentally grazed his fingers against her bare thigh, she stopped breathing for a moment. Skin on skin; he left his fingerprints on not only her heart, but her body now, in a place that no man had ever touched before. In a place that she dreamed no other man besides him would ever leave fingerprints on.

Hesitantly, she brought her hand up near her head, using her fingernail to trace patterns on his chest. Leon’s breathing faltered, and for a second, in that one brief hitch in his breath, she had hopes that he felt the same way for her as she did for him. Much like she did to the glass, she pressed her fingers onto his skin, this time on his chest, right where his heart lay. Leon used his free hand to tilt her chin up, and when her eyes met his, she found the intense look in his gaze hypnotizing. Everything about him made her dizzy. 

His touch was gentle as his thumb rubbed circles on her waist. He was careful where he touched her - always the gentleman - and yet the heat in his gaze was enough to make her feel like she was on fire. She was hyper-aware of every movement, and she was afraid that once she took her hand away from his heart, the spell would be broken. But even so, she used that hand to trace up his collarbones, to his neck, to cup his cheek, thumb gently caressing his cheekbone.

Leon closed his eyes, leaned into her touch, and she felt her heart throb more intensely than before. He was beautiful like this, completely open and relaxed. She loved him like this. She loved him any time, but especially like this. Wordlessly, his hand slipped under the shirt she had borrowed, and his fingers resumed their place on her hip, like there were divots in her skin for them to lay; it felt like he belonged here.

“Leon,” she whispered, and he wordlessly turned his head, pressing a kiss into her palm. “I–”

“I know,” He responded, his fingers pressing a little more into her skin. She knew she’d feel him on her for months. This, right here, was enough to live off of if she never had to see him again. And yet, she wanted more. Maybe it was selfish but even if it was, she’d do it one hundred times over again; she moved her head to kiss his shoulder, her lips ghosting over his soft skin, and she felt a tremble wrack through his body. “I do too.”

She was going to tell him she loves him, that he was the reason that she loved romance stories so much, and she always pictured him as the prince in the stories she read in her bed alone at night. She was going to tell him she wanted to hold him like this for many more nights. She didn’t know what he thought she was going to say, but the throbbing in the pit of her stomach told her that he knew what she wanted, and he wanted it too. Maybe it was the darkness that gave her that confidence, or maybe it was the way their bodies melded into one another as he held her close, his fingers on her skin so sure of himself. Either way, right here, and right now, she knew that Leon wanted to hold onto her the way she always dreamed he would. 

He opened his eyes now, their gold still dazzling in the darkness, studying her face. She gazed back, her thumb resuming the soothing strokes on his cheek as he lowered his head, pressing his forehead against her own. He came closer, his nose nudging her own, the sweetness of his breath fanning over her lips. This was the closest Leon had ever been, and yet she was selfish once more, moving her hand from his cheek to cup the back of his neck just to pull him slightly closer, her fingers pressing there as well. If he was allowing her to touch him like this, she would leave as many fingerprints on him as he could, so maybe, he too, would feel her touch when he went to bed on his own the next night.

“I wanted to say it first,” Leon whispered, his lips almost brushing her own.

Her full heart burst, and without responding, she weaved her fingers in his hair and closed the tiny space between their lips. His grip on her hip tightened even more as he met her lips just as eagerly, and she hoped his fingers would leave small bruises on her hip, just so that she could convince herself that after tonight was over, that it actually happened. Physical concrete proof that Leon Dompteur adored her in this moment, in the tiny inn, during the middle of the night in a rainstorm.

“I love you,” Leon breathed into her mouth, his lips never once leaving hers as he continued to repeat it over and over, like a mantra. “I love you, I love you.” And she met his chants with her own, a repeat of his confession sliding off of her tongue and onto his.

[5aaliyah5]

Textbooks Couldn’t Prepare Me for This

Chapter 3: Communication

Pairing: Professor Hange x Student Reader/ Roommates AU

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Notes:

Not many notes this chapter. Just am asking for feedback for those who are interested in this series/ are reading these. The feedback really helps me decide weather I want to continue this series and how I should end it. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

This was what Y/N had looked forward to when she had dreamed of college when she was younger. The school workload had been relatively light as it was only the first few weeks. Y/N had managed to lock down a job at a nearby Coffee shop, with the manager praising her interview and letting her know she could start work on Monday, which gave her money for rent and other expenses. And here she was, sitting with her new friend group, eating at Carla’s Diner, and getting to know one another better. She and Jean had briefly chatted after class and through text messages, with Y/N asking for clarification on a few of their homework problems and discussions. Jean- who was ever confident in his answers- helped her. She appreciated it, and wished she could help Jean one day. 

“Carla’s is the best!” Connie exclaimed as he dug into his burger, taking a rather big bite. It did look rather good, and Y/N was slightly envious of Connie’s food, as she had just gotten a basic BLT. She hadn't been hungry when she ordered, though with all the food at the table, she quickly grew hungry. She couldn't resist, especially with the way the food looked and smelled. 

“I’m so glad you both got to meet beforehand,” Y/N told Jean “Though I was a bit surprised and confused about who you were when you came up to me after class. I got kinda scared during the lecture because you kept staring at me-” Y/N laughed. 

“Also- sorry Y/N for not warning you.” Sasha jumped in, and then she took a big bite of her baked potato. In between bites, she added “I didn't know you both had a class with one another and thought you wouldn't meet until today-” 

“It’s fine Sash.“ Y/N assured the girl “I'm relieved that someone I know is in one of my classes. I was nervous that this semester, it would just be me alone on a new campus but now there is someone I can talk to in my class.” Y/N smiled and Jean blushed. 

“Yeah, same.” He quickly answered and then ate a bite of his pasta. “So what do you think of Professor Zoe?” Jean asked Y/n, and Y/N immediately perked up a little bit. 

“Why do you ask?” She responded a little too quickly and internally winced at her immediate defense. 

Jean, picking up at the slight tension, tried to explain. He wasn’t sure why Y/N was suddenly tense, but he would try his best to ease her nerves “I think they are a cool Professor, and there are much worse ones. I’m taking Professor Ackerman and he’s a pain. Doesn’t post the lecture slides and talks way too fast to get proper notes.” he sighed as he picked at his pasta. 

“Oh yeah! H-“ Y/N stopped herself. She wanted to tell Jean how Hange had told her that Levi was a strict teacher but then stopped. She revised her original statement “Heard another student talking about him. But I heard he does provide a lot of support for students not understanding it…” 

“Well, yeah, I can’t argue with that…” Jean trailed off his words. 

“Jean just hates asking for help.” Connie offered the explanation and Sasha laughed. 

“Connie!” Jean snapped his head at Connie, and that made everyone but Jean laugh even harder. 

“It's true dude! You can't ask for help to save your life!” More laughing ensured, and now Jean joined in. Yeah, this was the life Y/N dreamed of when she was little. Good food, sitting at a table with friends and enjoying time with one another, joking, making memories. It had been hard to see when Y/N was younger, but now she could see it. 

This was who she was meant to be. 

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“Okay, repeat the mission to me.” Y/N and Hange sat in Hange’s car Y/N didn't even know that Hange knew how to drive, much less have a car. They had explained that they kept it parked in the designated parking spot and usually only used it for grocery runs, gatherings with their friends, or small road trips.

Y/N had gotten home from Lunch with her friends when Hange had asked her if she wanted to go to the store with them. She had said yes, as she needed to pick up some of her things, as well as didn't feel right leaving the chore to Hange alone. She needed to contribute to the household in some way, and paying for half of the groceries felt like a good start. 

Y/N looked over at their outfit, noting how they looked comfortable today. They were dressed in a white tank top with dark blue jeans, a cardigan, and ankle-high boots that looked almost like they could be used for hiking. “We are splitting up to get groceries we need for the week. I have the list you gave me right here-” Y/N held up the list. They had made a list together and had split the cost. Y/N would pay for whatever she needed or wanted and the agreed-upon groceries that they would need to meal plan for the next two weeks, and Hange would do the same. “If we run into one another while in the store, we don't even look at one another. Pretend we don't know each other.”

“Good. Make sure to stick to the game plan Y/N.” They took the keys out of the ignition and grabbed the water bottle they had brought to drink while in the store. Wow, they did act older than Y/N, and then Y/N reminded herself they were older than her, of course, they acted like it.

“You don't have to worry about me.” Y/N grabbed her purse from underneath her feet. “We meet back in the car after we are both done?” 

“Yup. Okay- let's go.” Y/N got out of the car quickly, looking around as she rushed ahead of Hange, with them staying behind to make sure the car was locked up. Y/N entered the store and felt the air conditioner hit her when she entered. It was nice, as the weather had been hot and so had the car while they were driving there. 

“Okay- I should get what I need first…” Y/N looked at the additions she had made to this list, the first of them being skincare. She had needed that for the past two weeks but had yet to go to the store. Y/N walked toward the convenience beauty section part of the store, looking down the aisles before reaching the section she needed. Since she was rebuying everything she needed anyway, she decided to splurge just a little bit. She needed it, so if she spent only $3-4 more on things, then it was like she was getting a deal on it. Girl math. 

She grabbed face wash, toner, moisturizer, and some face masks. Y/N also decided to get some pimple and nose patches and threw in a matching body wash and lotion in her favorite scent just for the sake of it. Y/N also picked up everything she needed from the makeup section, including an eyeshadow palette with some crazy colors. Halloween was coming up in a month anyway, so it would get used.

After leaving the beauty section, Y/N made her way to the home goods section. She stumbled across salt and pepper shakers in the shape of rabbits and noticed they were only a dollar. She threw them into her basket immediately, not even thinking about if she would use them or not. While walking towards the cooler section, she looked back down at the rabbit shakers and smiled. They kinda looked like her and Hange. 

In the frozen section, Y/N grabbed a chicken and 2% milk, and then also decided that some eggs were on the list. Y/N gawked at the price of the eggs and then cried inside her head at the price of them as she tossed them into her cart as well.

While looking at frozen pizzas, Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to expect Hange, however, when her eyes met with an individual who was not Hange, she was startled.  “Oh-!” Y/N jumped back in the aisle as two more people approached her. “Hello- do we know one another?” 

“Ah, you and I take the same English class?” The blonde offered and Y/N blinked a few times, trying to recall his face. He wore a green shirt with a black undershirt with long sleeves, and Black glasses.  

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t recognize you- but that’s nothing against you! I just have a shitty memory when it comes to faces and names-“ Great. Making lots of new friends with that excuse… 

“That’s okay! I only remembered you because you told Professor Zacharius with an intuitive opinion on your paper’s thesis.” And then it clicked. 

“You sit near the front, right? I remember you! Armin, right?” Y/n snapped her fingers, excited at her remembrance. “You’re a sophomore, a marine biologist major!” 

“Yes! And these are my friends-“ Armin motioned to the two people he was with “This is Mikasa and Eren.” Y/N took note of their appearances. Mikasa dressed more darkly, with a red plaid skirt and black long-sleeve shirt. Y/N loved the necklaces around her neck. Eren on the other hand was rather plain, with no notable characteristics about him. 

“Eren Yeager?” Oh- “Is your mom Carla? Like- the Carla who owns the Diner near campus?” Eren blushed at Y/N’s question. 

“Yeah.” He responded, and Y/N deduced that maybe he didn't like to talk about it given his closed-off body mannerisms. 

“I see.” Y/N said as she turned her attention back to Armin “So, What are you doing here? Picking up some groceries?” 

“No, we were in the area and our movie doesn't start for another hour, so we were gonna grab snacks to sneak into the theaters.” He said and pulled out his phone to show her the movie. It read: Attack on Titan: The Last Attack. Y/N remembered it was some movie about a war that happened a while ago, and internally thought of how it was interesting that this group of young kids wanted to go watch that. 

“Nice. I wish you luck with that.” Y/N opened a freezer door, the cool air hitting her face as she grabbed a simple pepperoni pizza “By the way, did you finish the paper outline that we have due on Tuesday?” 

“Yeah, did you have trouble with it?” He asked, placing his phone in his back pocket.

“No, but it did take me a while to write about my topic since it included some heavy research.” She sighed “I'm just glad I got it done and turned it in on time.” 

“Yeah, same.” Armin nodded “Well, I'll see you on Wednesday Y/N!” 

“Bye!” Y/N waved and then went back to the list in her hand. hange's handwriting was messier than Y/N had previously thought, as she struggled to make out whether Hange wanted three Potatoes or Tomatoes. Y/N gave up and just grabbed both, as she went to check out and paid. 

When she went outside, Hange was already in the car, and Y/N could see the groceries they had gotten in the backseat. “Sorry if I took a while. I ran into a classmate-” She opened the back door and put in her bags of groceries alongside Hange’s and then got into the passenger seat beside them. 

“That's okay! Did you get everything?” They took a sip from their water bottle, finishing up the remainder of it, as Y/N put on her seat belt. 

“Yeah… but I got kinda confused on whether you wanted Potatoes or Tomatoes,” Y/N admitted as she showed Hange the list  

“Y/N… That says Alfredo…” Hange said, their face serious as they looked at her. Y/N could feel the blood leave her face.  

“YOU ARE LYING!” Y/N sat up in the seat, as she grabbed the list back from Hange and looked at it again. 

“OKAY OKAY- I am lying!” They broke out into a laugh as they patted her on the back “It said Potatoes. I was gonna make a soup with the chicken and potatoes.” Y/N calmed down and then rolled her eyes. 

“Okay…well, you can add Tomatoes to that soup because I got both.” She crossed her arms and Hange started the car, driving forward and leaving the parking lot. 

“No problem. I think that will be a nice addition to the soup.” They had calmed as well, and the rest of the car ride was filled with the music from the radio.  

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Finally, it was Sunday. Sundays were a great day for Y/N, as she used that day to do laundry and mostly relax. Now that she had her skincare, she could also do that today, and read a book. And then later, after dinner, she and Hange could watch the second Twilight movie- which in Y/N’s experience was the stupidest one, but also the best one. 

However, when Y/N awoke, she was surprised by the knock on their front door that could be heard. She groggily got out of bed and made her way to the living room to investigate, slipping on her slippers so that she wouldn't have to worry about the cold floor on her still warm feet.

“Someone is at the door? This early in the morning?” Y/N asked as she walked towards the door. Her slippers made loud flopping noises as she walked and they slightly slipped off and back on her feet. Hange, not having any classes this morning as it was Sunday, simply shrugged.  

“Maybe a package? I did order a few things this week but they said they weren't coming for at least another week.” They said, scrolling on their phone as they drank their coffee in the living room. It was most likely they were reading the news, as they did every morning, and Y/N found it funny that they did so. When Hange had asked how Y/N gets her information and news, she had told them Tiktok and they laughed at her.

“Hm.” There was no peephole for Y/N to look out the door and see who it was, and no windows near the door to determine whether she should open it. She figured Hange was right there watching her, less than 5 feet from her, and they wouldn't let anything bad happen to her so she opened the door. 

Unfortunately, she wished she had just pretended that she wasn't there, as when she opened the door, she was greeted by a familiar and friendly face, though not a face she wanted to see right now. 

“Y/N!” Sasha beamed “Sorry to wake you up, but you won't believe what happened yeste-” Sasha looked into the apartment, and stopped mid-sentence as she locked eyes with a messy Hange, still in their night clothes and hair down. “What the hell?!” Sasha jumped back, her ponytail swishing harshly. She had a look of horror as she loudly asked “Professor Zoë? Are you guys fu-”

“Sasha!” Y/N could feel the blood rush to her cheeks at Sasha’s question- even if she didn't finish it. “We are- We are not sleeping together” Y/N answered the second portion much more quietly, as she pulled Sasha into the apartment to explain the entire thing to her…

[thereaderinsertlady]

Break up prank with mario! But its total fluff and they don’t actually break up. Gender neutral reader. Thanks

I maaay have missed the 'total' fluff part of this equation. Lol. Anywho, here's the link on ao3, and I hope you enjoy!

‎

Mario x Reader - The Not-So Good Idea

Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 

It was something harmless you had thought of in your freetime. Of course it wasn’t April Fools anymore, but you just wanted to play around with Mario! Just a little prank! You had never intended for it to be anything serious– You’d catch him at the front door, prank him, and move on with the day.

…But, as you stood outside of the shared bedroom’s door, your stomach was in knots.

Your grand idea was to, solemnly, go up to Mario and ‘break up’ with him. Originally, you thought he would jump up in surprise and you’d laugh before telling him that it was just a prank... But when you saw his deep frown, your mouth immediately went dry. Even as he walked past you to head inside, not a word came from your dumb little lips.

Yeah, you fucked up. 

“Mario?” You lightly knocked. “Can I come iiin?” 

When there wasn’t a noise coming from the other side, you winced, recalling how tired he seemed when he first opened the front door– How his lips tugged into a relieved smile and his hunched shoulders sank in relief when his eyes first landed on you. Mario didn’t say much, but his actions told you everything you needed to know. 

You knocked again, sighing. You weren’t the brightest bulb in the Kingdom, but this was a new low for you. You should’ve known that your idea was absolutely shitty. Not even Bowser himself would’ve ever thought of such a prank… well, not like he had anyone relationship-wise to use that prank on.

Even though you weren’t sure Mario was listening, you began to speak. “Look,” you began softly. “I just…” You just what? What were you going to say to fix this? You had no intention of ever actually breaking up with Mario, but he probably thinks otherwise now. “I… um… I’m sorry. I meant for that to be a prank, not… not anything serious.”

Silence.

You frowned, eyes feeling hot and heavy. In a way, you felt like a sad puppy, trying to beg for forgiveness. “Shit… I just wanted to get your heart beating a little– I really just wanted it to be a simple prank. When you looked at me like that, my mind went blank– I-I couldn’t get anything out.”

…

There was a languid sigh before footsteps could be heard. The door slowly creaked open.

Mario stood before you, his expression a mix of confusion, concern, and hurt. His normally cheerful demeanor seemed overshadowed by the weight of your ill-conceived prank. You could see the hurt in his eyes, and it pained you to think that you were the cause of it.

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," you continued, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I should have known better than to play with something as important as our relationship. It was… thoughtless of me, and I'm truly sorry."

Mario remained silent for a moment, his gaze locked with yours. Then, he let out a sigh and spoke softly, "I know you… you didn't mean it, but it still hurt. Relationships are, ah… are built ona trust, and when you-ah pretended to break up with me, even as a prank, it made me question that trust."

You blinked rapidly, a bit surprised that he spoke up. He wasn’t the best with English and was typically mute, so it was very much a surprise to you when you heard his voice. His words struck a chord within you, and after a pause, you felt a wave of guilt wash over. You had taken for granted the bond you shared with Mario, and now you were facing the consequences of your actions.

You took in a steading breath, closing your eyes for a moment. “I’m very sorry– I was being… stupid. I just wanted to make you laugh…”

He reached over to grab your hands, giving them a light squeeze. He said a few words in Italian– something you couldn’t really understand, but his tone sounded comforting so you relaxed. Mario's touch and comforting tone eased the tension that had built up within you, and you allowed your shoulders to sink. His actions spoke louder than any language, conveying his forgiveness and understanding. You opened your eyes and gazed into his own, feeling a mixture of gratitude and relief.

“Can we… uhm… forget that this ever happened and go cook dinner together?” You asked a bit sheepishly. 

Mario nodded gently, his grip on your hands tightening slightly. It was as if he wanted to convey his reassurance and support through the simple act of touch. You couldn't help but be reminded of all the times he had been there for you, rescuing you from dangerous situations, and providing comfort in difficult times. Mario had always been the embodiment of resilience and optimism, and his ability to forgive and move forward was a testament to his character. It was a reminder of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

Mario's lips curled up into a small smile, a glimmer of warmth returning to his eyes. "Si, let's-a-go," he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. He released your hands, gesturing for you to go ahead of him.

You walked through the house and over to the small kitchenette. Mario had always loved cooking, and it had become a shared passion between the two of you.

He stepped over to the cabinet, pulling out a pan. With a renewed determination to make amends, you approached Mario and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He paused, placing the pan onto the countertop before smiling, turning around, and hugging you back. In that moment, you knew that things would be okay– that your relationship was strong enough to overcome your stupid mistake.

Together, you spent the evening preparing a delicious meal, laughter and lightness returning to your interactions. As you chopped vegetables and stirred pots, the tension of the earlier misunderstanding melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and appreciation for one another.

[soaps-mohawk]

I know I’ve sent you something before but i genuinely can not get your fic out of my mind and now need to say something else. It irks my soul (in a good way I promise😭) that the reader won’t just tell them what she needs. But it’s also so understandable bc why would she? No matter if they’re her pack or not she doesn’t fully trust them.

But also seeing the vision fo her finally asking for what she wants. Seeing her finally kneel (in a non-sexual way) is going to be something that I will eat up immediately. Like everytime it’s mentioned I cross my fingers for it to be in the chapter.

Also (I’m so sorry for the ramble) Ghost finally warming up to her???? The absolute best part, like okay go girl you get that man. I think the only thing that made me want to strangle them was the fact that Price didn’t even tell her anything.

Like i would be so mad😭 even if it wasn’t meant that way like her feet are hurting horribly (the blisters show that) she was obviously tired and didn’t know what was happening and was being used as bait? Bro I hope Soap and Gaz told Price about the blisters and he felt bad bc wtf😭

so if you can’t tell i love your story. HAVE A GOOD DAY🫶🏻🫶🏻

Aah don't ever apologize for rambling 🥺 I love it when people have thoughts about my writing 🫶 (no but I've literally gotten inspiration from people's rambles before so...don't ever feel bad for doing it)

Ugh reader and her issue with feeling like she shouldn't want things hits me so hard like...part of me just wants to scream at her to ask but also part of me gets it 😭 (ik I'm the writer but sometimes these things have a mind of their own). But I get it, I wouldn't fully trust them either. Not after just a week.

Yaass Ghost is finally starting to see the light...kind of. He's a tough nut to crack and it's gonna take a lot more work but he can't deny those instincts 🤭

Nah I'd be so mad too lol. I originally had an idea for a scene where Price decides to use the reader for hostage retrieval training, but he doesn't tell her it's training because he wants it to be as real as possible just to see how badly it would effect their ability to save her if it ever came to that. It felt a bit too mean and out of character for Price in this fic though. Cause that would stress reader out so badly and that could be dangerous. I don't think he'd risk that.

Aah thank you so much. Always feel free to come in here and ramble with your thoughts. I will read them and eat them up like a delicious meal 💚 y'all are feeding me with this kindness and support for this story fr

[dosesofcommonsense]

(From Brian Cates on Telegram)

Election interference to ensure Biden ‘won’ and Trump ‘lost’ is only the tip of the Censorship State iceberg.

The US government censored its own citizens in direct violation of their 1st Amendment rights to drive politicized narratives that turned out to be LIES.

Our ‘public servants’ put their boots on the necks of millions of Americans and pressed down…HARD…because they were TELLING THE TRUTH.

About stollen and rigged elections.

About laptops.

About virus origins and nefarious and illegal bio weapons activity by our own government officials in the Alphabet agencies in Ukraine and elsewhere around the world.

About vaccines,masks and lockdowns.

About the war in Ukraine.

About Biden being competent.

Seriously, I could make a very long list of ‘The Official Big Brother Narratives of the Past 4 Years’ where federal bureaucrats working illegally behind the scenes were censoring millions of Americans for saying the ‘wrong’ things.

In case you hadn’t noticed, Big Brother runs on lies, and bothersome citizens who just can’t seem to take a hint and SHUT UP and stop challenging their government’s official narratives when they are ordered to need to be ‘managed’.

And so a shit-ton of very helpful NGO’S like Stanford Observatory were created to surreptitiously help the US government successfully ‘manage’ citizen’s speech on social media platforms and elsewhere.

A lot of people in this nation under direct and ongoing threat by an out-of-control vindictive and corrupt federal bureaucracy still don’t grasp just how bad this is.

And the great thanks they owe to those who exposed this evil Censorship State and are currently fighting the Hydra to restore to all Americans the constitutional right to free speech they had illegally taken away from them.

https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1721743484116169032?s=20

ADDENDUM:

Of course, the people who are enthusiastically in favor of all the illegal censorship activity by the State and its ‘private sector’ allies currently getting exposed are very unhappy these days.

See, they thought their ‘side’ was ‘winning’ the Great National Conversation when that conversation was rigged in their favor. They knew it wasn’t a real conversation at all.

They were HAPPY that social media discourse was being rigged and tightly controlled by political hall monitors.

They thought this meant they would win the ‘game’.

But this isn’t a really a GAME.

This is life and death.

A people that are not allowed to speak freely to their government or each other many be many things, but they are not a free people.

I meant what I said at the end of the previous post. As a people, as Americans, we have had our free speech stolen from us. We have been the targets of a massive crime committed by our own government , and the issue is still in doubt as to whether two things will happen:

1. We get our free speech, especially on social media, returned to us so we can once again exercise our God-given rights without State interference and…

2. The people in our government who violated our speech rights in dead of night using corrupt and illegal means to hide their having done this are all dragged out into the light of day and held fully accountable in such a legal manner that no one shall ever in the future attempt a repeat of such a crime.

Keep your eyes on Missouri v Biden in the courts. We won’t know if the government bastards will have to hand back our speech rights until that case is decided.

The Biden administration is currently fighting to keep The Censorship State going.

After all, over the past decade or so, the Commie Marxist scum embedded in out federal government & agencies spent an awful lot of time, money and passion in constructing their precious Censorship State apparatus.

Salivating and having wet dreams at night over the sheer amount of total speech control they were gonna have in their hands once they were done tinkering with it.

And now?

Now they risk losing it all. They can’t have that. They’re desperate to get back to the kind of rigid speech control they had just a year ago.

Well I’ve bad news for The Censorship State and all the goombahs out there who just LOVED the censorship regime because they thought this meant they were moving the ball down the field and we’re about to score.

“PERSONAL FOUL, FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TEAM, BOOT ON THE NECK OF CITIZEN TEAM, AUTOMATIC EJECTION FOR THE ENTIRE GOVERNMENT TEAM, BALL SPOTTED FOR TEAM CITIZEN AT THE 1 YARD LINE, 1ST AND GOAL!”

You weren’t winning. You cheated and created an illusion based on illegal deception and brute force.

And now you’ve been caught. The flag has been thrown.

There will be no going back. You LOST.

[fabeong]

Ascension - a SWTOR short (2)

When the Sith walked onto the bridge where Andronikos was pouring over the flashing console he only glanced up once. Then his mind registered what he saw seeing and he looked up again – because the Sith wasn’t wearing her helmet. In the dim light of the cave on Tatooine he had seen the basics; green scarred skin, diamond face tattoos, glowing yellow eyes. But here, under the bright light of the ship her features were illuminated and Andronikos couldn’t help but stare a bit.

She really was small, with skin the colour of a forest like Endor’s, and short black hair tied back in various places with basic decorations, and those scars – if Andronikos didn’t know any better he would think someone had pushed the Sith’s face into barbed wire. But damn if she wasn’t still kinda pretty, and those yellow eyes stared right back at him with a defiance that made something shiver down his spine like an electric jolt.

“Nice ship.” He said. With the silence broken the Sith came in properly, approaching the console he had been inspecting.

“You think you can fly this as well as your own?”

“Heh. I can fly anything, trust me.” Andronikos smirked, patting the consoles. The Sith’s cheeks twitched like she didn’t know how to smile, and his curiosity overtook him. “What’s the story, Sith? Seems like you know all about me and I don’t know nothing about you. You always a sicko or you just kind of fall into it, like I did?”

The Sith exhaled something close to a chuckle and fell gracefully into the captain’s chair; she peered up at him with those yellow eyes and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she would reply. But then she shrugged.

“I didn’t really have much choice.” She said. “My parents were slaves. I was a slave. Originally I was meant to be something like a housemaid, for cooking, cleaning, and… personal use.” She tossed the phrase out so casually, raising her eyebrows, and Andronikos rolled his eyes. He got the insinuation.

“But?”

“But I kept hitting back. Eventually the family… devalued me,” she gestured lightly to her face and the spiderweb of scarring, “and sent me to Kessel, to the spice mines there. Do you know it?”

Andronikos frowned – he knew Kessel well enough, and he knew the typical work and fate of the slaves one saw in those mines.

“Rough place.” He ventured, and the Sith chuckled in agreement.

“Most don’t last a year. I was there for two. Then one day the overseer was lashing me harder than he should have and…” her voice trailed off, and her gaze fell to her hands. She flexed them, and Andronikos heard the crackle of electricity, saw the sparks jump across her fingertips. He looked back up at the Sith’s face, grinning.

“Tell me you killed him.”

“One moment he was raising the whip again and the next… well, his ashes were getting all blown into the spice. I couldn’t explain what I’d done, but I remember the way everyone looked at me. One of the higher-ups must have seen, because I was handed over to the Sith just days later.”

“So here you are.”

“So here I am.”

“Funny how those Sith work.” Andronikos leant back against the ship’s wall, deciding to return the favour of a story, “I was an accountant on Moneylend when I decided I wanted a little more adventure. So I put a blaster to the head of the Intergalactic Banking Clan and walked off with a few million credits.” Just to illustrate the tale he spun his blaster out its holster and raised it at the Sith, who didn’t even blink. If anything, the twitch of her mouth solidified into the closest thing to a smile he’d seen so far. Andronikos grinned too. “Been robbing and murdering ever since.”

“Well it sounds like you made a good start. Just don’t put a blaster to my head.” Her words came out as a murmur, lovely and low without the distortion of the helmet.

“Don’t worry, Sith.” Andronikos smirked, holstering his weapon again, “I got a good survival instinct.”

There was no doubting it now, the Sith’s lips curled upwards into a smirk of her own.

“Me too.”

He paused, her yellow eyes and placid smirk filling his vision; but then a snarl came from somewhere else in the ship and the Sith looked over her shoulder, her face falling back into a guarded frown. “Khem Val. I should go.” Andronikos shook his head as she got to her feet and began to leave.

“You’ve got to tell me how you got that beast sometime.”

She paused in the doorway, looking back at him and holding up her electric hand. “Another time. I promise.”

Then the Sith was gone, her footsteps echoing through the ship and leaving Andronikos with the consoles. Promise, huh? He wouldn’t have pinned her down as a woman so easy to talk to, but he couldn’t deny the promise of more conversations… wasn’t bad. Maybe he’d even find out her name next time.

Sith. Andronikos shrugged, turning back to the ship controls. Never can figure them out.

[cpanther]

Rayvin Bounty Hunter exert 3

The planet was within view, it’s brown plains and green blue waters visible on the screen. “Guess I should have guessed there’d be some sort of conspiracy. Over populated planet like this has to have some.” * complained his green eyes on the screen watching as they approached the planet following flight path G. Using the encryption code Rayvin had checked to make sure they were expected and what path to follow. He wanted no mistakes as they came in. The control tower cleared them with only a few minor adjustments. Thankfully that was pretty standard as well. He’d expected a few minor changes due to weather patterns, and other planetary problems.

“The question is how deep does it run.” Rayvin made a course correction. His research suggested the dock authorities as well as a few of those in business were running a scam, trying ti jack prices of certain goods up while discounting others. If Rayvin was honest it was a pretty normal game. When the same sort of good or service was offered someone would try and drive the other off. Before space travel they had a limited market as well as people to sell too. These days the markets were numerous which also meant the schemes were just as many. No what bothered him was the docking officials and how the top brass weren’t involved.

It wasn’t only the dock and a few business which were in bed but a group of local office holders who appeared to have deep ties to a crime ring, again not uncommon. Many a politician got into power thanks to some crime ring or others pull. At first he’d brushed it off, but then as he dug he’d found the corruption went further, bounties were being covered up, credits changed hands in ways which were nearly untraceable, and all of it was done in the name of the SWC. That was what made Rayvin stop, what made him interested.

Now he was looking into the SWC, to see how much power they really wielded and where. He found the location of their headquarters but it appeared no one was there, the flags had been taken down, the cameras off, or at least not broadcasting. To make things even more compelling there weren’t any new edicts or resolutions listed. The last one had been four years back planet time. A drop in the bucket in galactic time. Rayvin expanded his search, finding the last time there had been any decree from the SWC. “One.” he breathed, and that wasn’t from any of the central worlds but their headwaters on the moon of Jesgor. Where the SWC had originated. “And Space patrol is no longer under their thumb.”

Leanng back his eyes closed, shutting out the lights and screens before him as he through. With Space patrol in the private hands, what happened to the bounty hunters. “Call Central.” he breathed knowing * was still there.

A moment passed and the screen lit up, the list of bounties still on display off to one side while the planet grew as they approached. “What can I do for you BH Rayvin?” The voice was soft, female and pleasant.

He’d had little contact over the years with Central but he knew her, at least by sight. She’d been in charge of things for years. How she was still alive he had no idea. As far as he knew she wasn’t traveling space like he did. “A question. I’m sure your aware what’s happened to SWC.” She nodded. “Where does that leave us?”

“Screwed at least when it comes to intergalactic crimes. SP might still pick a few up if their relatively close but they’ve lost their funding which means their not about to risk their necks.”

“Like they ever did.” Rayvin snorted. “I’ve worked the new worlds.” he added though he doubted he needed to tell her that.

Slowly her head dipped. “And made a nice name for yourself. I see you’re calling from Vabie 5. Odd place for you.”

Rayvin shrugged. “I need a ship. This one is falling apart.”

[carnelianwings]

@moonlights-melancholia

I will say I haven’t paid attention to the larger Gundam fandom … pretty much ever - but I’ve loved Seed ever since I saw it in 2002 on fansub and never saw a reason to interact with the greater Gundam fandom and mostly kept to the Seed bubble, but even within the Seed bubble I remember Shinn being a very divisive character as a whole. Also for the sake of keeping things simple, let’s assume Seed Fredom had come out earlier, and was the same as the version we have now.

This is going to get long (which is why I opted to answer this way), but the short answer is no, because we would’ve gotten Shinn’s redemption sooner. Longer answer behind the cut, because I was actually there discussing Seed Destiny on forums Back In The Day when it was airing in Japan, so I have Opinions lol.

If there’s anything I will say about Seed Freedom is that it is as much a send off to Cosmic Era as it is a “redemption arc” for not just Shinn, but Seed Destiny as a whole. That the (repeated) struggles we see for the whole cast meant something and contributed something that helped them succeed in Seed Freedom.

The thing with Seed Destiny is that at the time it was airing, no one really had the full picture of what the vision was, if you will. All we got were individual puzzle pieces of Shinn’s story week after week, and what a lot of us (myself included) missed at the time was that Shinn wasn’t meant to go through positive character development at all in Seed Destiny. His arc in Seed Destiny was always meant to be a tragedy, the story of an angry and grief stricken teenager who undergoes negative character development and progressively gets worse and worse until he’s reduced down to the only thing that’s defined him since ep 1: his anger borne of grief. It’s just that the early framing kept him in a sympathetic light before Durandal’s true agenda is revealed and suddenly we get a POV shift and Shinn loses that so now all of his actions are viewed negatively, while simultaneously he’s completed his negative character development and he’s now little more than an angry shell of whatever he could have been.

And that’s actually a great way to tell a story and develop a tragic character and set them up for a redemption arc. The character hits rock bottom - in Shinn’s case, an argument could be made this happens with the Second Battle of Orb, where he’s now willing to even open fire on his former homeland and is now the aggressor who’s potentially creating more war orphans like himself - sees the error of their ways, and undergoes positive character development from it. The problem is, this is so rarely done in modern fiction (especially with protagonists) that it’s easily written off as lazy/bad/biased writing, which is exactly what happened here, especially since the original ending is literally “Shinn and Luna are stranded on the Moon, watching the retreat flares go off and crying, instant cut to credits”.

Then we got Final Plus after, and all that really served was to make it seem like a 5 minute redemption for Shinn, because he meets Kira at the Orb memorial, they shake hands, and Kira offers to have Shinn join him and fight together. And also have Kira offer some vague metaphor about how they’ll always replant the flowers at the memorial even if they get blown away because they’ll always keep trying for peace.

… and then that was it. For nearly 20 years. There was the remaster, and that smoothed things out a bit in terms of story telling, but as a whole, it didn’t do anything to change the trajectory of Shinn’s (negative) character growth, and it certainly didn’t do anything to provide him with the redemption/atonement arc that he sorely needed to give him positive character development.

Seed Freedom fixes that, even though it’s a time skip and you can argue a lot of his growth happened off-screen. At the very least we see a brighter, more positive side of him, now that he has people around him who care about his wellbeing, along with improvements to his fighting skill. Even if he’s got a lot of comedic moments and (somehow) is the one to bring a bit of levity in an other wise fairly dark story (if you think about it with nukes and Requiem getting brought back again), it’s a positive change for him, in that he’s no longer the one who’s bringing pain and suffering. He’s actually taking actions that are heroic now, protecting civilians and shooting (or slicing, as the case may be since he’s in the Immortal Justice lol) to maim, and he’s better and stronger for it.

So yes, I do think Shinn would be less hated if we’d gotten Seed Freedom sooner. It did a lot to provide him with positive character development to offset all the negative character development he went through in Seed Destiny. He’s gone from an arguably Tragic Villain with a 5 minute redemption (and nobody likes 5 minute redemption arcs) to a proper Hero with a Tragic Backstory (complete with on screen suffering and downfall from his own flaws and misguided actions) and he’s actually a much more compelling character now. I feel like a lot of the hate for Shinn (and Seed Destiny as a whole) came from the initial reaction to it as it was airing, because I’ve been seeing a lot of people say that Seed Destiny isn’t as bad as the haters would have you believe, and I absolutely agree that that’s definitely the case (especially with the remaster).

At least, that’s where Shinn is for me now. I’ll freely admit Shinn wasn’t really a character I liked for the longest time - I wouldn’t say I hated him, but definitely one I was very neutral on, mostly because I was like “Wait he did all that for 50 episodes and he’s redeemed in the 5 minute epilogue?????” But with Seed Freedom, seeing what he’s doing now and trying to make amends for what he’s done and move forward with his life? Yeah, I can definitely get behind him and defend him as much as I’d defend Kira or Athrun.

And I definitely like him enough now to make sure he gets included for getting the bulk of my budget in SRT games alongside Kira and Athrun 😂

Replies are fine, anon asks are open, if anyone wants to hear a take (spicy or bland) on Gundam Seed, now’s your chance 😜

[corroded-hellfire]

Hey, Neighbor - Eddie Munson x Mayfield!reader

Note: Hello, everyone! So I’ve had total writer’s block lately from my novel that I’m working on, so I thought what better time to write some Eddie! So this is just something I’ve come up with that might be the start of something longer if people like it?

Summary: Reader is Max’s sister and the Mayfield’s have just moved into the trailer across from Eddie.

[Part Two]

Word Count: 1k

It was finally quiet. The only noise was the crickets chirping in the woods just beyond the trailer park. The blinding orange streaming down from the streetlight was luckily just out of your periphery vision. You inhale a lungful of the chilly autumn air and hug your knees closer to you on the front steps of your new home.

Home. It was a strange word now. Originally, home was a small house in a nice suburb in California with your mom, dad, and little sister. Then your dad disappeared from that equation. He didn’t move too far away, but the more time went on after the divorce, the less you saw of him. You thought it was hard adjusting to it just being you, your mom and Max. You didn’t know what a hard adjustment was until your mom met Neil. Neil alone, you could have dealt with. But Billy? A nightmare that was still around when you woke up. Nightmares of Billy now morphed into the large, imposing creature plunging its appendages into him. The sound, sight, and smell still stayed with you. Sometimes you’d wake, scrambling in your sheets as if you were trying to escape. Or help Billy. Probably the former though, and the thought made you feel guilty at times. You could tell Max had these feelings as well and though she wouldn’t talk about them with you, you made sure she knew she could come to you at any time with anything.

Max and your mom were finally asleep inside. You needed some time to yourself after the hectic move-in day. You appreciated everyone who came to help. Lucas and Dustin seeing who could carry the heaviest box into the house. Mike and Steve bickering as they tried to maneuver the kitchen table through the thin front door. Robin pulling you aside to laugh as Steve and Dustin argued over who was a bigger help. It meant a lot that Max – and through her, you – had such great friends who were there for you all.

“Hey.”

You look up and see a figure silhouetted in the porch light from the trailer across from yours. Eddie Munson. Robin had pointed out that the leader of the Hellfire Club lived there, exciting Dustin by reminding him that there was actually a club for D&D when they started high school next week. You hadn’t officially met Eddie but after being at Hawkins High for the last year, you’d learned who he was. And that he wasn’t the most well-liked by most people. But most people were assholes, anyway.

“Hey,” you say back.

He takes a few steps closer to you and you see him clearer. Hands tucked into his leather jacket, frizzy curls falling over his shoulder as he tilts his head to the side.

“Mayfield, right?” he asks.

“Yep,” you answer. “Y/N.”

“Munson,” he says.

“Eddie,” you reply.

“Well, look at that. Came to introduce myself to the new neighbor only to find out she already knows who I am.”

“What can I say? You’re legendary,” you say with a smirk.

He chuckles and takes another step towards you.

“So, what do you think of your lovely new slice of Heaven?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the trailer park around you.

“A dream come true,” you say.

Eddie smiles and you feel your stomach drop to your feet. Was someone else’s smile supposed to make you feel dizzy? Properly meeting Eddie for the first time, it was also the first time you were noticing how beautiful he was.

He takes a few more steps and leans against the railing of your front steps.

“You a senior?” he asks. You nod in confirmation, unsure you’d be able to speak coherently at the moment. “Me too. Third time’s a charm, right?” He takes a breath and looks around before his gaze settles back on you. “You ever play D&D?”

You smile, automatically thinking of the new young members of Hellfire Club that he has yet to meet.

“I don’t. But my little sister’s boyfriend and friends do. I’m pretty sure they’ll be signing up for Hellfire on the first day of school.”

“Good to know,” he says. “We need the next generation. I’m honestly surprised you know what Hellfire is, though.” He gives you another smile that knocks out any sense you’ve regained since he last smiled at you. “You seem too cool for that kind of stuff.”

“Cool? I don’t think so. The people who are considered cool aren’t all great, anyway. Jason? Basketball player? Ass.”

“Oh, I definitely agree with you. Aren’t you friends with Harrington, though?” Eddie asks.

Was there an edge there in his voice? Was he judging you? Or maybe…jealous? Nope. You shut that thought down right away. Wishful thinking, that’s all.

“Steve? Yeah. He’s a good guy, though. I’ve learned that wasn’t always the case, but people change.” You shrug.

“I suppose they do,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound convinced, though.

“Y/N?” you hear your mom call from inside. You groan and drop your head forward. You go to stand, and Eddie extends his hand to you, offering to help you. The heat in your face blooms and you’re glad it’s dark out so he can’t see it. You try to keep your hand from shaking as you slide yours into his. He helps you up and bows his head.

“I suppose I’ll see you around. And if not, then at school next week,” he says.

“I guess so,” you say. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He offers you one last smile and you almost trip as you step inside the trailer. You close the door and lean your back against it as your mom comes out of the hallway, tying her robe over her nightgown.

“Why were you outside?” she asks.

“Just getting some fresh air. Meeting the neighbor,” you say.

Your mom wrinkles her nose and puts her hands on her hips. “The Munson boy? I’ve heard he’s trouble.”

“From who, Mom?” you ask as you roll your eyes.

“Hawkins is small. People talk,” she says.

“People are often wrong,” you say. You move past her and head towards your room. Max’s light snores come from the room across from yours.

“Just be careful,” your mom says. She leans against your doorframe as you shrug into your pajamas. “The last thing we need is more trouble around here.”

You laugh to yourself as your mom heads back to her room. If only she’d known half of what you and Max had already been though in this town.