#that's what happens when you have three kids to keep track of i guess

[alexiroflife]

"megumi is annoyed with gojo for getting distracted with you and being late for everything because of it, so he makes it his life’s mission to ruin gojo’s chances of dating you..."

fluff, crack

gojo has a severe issue with constantly following you like a puppy dog wherever you go. after that day he had run into you on a whim at the park, your pretty (e/c) eyes locking with his as you both shared passing glances the moment your shoulders brushed, he was stuck to you. gojo stopped dead in his tracks, calling out to you and asking what your name was. you turned over your shoulder, stuttering to a stop upon realizing that handsome guy had been talking to you. you told him your name, that you attended the university down the block, and he was set.

gojo was sure to secure your number before you parted ways that day, approaching you as interested in friendship rather than someone completely enamored by your beauty and desperate to get to know you more. he would text you every day, from then on, pressing further about your hobbies and inserting himself into your daily routine, which you fortunately did not mind. the two of you end up spending a lot of time together, thoroughly enjoying each other’s presence.

megumi, ten years old, witnesses gojo’s clinginess with you fast because it quickly has an affect on how often gojo fulfills his responsibilities in looking after him. megumi remembers the first time gojo forgot about him because he was distracted by you. he had been meant to purchase and drop of megumi’s weekly groceries, but he ran into you at the supermarket and ended up helping you take your groceries home instead. megumi had to wait three hours for gojo to bring him his next week’s supply of food. things like this continued to happen the longer you to knew each other, but megumi knows it isn’t your fault that gojo is attached to you at the hip and flirts with you shamelessly but won’t muster up the courage to tell you he likes you. 

megumi’s last straw is when he is left stranded outside of his elementary school for forty-five minutes because he ran into you “eating at a cafe by yourself and you needed company.” the ten year old watches gojo pull up slowly with you in the passenger’s seat, waving at him apologetically with a kind smile. his blood boils as gojo smiles, shrugging bashfully and saying he lost track of time. megumi decides with a hastiness that he would ruin every chance gojo takes to flirt with you after the twenty one year old suddenly announces that he is driving twenty minutes opposite of his house to drop you off at your dorm. 

gojo first senses something is off when you are over at megumi’s house one day after school, looking for snacks in the cabinets. gojo and megumi are sitting at the kitchen island while megumi does his homework and gojo watches you move around with a soft smile on his lips, chin propped in his palm. you turn over your shoulder and ask the two if they have any chips, to which megumi beats gojo to answering: “gojo ate them all. he’s always eating everything in my house. i try to get him to stop, but i guess he just gets too hungry.” the white haired man slowly turns to face megumi as you carry on about your business, eyes wide and a mortified smile on his face. megumi doesn’t look at him, continuing his english homework. 

gojo knows he’s being targeted the second time around, when he suggests that you sleep over in his room because it is getting late and megumi advises you not to because he allegedly saw a nonexistent redhead leaving his room last night and is ‘worried about your exposure to lice.’ gojo chases the spikey haired kid around his living room later on after you inevitably go home, threatening to take him back to the zenin clan. 

the day megumi outright proposes that you get a boyfriend during a car ride over to your campus, gojo almost loses control of the steering wheel and decides he has to keep you as far away from megumi as possible. megumi gets his wish when gojo begins to pay more attention to the days he’s supposed to pick him up from school and separates his days with you from them accordingly, but megumi doesn’t plan to let this slide so easily. for weeks, he suffered the aftermath of gojo getting distracted by being your shadow, and for weeks gojo would suffer his karma.

when he hears you on the phone with him, megumi barges in the room and loudly asks to talk to you. you, overhearing, welcome the conversation gladly and ask gojo to hand over the phone while he glares animatedly at the boy’s blank face. he has to wait twenty minutes for megumi to finish talking monotonously about his day into the speaker, and by the time gojo gets his phone back, you have to head to a meeting with your classmates. the call ends and gojo ponders over why his kid is praying so intently over his downfall. 

and of course there are the days when you ask to come over to see gojo and megumi, and gojo is physically incapable of refusing quality time with you or telling you no in any regard. he practically begs megumi on his knees to behave five minutes before you arrive, to which the fushiguro blatantly ignores. the blue eyed sorcerer is fuming with rage as he sits across from you and megumi, watching as you help him with his science project after him asking for your assistance, a stunning, bubbly grin on your face. gojo’s initial frustrations shift into envy for your attention, and before you know it he’s pouting with his arms crossed in silence. 

megumi is satisfied with himself, concluding that gojo is officially fed up and has given up completely on pursuing you. he commends himself mutely for his successes after working so hard, though his actual enjoyment of your tranquil company made the experience more tolerable. he runs off to take a shower when you’re grabbing your belongings, preparing to uber back to your dorm. normally gojo pesters you about letting him drive you home when you’re over, so when he only flashes you a smile and holds the door for you as you walk through, you immediately think something is wrong.

the blue eyed man’s lips press together, eyes blank as he shakes and tells you everything is okay. your eyes slim in suspicion as you look over his face, unconvinced by his horrible lying skills. you ask again and he smiles again, telling you he is fine and to go enjoy the rest of your day without him. you furrow your brows in confusion before realizing that you had been busy with little megumi all day and hardly paid attention to your friend. he’s jealous. you giggle, and find it cute the way his half smile melts and he broods, perplexed by your laughter. 

you tease your friend of a few months, telling him that the next time you hang out, you two will spend the day alone. pink rises to gojo’s cheeks. “you still wanna spend time with me?” he asks and you scoff. “yeah, why wouldn’t i?” “i don’t know, i just thought megumi convinced you not to like me…”

you laugh again, the sound ringing like church bells in his ear. you tell him he’s ridiculous for getting worked up over a ten picking on him and puffs his lips and rolls his eyes. you know there is a mutual attraction shared between you and gojo. you’ve liked him since the second he asked for your number, but never said anything because he limited your relationship to what you assumed ws platonic flirting. now, watching him pout over the thought that megumi pushed you away makes you realize that there may be something real to his attachment to you.

a smug smile lifts to gojo’s face and his mood immediately improves. he tells you he’ll pick you up from your math class tomorrow for a ride, just the two of you. you hum in agreement and lean up to your tiptoes, holding the side of his face with your fingers and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “it's a date,” you say. you pull away and his expression is dopey, eyes dazed and grin bright. 

megumi runs back into the living room at the wrong time. he goes to grab his bookbag from the sofa and return it to his room when he catches a glimpse of the horror, his face scrunching in disgust as you peck gojo’s cheek at the front door. megumi turns grim, mourning over his failed plan. oh well, he tried. he wishes you luck dealing with that freak, and figures that the next time gojo annoys him, he can just save himself half the trouble and log him out of the shared netflix account.

you are halfway out the door, smile making your cheeks ache and heart bursting, when you hear megumi shouting from inside. “wash your mouth when you get home, (y/n)! you don’t know where he’s been!” you hear the front door slam and dramatic, muffled complaining follow as you walk to your uber stifling a laugh.

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! all your spooky drabbles have been amazing, you’re so talented! i was wondering if i can request a poly!marauders spooky drabble where they have a horror/slasher marathon and both reader and sirius are being insufferable trying to predict who’s the killer and remus is just being the voice of reason to all their theories and james just enabling them, asking them questions and its all fluffy?? thank you! hope you’re having a great spooky season 🎃🫶

Thank you lovely!!

cw: suggestive content

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words

“It’s that actress,” Sirius muses, voice softened the way it always gets when you play with his hair. “What’s her name?” 

“That one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mia Goth.” 

Sirius adjusts his head on your chest. “Right, her. She never really plays the innocent, does she?” 

“Mm, you don’t think they’re trying to trick us?” 

A door opens down the hall, and you jump a little. Sirius chuckles, giving you a squeeze where his arms are wound underneath your jumper. “Chicken.” 

James waltzes into the living room looking properly rumpled. He’d dragged Remus away as soon as your workerbee boyfriend had gotten home, sequestering him in your bedroom. 

“Our entertainment wasn’t good enough for you?” Sirius asks as he sits down. 

James lifts Sirius’ legs, shuffling underneath so he’s closer to both of you. “Remus was gone all day,” he says simply. “I missed him.” 

“I can see that,” you laugh, poking at a red mark on his neck. “Jamie, what happened here?”

“Shh.” James nestles in close to kiss the skin by your ear. “You should see the other guy.”

Remus walks in, nimble fingers buttoning his shirt, but not before you spot the half dozen hickeys scattered about his chest.

“You deviants,” Sirius gripes. You suspect he’s a tiny bit wounded at being left out of the lovefest. “Movie night is supposed to be for all of us, and now you’ve missed half the middle.” 

“The middle’s always the most predictable part anyway,” says Remus, sitting down and putting his feet on the coffee table. 

Sirius kicks at him vengefully. Remus catches his foot, casting him an unimpressed look while he presses his thumb into the ticklist part of Sirius’ arch. Your boyfriend yelps, yanking his foot back. His fingers tighten around your middle. 

“Who are we thinking the killer is?” James picks up the bowl of kettle corn he’d abandoned on the coffee table earlier, scooping up a handful. Remus silently collects the pieces that fall onto the couch. 

One of Sirius’ hands comes out of your sweatshirt to take a piece. “Maybe Mia Goth.” 

“Ahh, I see. Who’s that?” 

“The blonde one there,” you say. 

“Oh, her.” James murmurs to Remus, “Have we seen her before?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” 

“I don’t know, I kind of wonder if it could be the mom,” you say. “You don’t usually see any real adults in these. It seems like the setup for something.” 

Remus hums. “Have any of her kids been killed?” 

You frown. “Well, yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t put my money on her, then.” 

You and Sirius exchange a look. Remus has a pretty stellar track record when it comes to guessing the killer in these films. You both want him to be wrong, but he’s likely right. 

“You never know,” says Sirius. He’s begun tracing patterns into your skin with his fingertips, phantom tattoos over your ribs. “They always have a partner in these things. Her partner could have betrayed her by killing one of the kids. Or she could be a psychopath that wants to escape the constraints of her domestic life, and this whole thing is just a way to kill off her kids without anybody suspecting her.” 

“Diabolical,” James mutters, shoving more kettle corn in his mouth. Three pieces tumble to the couch, which Remus picks up. 

“You guys always get caught up in the tropes,” Remus says. “It keeps you from seeing the logical choice.” 

Sirius frowns up at you. You pet his head. “You’re no fun,” he says to Remus.

“Oi,” Remus laughs, “I’m only trying to help you.” 

“They don’t want to know who the killer is, love,” says James, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder consolingly. “They want to shoot off theories and then be surprised by the end.” 

You and Sirius gawp. “That’s not true!” you say. 

James looks genuinely confused. “It’s not?” 

“No! Obviously we want to know who it is.” 

“That’s it.” Sirius waves them away with a sweep of his hand. “Go back to your debauchery, leave us to enjoy our film.” He snuggles close to you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “We won’t let them spoil it for us, sweetness.” 

“Wait, no,” James laughs. “We’re sorry.”

“We won’t spoil anything,” Remus vows. He leans around James to give you a soft look, and you feel your lips tilt up unwillingly. 

Sirius regards them both coolly. “You’ll be good for the rest of the film?” 

Remus’ eyes flash with amusement, and he grabs Sirius’ foot again, the threat potent. 

“We’ll be good,” James agrees. 

You and Sirius look at each other, both pretending to deliberate whilst suppressing your grins. He’s much better at it than you are.

“All right,” he says magnanimously. “You can stay.” 

“Good. It is our flat, too, you know.” James grabs a heaping fistful of kettle corn, bringing it to his mouth. 

Several pieces overflow, falling to the couch. Remus sighs. “Honestly, James.” 

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from an in-progress DP x DC soulmate AU starring Jazz Fenton, a very unfortunate mugger, and a smoothie. Oh, and I guess Jason is there too.

Jazz meets her soulmate in, of all places, Park Row. Or as the locals call it, Crime Alley.

Seems about right for her life, she decides as she kicks the shit out of the guy who was trying to stab him for his wallet fifteen seconds ago. Her soulmate watches her curiously, seeming unconcerned by the fuss, and takes a sip of his smoothie.

Also seems about right, for her soulmate. A guy who got too nervous when necessary violence happened was not going to survive Thanksgiving in Amity Park, much less Christmas.

Well, it is Gotham.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi, sorry, one sec," Jazz says, then leans over the groaning mugger and offers him a card to the best local crisis center she's managed to track down via research and word of mouth in the four months she's been in Gotham. Not her card, obviously, since she just roundhouse-kicked the guy in the head to protect her soulmate from him and that's arguably a conflict of interest. Or close enough, anyway. "So you should check these guys out, they've got a very high success rate in their job program and there's an associated food bank and rent assistance, if you qualify."

"What?" the mugger says dazedly.

"Also if you ever touch my soulmate again I'll make you wish for the cold mercy of the Infinite Realms," Jazz adds pleasantly. The guy goes very, very pale. Then he snatches the card from her and runs for his life and eternal soul.

"This is the nicest thing the universe has ever done to me," her soulmate muses, taking another sip of his smoothie.

"Getting you mugged?" Jazz asks wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you religious? Do you want kids?" her soulmate asks. "Also, who's your favorite Bat?"

"Robin, obviously," Jazz says. "The overdramatic and feral little stabby one, I mean. He reminds me of my little brother. Makes me feel a little bit maternal, to be honest. So that answers two out of three, and as far as religion goes, I only believe in Psychology Today, highly customized guns, and my mom's ninth-degree black belt."

"This better not awaken anything in me," her soulmate mutters under his breath.

"That seems unlikely, or we wouldn't be soulmates," Jazz says.

"Point," he says, sipping his smoothie again. Jazz didn't even know anywhere in Crime Alley sold smoothies, but she is new around here. "Wanna go break my bed? Or maybe go get coffee?"

"You've already got a smoothie," Jazz says.

"So I do," he says.

Jazz looks him over. He's her soulmate, so she's not surprised to find him gorgeous. She wasn't ever expecting a familial soulmate–Danny is a very intense sibling to have, and her parents are very intense parents to have, not to mention everything about Dani, and "soulcousins" aren't typically a thing–and she's never been especially interested in keeping around too many close friends, so considering all that, she was already expecting her soulmate to be a romantic one. If they are platonic, it's definitely only going to be because her soulmate is an aromantic asexual. Which he probably isn't, since he already asked about kids and religion and if she wanted to go break his bed.

Then again, she's met people who'll posture worse than that. Especially guys, and especially ace ones with a clear investment in their masculinity, and given this particular guy is built like a brick house could only dream to be, chances are he has some feelings about his masculinity. Though he's also drinking a visibly pink smoothie, not a neutral-colored protein shake or generic black coffee, so . . . fifty-fifty there, maybe?

Further inquiry will probably be required.

"I'm Jazz," she tells him. "What's your name?"

"Robin," he says. Then he–pauses. Blinks. "I mean–Robin."

He looks very confused for a second, and Jazz blinks too, and refocuses her eyes a bit. Oh, is he–

"Are you overshadowing that guy?" she assumes. For the love of–of course her soulmate would be a ghost, she thinks dryly. Who'd want a soulmate their mom and dad wouldn't want to grill for information and ask a thousand invasive questions, after all? "I mean, he's really hot, don't get me wrong, he looks good on you, but I'd rather meet you for real."

"'Overshadowing'?" Robin looks bemused.

"I'm Danny's sister," Jazz clarifies. Robin does not look less bemused. "You know, the new king?"

"What?" Robin says. Jazz frowns a little, feeling a bit bemused herself.

"Do you not get out much?" she asks.

"Never, actually, but also yes and constantly and way too often," Robin says. "My job is kind of demanding that way."

"What's your job?" Jazz asks curiously. Ghosts' jobs are always interesting, even if only for how they interact and manifest with their Obsessions. She wonders what his Obsession is, actually, because smoothies seem like an unlikely option but she doesn't have much else to go on here.

Can't be weirder than Box Ghost, either way.

"I'm a Bat," Robin says, then looks absolutely alarmed and also absolutely horrified.

"Huh," Jazz says, tilting her head. He seems really big to be one of the Robins, and a little too old besides. A year or two younger than her, maybe, and even the older Robin she's pretty sure is at best Danny's age. Though that's assuming this body is the one he fights crime in, admittedly. Although it's kinda funny if one of the Bats is just named Robin. Must get annoying on patrol, though. "I didn't know any of you were dead, but I guess that's not actually a surprise either, given the profession."

"Why did I say that to you?" Robin asks tightly.

"I told you, I'm the new king's sister," Jazz says. "You know, it's the royal family thing. Technically I'm his regent, legally speaking, but only because I'm better at paperwork and he doesn't count as a legal adult in the Infinite Realms yet. Hasn't been dead long enough, you know how it is. But I've been alive long enough to, apparently? But his 'being alive' technically stopped tracking at fourteen. It's complicated, basically."

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Robin demands.

"It means you can't lie to me because you're one of my brother's subjects," Jazz says, really not understanding his reaction. Every ghost knows this, after all. The only ones who wouldn't know it are too young to be away from their guardians' haunts or even leave the Infinite Realms at all. Definitely a ghost who knows how to overshadow someone this thoroughly and fully is old enough and experienced enough to know it, though. "Whose body is that, anyway?"

"It's my father's," Robin says. Jazz's eyes widen a little and she has several very concerned internal reactions before he chokes and sputters–"I mean–it's not–he's not–!"

"You realize there is no healthy way to mean that, right?" Jazz says. Robin looks frustrated and freaked out and she feels bad about it, because she didn't mean or want to upset him, but she clearly has. "Sorry. I mean, I still secretly feel like I'm the one parenting my parents half the time, you're not the only one with weird feelings about yours."

"I'm his," Robin says, then grits his teeth in visible pain. He's this close to crushing the smoothie cup he's holding but hasn't actually done it. Jazz wonders if that's an example of deliberate self-control or subconscious restraint.

She's pretty sure Robin didn't mean to say that, though.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a little concerned. Normally ghosts just stop talking about things they want to lie about, when they realize who she is.

"No," Robin says. "I'm just his. I've always been his, I always will be, his good soldier, his worst mistake, not his actual fucking son, why am I telling you this?!"

"I don't know," Jazz says, frowning in increased concern. "Usually people can work around the inability to lie a little bit, but you sound like you're being compelled to speak. Increasingly like, actually. Hm. What's your Obsession? And what kind of core do you have?"

"What?" he says.

"They might be making you unstable, is all," Jazz says. "I don't think it'd be a soulmate thing but to be fair I don't really know how that works. Are you dead, or are you a manifestation of something?"

"I'm dead," Robin says, staring at her. "That bastard clown beat my head in with a crowbar and blew up what was left of me. I woke up in my grave and–I–how did you know that?"

"Well, I didn't, that's why I asked," Jazz says reasonably, idly wondering why the Joker isn't dead yet, since this is Gotham and obviously it wouldn't be another "bastard clown" Robin was referencing, even if he wasn't a Bat. But like, at least dead via the court system, if nothing else. The Joker is insane, yes, but no one can argue he doesn't know right from wrong at this point. Does New Jersey just not have the death penalty, maybe? She hasn't thought to check. "Maybe it's the guy you're in? He's not drunk or high or anything, is he?"

"I hate drugs," Robin says, gritting his teeth again; tightening his grip on the smoothie again. He's trembling, just barely. "I hate them. I'd never touch them. I don't know what you are. You're scaring me. Please stop."

He definitely didn't mean to say that, Jazz can tell.

But . . . he doesn't know what she is.

He doesn't know.

Well, that's a problem.

"Robin," she says gently, and for some reason his face twists painfully at the sound of his own name. "Can I see your core? Please?"

[nadvs]

why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something

it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…

based on this fic

when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”

she looks at him from across the kitchen.

“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”

“sure. but is it so bad if…?”

she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.

“if i get pregnant?” she says.

“yeah.”

“isn’t that fast?”

“not for me. is it fast for you?”

she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.

“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”

“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.

she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.

he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.

three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.

and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.

she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.

a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.

she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.

at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.

she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.

“you’re happy?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”

rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.

“right?” he repeats.

“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”

“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”

“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”

“he?”

she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.

“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you’ll feel more connected to a boy.”

he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.

“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”

she shudders, nodding through her sobs.

“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”

“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”

“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”

“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.

rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.

“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”

she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.

“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”

he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.

“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.

“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”

he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.

the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.

she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.

“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”

“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.

his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.

“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”

he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.

“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.

he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.

“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”

she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.

“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.

“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”

“alright,” she says. and she believes it.

[russellsppttemplates]

It's like we won't even be there (Lewis Hamilton)

Mercedes has three power couples

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time, I'm finally posting this request.

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

my masterlist

Tw: mentions gender inequality, misogynistic ideals

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Everyone on social media has an inkling that you're bringing someone to the race. Is it your belle, Mr. Hamilton?", you teased your boyfriend as he got ready for bed.

You had arrived in Abu Dhabi a few hours earlier, caught a cab to the hotel where your boyfriend had been resting before media day.

"Is that so?", he wondered, "I haven't told anyone outside the team. And even them, I told them you would be joining as my guest, only a few people actually know about us", he assured.

"I don't mind it, we'll have to be public at some time. Three years dating outside of the public eye, plus another year of what the kids call soft launching, whatever happens this weekend, happens", you tranquilized him.

This had been an ongoing conversation for you for as long as you've dated. His lifestyle came with many implications, particularly not always being home and public eye. You also spent a lot of time focused on your job, building the company now associated to your name to the people in the finance business, so the latter question was the biggest one. While you were successful, it hardly impacted your life when it came to the public eye or social media. You had your accounts, sure, but they were private and they never got in the way of your job.

"I just don't want people to lash out on you", he replied, sitting next to you on the bed, his fingers tracing shapes in your hand, "I've seen how brutal they can be, I've felt how brutal they can be, and I don't want that for you. They'll gossip because that's how things work, but I don't want them breaking the respect line.", Lewis stated.

"Lew, I understand and appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. I have you, our families, our friends, I'm going to be just fine. I don't know how they'll react, so I'll work with whatever happens", you smiled, snuggling into him as he caressed your face.

.

"Good morning, Y/N! How have you been? I haven't seen you in so long!", Carmen said as she hugged you once you arrived in the hospitality, Lewis kissing your cheek briefly before he headed for his meeting.

"Hello, gorgeous girl! I've been good, and you?", you greeted her with a kiss on each cheek after saying goodbye to Lewis.

"Same old, busy but managed to come and support G this weekend. You, however, seem to finally let it out", she smirked, walking with you to the coffee station and serving yourselves, sitting in the balcony as you overlooked the track.

"There's no point in keeping it a secret, I guess. We did it for a while, and this past year we both realised that we want to be able to go out and not be worried someone will see us and whatever consequences it could bring. We're adults who hope other adults will behave like such", you smiled.

"A hard thing to do sometimes, for them at least", you heard a female voice coming closer to you, "I don't believe we've met before, but Toto said you were hanging out here", the blonde woman said.

Suzie Wolff had been someone you looked up to since you were little, so this was a proper fangirl moment, "sit, sit! This is Y/N!", Carmen introduced after giving her a brief introduction.

"I keep missing you whenever you join us for the races!", she said, "the pandemic didn't help, and lately I've been so busy with the F1 Academy that I've hardly been to races myself", she reasoned, beginning the start of a conversation that was only interrupted for lunchtime.

"Press usually have a field day with powerful women related to this sport. You should be able to get away with it because you don't work for racing, but they love going on and on about how we got to where we are because of who we date", Suzie shook her head.

"Absolutely, because George is very interested in Family Offices and he got me my job", Carmen rolled her eyes, "you try and give that guy math stuff and you see how it turns out! Besides, not many people actually knew who he was, they're not very into motorsport, only a couple of them!", she teased.

"Agreed! The only way I was able to have my own company was because I name dropped Lewis, who I didn't know at the time. He doesn't know his numbers all that well. It's so easy for them to point fingers, but it's really just because they hate to see a powerful woman get the job done", you offered, seeing your partners arrive to the table along Laura.

"Social media is going crazy about you, Y/N!", Laura, one of the team's social media managers said while you had lunch, "there's people who spent the whole morning trying to find out who you were and they were faling to find your accounts. Apparently, they were looking in model agencies and such until someone pointed out you studied at the same university as them, and it's pointed them in the right direction I'd say?", she shrugged her shoulders, showing you her phone as she scrolled through media, "they're still trying to find out more, but they only have a few articles from your company and a picture of you when you graduated that is on the university's Wall of Fame!", she made you giggle, fondly looking at the wall of pictures you saw everyday on your way to lectures.

"Are you on the Wall of Fame and didn't tell us, Y/N?", Carmen exclaimed at the new information, "it's barely anything, I'm still there probably because someone forgot to remove the picture", you blushed, suddenly feeling like the table's attention was on you.

"Why would they take out the picture of the most beautiful woman with the most achievements?", Lewis charmed, holding your hand in his as he smiled.

.

"Are you guys ready for the race? If all goes well, we can get back to the points!", Suzie cheered as she handed you and Carmen your bottles of water.

"Lew has been beating himself up a lot lately, hopefully everything works in their favour", you held your hands together after setting the water bottle on the counter.

It was very touch and go, but the boys ended up with good results given the position they started in.

"Congrats, my love!", you said in Lewis' ear as he squeezed your torso over the barrier, delighting the sight of everyone who was watching and seeing the happy couple, "couldn't have done it without you, gorgeous girl", he yelled back, stealing a kiss before running to the mechanics.

"I'm just going to check where Suzie is and then we can go for dinner, guys", Toto stated, squeezing George's and Lewis' shoulders before checking is phone to see if his wife had seen the text he sent about said dinner.

"The F1 Academy paddock is closed, you can see it from here that nobody is there", George pointed out as his boss frowned.

"I would help you, but I have to go and look for Carmen, too", George scratched his cheek as they walked along the corridor, seeing Lewis open his driver's room door and slumping his shoulders slightly, "Y/N is not here either".

"Where have the Mercedes missus gone...?", Toto muttered.

It didn't take then long to hear the mix of your three giggles coming from the lounging area, the three of you sat in the smaller sofas around a coffee table, hot drinks in your hands as you discussed something avidly but in a relaxing way still.

"Are the three of you willing to have dinner with the three of us? We'll still let you speak between yourselves, okay? It's like we won't even be there!", Toto joked.

[bullet-prooflove]

"And I’ll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose" with Stuart Scola, pretty please??

Tagging: @trublu2u @burningpeachpuppy @district447 @stelacole @kmc1989

Little Changes - Stuart notices when you start to make little changes.

The Last Time - You and Stuart face a problem regarding your wish to start a family.

Fresh - You decide you need to start fresh.

Seduction (NSFW) - You decide to seduce Stuart.

Stuart still dreams about you being a mom. He thinks about it everytime you’re in the vicinity of a child, picking up a fallen toy or stopping one from running out into the road. You’d be the fun parent, the creative one.

For you that dream has died, you’ve buried it, grieved for it…

“I’ve accepted it,” You tell him your first day returning to the field in two years.  “There’s no point in keeping my life on hold for something that’s never going to happen.”

The whole thing wrenches at his chest because he knows that having a family is still within your reach, that you still have options but you won’t even consider them.

“Surrogates change their minds, adoptions fall through.” You tell him when he tries to discuss it with you one morning over breakfast. “I can’t face that level of uncertainty.”

He can tell the conversation is over because you get up and head upstairs to take a shower.

The thing is, you may have moved on but Stuart hasn’t. He hasn’t told you that he still keeps a tiny stuffed panda in the top drawer of his desk at work, he bought it the first time you took a pregnancy test because he was so sure it would take. He takes it out when he’s alone sometimes, runs his fingers through it’s fur.

That’s what he’s doing when Jubal escorts the social worker to his desk, the one that’s apparently been trying to track him down over the last few days.

“I don’t understand, I’m not working any cases with kids.” He says as he tucks the panda back in the drawer and closes it.

“This is more of a private matter.” She tells him.

It’s in the conference room he learns he has son. A  three year old called Jack.

Back when you broke off the engagement to go undercover Stuart fell into old habits, drinking, fucking. One of the people he did that with was Nina Chase…

Nina Chase who had recently been killed in action during a raid on fentanyl lab.

Nina Chase who he had apparently gotten pregnant after a one night stand and had neglected to mention that the last time they ran into each other on case.

“Are you sure?” He asks the social worker because right now his head feels like it’s going to explode and he has no idea how the hell he’s supposed to feel.

“You’re listed on the birth certificate and in her will.” The social worker confirms as she removes the documentation from her satchel and pushes it across the desk towards him. He flicks through it, studying the details intently. It’s when he sees a picture of Jack that something just clicks, the kid has his eyes, the exact same shade of blue.

It’s the letter that comes with the will that confirms what he’d already guessed. The two of them had hooked up a month before you walked back into his life. By the time she found out she was pregnant you were back together, engaged again. She hadn’t wanted to fuck that up.

He’s waiting for you in the kitchen when you get home, a glass of whiskey in his hand and the documentation in front of him.  

“I know that face.” You say as you set your bag down on the kitchen counter. “That’s the ‘you’ve done something I’m not going to be happy with’ face.”

You come to stand in front of him, your hands resting on your hips and his heart pounds in his chest because this, this is going to upend your entire world and truthfully he doesn’t know where you’re going to land.

What he does know is, he’s going to raise his child, with you or without you.

“Sasha.” He says softly as he pushes the file towards you. “We need to talk.”

Stuart? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[queerofcups]

a July rec list

I read a truly absurd amount of fanfic in July, and since I’m tracking my fic reading anyway these days, I figured, why not pull up some faves. I’ll do my best to tag authors when and where I can! I’ll throw some commentary in there to talk about why I like some of them, but rest assure this is a rec list and I think every one of them has something to love. 

Hockey RPF

In the scrawl of the ringside choir E, 37k, Hockey RPF | @goodnightpuckbunny Sid/Geno

“Geno, this is Sid Crosby,” Kris says, sitting back down. The kid towers over both of them, but seems small in the office. “You need a coach, so he’s gonna help you out.” He looks Sid over, eyes scanning like he’s looking for weaknesses, faults in his form. Sid has plenty, but he’s not fighting anymore. He doesn’t bother mirroring the gesture. He can guess without looking. “He old,” Geno eventually decrees. 

Interview with the Vampire

The Vampire Eric

E | 4k | falsescience (@theburialofstrawberries) Eric Bogosian/Jam Reiderson, Jam Reiderson

Oh ho, Eric thinks to himself, and then, aloud, because it’s just too delicious, and wouldn’t Rolin be ashamed, and a little pissed: “Oh ho!” He feels zapped alive: young, powerful, god-like. Jacob starts giggling immediately. “Did you just say ‘oh ho’?” “Or maybe aspen. What do you think, Eric?” “Not a damn clue,” says Eric, with a broad grin. “You look very satisfied. He looks very satisfied, doesn’t he?” Jacob smiles at Sam over his hitched shoulder. “Hm,” says Sam. “I think we play it safe, and go with red maple.” Yeah, Eric is certain: Jacob and Sam aren’t fucking. But they’d like to be.

First of all, I am RPF’ing these people real hard in some private chats. But largely, I like the characterization happening here, and the little turn of understanding that happens in the last third of the fic. 

reformation

E | 44k | verseau (@downstairsbar) Lestat/Louis

we're gonna heal. we're gonna start again. you've brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. // It makes him speechless sometimes, how much he loves Lestat. He thought for years, a decade, that it was sickness. It’s not. It’s not. Even when Louis hated Lestat, nothing was more certain than that he loved him.

There’s some great, great plotting and characterization here but/also I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve read a fic and known immediately that the author is Black. That’s obviously not a requirement of the fic I write but it's nice to have Southern Black characters really sound like people I’ve known/grown up around etc. 

let’s keep this off the record

E | 1.4k | anonymous

Louis/Santiago (sort of)

There would be no second chances for the Englishman, no opportunity for him to crawl out of some dump and seek revenge. Louis would make sure of that.

Honestly, I think it's great that fandom has a long and storied history of skullfucking. I think it's fun that weird shit like that still happens around here.

Maman

T | 2k | anonymous Claudia/Madeline, Louis/Lestat

Madeleine meets in the in-laws. Particularly one of them.

transpires

M-E | 5.8k total | familiar (@bigvampo or @camilliar? sekrit you've got so many blogs) Louis/Lestat

I mean, sekrit is just a fucking stellar writer. sekrit’s got a way of telling so much —  about a character, their mental state, the world their in —  in just a few razor sharp details. also these fics are so funny and the characterizations of Louis and Lestat feel like natural progressions from what we’ve seen in canon both in how much they love each other and how terrible they are (to each other and in general)

Harry Potter

Right. I think I’ve always been pretty upfront about my continued reading of Harry Potter fanfiction, but in case it's somehow necessary to say, please do not come to my inbox talking about JK Rowling. I don’t think about that woman and I’m very clear about what she thinks about me. 

Those Three Curses

E | 6k total | @dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

Obviously I had a bit of a fucking dodgerkedavra moment here, but these blew me away. So much story telling in such little space. 

Former Things Come to Mind

E | 64k | dodgerkedavra

Harry Potter has had a headache for seven and a half years.

In the Presence of My Enemy E | 41k | dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

All Harry knows is that Sectumsempra is for enemies. He doesn’t know that it will bind him to Draco Malfoy, for better or worse, ‘til death do them part.

Tiny Home

E | 30k | @wolfpants Draco/Harry/Ron

Harry and Ron left the Aurors years ago to travel the world and make up for lost time. When they finally decide to settle roots back in England, together, building a tiny home in the Lake District by hand seems like the perfect plan. What they don't realise is that Draco Malfoy already lives on the plot of land that they choose to build on. A story about years of feelings, about weaving lives in and around each other, and about finding a place safe enough to call home.

I really feel like there’s been an explosion of excellent Draco/Harry/Ron all of a sudden. One of my qualms with a lot of polyship fics is that it's very uhhh “we must do everything together” and I really love that this fic breaks that down and allows everyone to have histories and experiences together as dyads and all together. 

In Our Blood

E | 37k | secretsalex Draco/Harry

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

I’m not even going to bullshit y’all. This fic reminded me why I love mpreg. Excellent use of body horror, body dread, suspense, all these things. Also, an mpreg fic that remembers abortion is a thing. Amazing!

Probationary Action

E | 63k | @toomuchplor Draco/Harry

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

I’ve been obsessed with toomuchplor since Inception and this fic reminded me why. I don’t love Auror!Harry fic (truly, just so much unchecked, delighted writing about police brutality) but I do like any fic where Harry starts to wake up to the fact that maybe just because they’re “the good guys”, not every choice made by the Aurors/Wizarding Gov’t in general is right. Also, I appreciate the expansion on the idea of sex charms!

Embers

E | 41k | @shiftylinguini Draco/Harry

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

idk man, I like a fic that treats sex work like it's just a job. Worthy of respect, full of technical expertise, etc. 

--

Both of these next fics came from @hd-wireless which has been, pound for pound, one of the best fests I've ever witness and is a testament to how important having multiple fic fests in a fandom can be! so much good shit to read!

The most he’s ever said

E | 16k | anonymous Draco/Harry

It takes them twenty years.

Two Houses

E | 11k | anonymous Draco/Harry

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

I really enjoy that there's been more of a trend of writing about these two as older people and fleshing out the characterization of their kids.

[kybercrystals94]

Hide and Seek and Training

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 9 | Prompt 9: Bees

Rated: T | Words: 2496 | Summary: Training with Omega goes awry when bees become involved. [Character Focus: Tech, Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo]

“I love this game,” Wrecker whispers loudly to Omega, interrupting Hunter for the third time.

Tech adjusts his goggles irritably. “This isn’t a game, Wrecker. This is training.”

“If it’s training, then why is it fun?”

“I think all training is fun!” Omega pipes up happily.

Hunter sighs. “Can we just get through the instructions before we decide what’s fun and what’s not? Please?”

Echo chuckles from his perch on the Marauder’s ramp. “Kids, listen to your dad!” he calls out.

“Maker help me,” Hunter mutters. He takes a breath and starts again. “Alright. Omega, Wrecker, and Tech…you three, separately, are going to find places in the woods to lay low. Make sure to cover your tracks. After ten minutes, we’re going to see how long it takes me to find you.”

“And the last one found, wins!” Wrecker practically shouts.

Another sigh. “Sure,” Hunter agrees reluctantly.

“This sounds a lot like hide and seek,” Omega comments, smiling brightly up at Wrecker.

“The strategies are similar,” Tech admits, “however, this is a survival simulation.”

Wrecker laughs. “Can we start, Sarge?”

“Get out of here,” Hunter says, waving them off with a grin.

Wrecker and Omega are off like blaster shots, tearing into the forest like their very lives depend on it. Hunter can hear them crashing through the undergrowth even after they’ve disappeared from sight. At this rate, he won’t have to use his enhancements at all to pick up their trail.

Tech takes a much more tactical approach, starting the timer on his chrono and heading out in the opposite direction of his far more enthusiastic siblings. He is absolutely going to give Hunter a run for his credits.

Hunter ambles over to Echo and sits down next to his cyborg brother, glancing at his own chrono to keep track of the time.

“Who are you going after first?” Echo asks.

Hunter chuckles. “How upset do you think Tech would be if I made him lose to Wrecker?”

“You’d better start sleeping with one eye open if you go that route,” Echo muses.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just play it by ear and see what happens,” Hunter decides, leaning back on his elbows, ready to enjoy the peace and quiet these ten minutes will indulge him.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Omega stops suddenly, turning to look back at where she came from. She can’t see the Marauder through the trees anymore. Perfect. Glancing around, she kneels and touches the cool, damp earth with her fingertips. Hunter will be able to track her to this point easily. Just as she planned. It will make it much more fun when she disappears like a ghost.

With little effort, Omega clambers up the nearest tree, the toes of her boots finding quick purchase in the gnarled bark, and her fingers easily curling around protruding knots. She makes it to the first branch in seconds, and straddles it for a moment to plan her next move. The neighboring tree has a branch nearly touching hers, so she stands and edges her way toward it. A small jump later, and she claims the adjacent tree.

A few minutes lates, Omega is more than half a dozen trees away from where she started. Hunter will begin his search soon. She might have the advantage of him going after her more experienced brothers first; however, she can also imagine him coming after her first, if only to make sure she is safe. Therefore, she needs to get herself out of sight as quickly as possible, just in case.

Omega begins to climb higher, where the leaves and branches become denser. She smiles to herself, wondering if Hunter will be surprised at how well she has done. Her training is finally paying off.

She is so distracted by her joyous thoughts that she doesn’t notice the humm of agitated buzzing just to her left as she settles comfortably onto a thick branch, peering down through the soft leaves.

After a few minutes of quiet, Omega feels the sensation of legs on the back of her neck. She stiffens, resisting the urgent impulse to reach up and slap away the unknown creature. If she threatens it, whatever it is might sting or bite. She prays it has wings and will just fly away on its own. Then the sensation tickles down to the collar of her shirt.

No, no, no, Omega thinks desperately, not down my shirt!

She catches movement on her arm out the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she sees an insect, brightly colored, winged, and armed with a stinger. Omega releases a shuddering breath when she sees another join its friend on her sleeved arm, and another flying lazily past her face.

She notices the buzzing now.

Slowly, Omega looks back at where the branch she sits on meets the tree. Tucked into the crook, a muddy looking structure is swarming with the colorful insects. Bees, Omega’s memory supplies frantically.

She needs to get down from here.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech has found the perfect hiding place when his comm pings. Internalizing a sigh of frustration, he glances down at the source code. Crosshair’s old source code…Omega’s current source code. He answers immediately. “Omega?”

“Tech,” Omega’s voice is strained and hushed. She sounds terrified. “I need help. I don’t know what to do!”

“Alright. First, we must remain calm. Tell me exactly what is wrong and where you are,” Tech says, keeping his own voice temperate. He pulls out his data pad and begins the trace on Omega’s beacon.

Omega’s voice quakes, and Tech thinks she might be crying. “I’m–in a tree…and there’s bees? A lot of bees, and they are everywhere! They have stingers, and I’m afraid they’ll sting me if I move.”

Not an unreasonable fear to have under the circumstances. Tech climbs down from his hiding place and begins to follow the beacon at a brisk pace. He plans to briefly research the type of insects Omega has encountered during his trek. It might be vital to her safe extraction from the situation. “Can you describe what these ‘bees’ look like? Do you see their domicile?”

“Uhm,” Omega’s voice wobbles through distractedly, “Yeah. They’re colorful…red and blue and orange and yellow with black stripes. And they have a hive that looks like it’s made out of mud…maybe?”

Tech types in the brief description and pulls up an article on the species. Polychromatic Wasps. His eyes drift over the information briefly. “Alright, Miss Omega, I am enroute to your location now. It seems that this particular species of wasp - or bee - will not attack unless they feel threatened. My recommendation is that you remain perfectly stationary until I arrive.”

“I’m scared,” Omega admits weakly.

Tech hesitates. “I understand. We will have you out of this situation in short order, and you will be fine. I promise.”

“Okay,” Omega says. A slight strengthening in her tone suggests that she believes him.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter is surprised when he hears Tech’s familiar tread coming toward him, and is even more surprised at the speed at which his brother is moving. He comes into view a moment later, not even glancing up from his data pad as he approaches Hunter. “Omega is in distress. We must get to her location immediately.”

Tact and gentle verbal blows are not among Tech’s enhancements. Hunter’s heart rate accelerates to what feels like an inhuman speed. “What? Where is she?” he demands, falling into hurried step next to Tech.

“I’ve got her location locked,” Tech tells him. “She says that she came across a wasp nest when she climbed a tree. She is unharmed at present, just frightened.”

Hunter at first questions why Omega would comm Tech before any of her other brothers, especially brothers that might be closer to her aid. It dawns on him that Omega – always resourceful – would have called Tech first in order for him to provide her the information she would need until rescue came. She knows how to utilize her brothers’ strengths, and for that, he is incredibly proud of her.

“Here,” Tech says, stopping at the base of a tree. He looks up. “Omega?” he calls out.

A small voice calls back from the depths of the leaves and branches. “I’m here, Tech. They haven’t stung me.”

“Excellent!” Tech calls back. He starts to remove his pack.

“I can go,” Hunter says, already putting his hands to the trunk to find his first grips.

Tech shakes his head, dropping his pack to the ground and nudging Hunter aside. “I am far better suited to the task…and I’ll need you down here to catch her when I drop her down.”

“Wait, what?” Hunter asks in alarm, but Tech is already climbing.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Omega almost bursts into tears of relief when Tech appears through the leaves and branches. But she holds them back with a painful swallow, keenly aware that she now has at least a dozen bees crawling over her person, with dozens more flying about, perturbed about their motionless intruder.

Tech climbs the rest of the way up onto the branch, bracing himself so that he is facing Omega. “I have a plan,” he says immediately.

Omega gives the tiniest nod. “Okay.”

“It seems that the wasps are becoming agitated, probably due to the presence of your scent in their territory,” Tech continues. “That is why we are going to remove you from the situation rather abruptly.”

“How?”

“I am going to drop you down from the tree, and Hunter is going to catch you. That is the fastest way.”

“Am I going to get stung?” Omega asks. “They’re all over me!”

Tech moves closer, slowly. “I can see that. Unfortunately, there is the possibility that any or all of us will be stung. While it is painful and not ideal, it is not deadly. Clones are not allergic to bee or wasp stings.”

Omega knows Tech means to be encouraging; however, just the idea of being stung renews her impulse to cry. She sniffs, willing herself to be brave. After all, she got herself into this mess, and her brothers are bravely getting her out, at the risk of being stung themselves.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Omega says, “Okay, tell me what I need to do.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter hates that the canopy of leaves is shielding his siblings from view, although he can hear Omega and Tech talking in hushed tones — which means, he supposes, that they are okay for the moment. If she hadn’t happened to come across a wasp nest doing it, Hunter would be very impressed with Omega’s hiding place. Obviously, though, they still needed to work on her spatial awareness…

His comm crackles to life. “Hunter, I am going to be lowering Omega through the branches, and on the count of three, I will release her. Are you ready to catch her?”

Instead of speaking through his comm, Hunter calls up, “I’m ready!”

“I should note,” Tech adds, as an obvious afterthought, “there is a high likelihood that you and Omega will be stung. I was not able to get many off of her without angering the hive.”

Hunter grits his teeth. He would rather none of them got stung, especially Omega; however, a sting or two is better than the alternative. “Got it,” he calls up.

There is rustling, and then Omega’s boots appear, immediately followed by her legs, torso and head. She is dangling by her arms, both hands clinging tightly to Tech’s forearm. Hunter can see the multicolored wasps crawling against the muted fabric of her clothes. There must be about a dozen of the things. He hopes most of them fly away the moment she drops.

As if they’d be so lucky.

Hunter shifts his stance, readying himself.

Omega’s eyes meet his for a moment, and he sees the tears glistening on her eyelashes.

“We got this, Omega,” he says encouragingly, hoping his expression doesn’t appear as frantic as the blood pounding in his ears.

She nods and looks up again at Tech, who is still invisible to Hunter. “I’m ready.”

Tech says over comms, “One…two…three!”

Omega drops then. It is only a split second between watching her fall and catching her, but it stretches for hours, especially when Omega lets out a squeak of terror at the brief free fall. Hunter catches Omega under her arms and places her on the ground. Using his gloved hands, he swats away the wasps that cling to her. Most of them fly away, but a couple decide to fight back against the assault.

Hunter feels a couple of stings immediately on his exposed wrists, and one just under his right ear. He is more focused on Omega, who seems to have been stung on the back of her neck and hands.

Tech drops down from the tree a moment later. “I suggest we run,” he says as the sound of enraged wasps buzz louder.

Hunter scoops Omega up and runs.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech hates being fussed over but Echo is relentless. So he tries to hold as still as possible as Echo analyzes each sting to be sure they are healing properly, and dabbing bacta ointment over the wounds.

“Are you about finished?” he asks with a hiss after Echo accidentally prods a wound a little too hard.

“You are making this harder than it needs to be,” Echo says without a hint of remorse as he pokes at the next sting.

Tech rolls his eyes, but allows Echo to finish his checks without further complaint. At long last, Echo leaves Tech alone to do as he pleases, which is to sit in his rack with his data pad and try not to irritate his minor injuries.

He isn’t left alone for long.

“Tech?”

Tech looks up to see Omega standing at the foot of his bunk.

“Are you doing alright, Omega?” he asks her, noticing the swollen welts on her hands and neck from her own stings. They don’t look red or irritated, which is excellent.

Omega nods, wincing slightly at the movement. “I’m okay. I just wanted to thank you…for helping me…and I’m sorry you got stung more than any of us.”

Tech smiles. “No thanks are necessary. I was more than happy to assist.”

Omega smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her usually bright eyes.

“Also, I meant to tell you,” Tech continues offhandedly, “that had the wasps not been involved, I am quite confident you would have won the training exercise.”

This catches Omega’s attention. She stands a little straighter. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Tech says. “I was hoping you might share with me your strategy. It could prove to be a valuable resource in the future.”

Omega looks absolutely delighted. “Sure! Are you going to write a report about it?”

“I’ve already started.”

At that, the little girl in their care practically radiates light as she rushes to his side to give him all the details.

END

✨Let me know if you’d like to be a part of my taglist!✨

Taglist: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @merkitty49

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter: Chapter 16

A/N: finally, a chapter worth posting. This one is so much better than the last two or three i've posted. Sorry guys, I've totally lost track of time, its been two weeks since the last chapter ive posted... this is a longer one so hopefully it will suffice. Thank yall so much for reading, feedback is much appreciated :)

Taglist: @abbiesxox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99

word count: 1.3k

Reader pov:

You and your father have silently agreed to just let go of what happened during the commute to the grocery store. The two of you have not talked about the topic since, and you were grateful for it. You headed for the doors to get outside the base, as you had decided earlier that a morning run should do the trick for your sluggish start to the day. It seems you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Barely making conversation at breakfast, feeling irritated and put off by everything. Even the sound of Gaz breathing when you sat next to him in the mess hall made you want to choke him out.

You breathed in deeply, savoring the crispy winter air as it's freezing tendrils circled your lungs. You sighed and were about to get moving when you heard a gruff noise behind you.

It was Ghost, clearing his throat.

You turned towards him, a quizzical look crossing your features.

"I've tracked you across the whole bloody base," he said, in a gravely, morning voice.

"And?" You said, annoyed. You didn't feel like talking to anyone not even your mysterious crush.

"And, a good soldier should know to watch their damn six."

"Yeah, in the field," you roll your eyes.

"Someone's pissy this morning, I thought we were on good terms now?" He chuckled

"I just... sorry- you didn't do anything wrong-" he cut you off.

"I know," he smirked.

"... just bad nights sleep I guess," you glared, finishing your sentence.

"Where are you headed?" his voice softened slightly, but his gaze still remained rigid and judgy.

"Out for a run."

"You don't mind if I join do you?"

You raised and eyebrow at his suggestion

"What? i'm not supposed to be friendly with my teammates ever?"

"I-I...no...I don't mind," you said skeptically.

The two of you took off at a quick pace, you were surprised that the lieutenant could keep up despite the skull balaclava covering his nose and mouth, as well as his large, toned build.

"You run often?" you ask.

"Mmm... when I was a kid I got in trouble a lot. I had to make a quick getaway sometimes."

"Who was chasing you... the law?"

"Eh, sometimes," he said, nonchalantly.

"Well, what kind of trouble?" you asked, not knowing whether to be concerned or intrigued.

"Dumb, teenage shit. You know, smashing windows... drinking... smoking, anything to get me out of the house really. I matured eventually."

"And now your in the military, the irony," you paused. "You know, I really wouldn't have guessed that you were so... unruly as a kid, Mister 'im so strict and tough," you laughed.

He gave a chuckle in response.

"Mhm, my teenage years were pretty lawless... probably can't say the same for you, Price's kid," he smirked.

"Ah you got me there... I did get into a little trouble though."

"Really...?"

"I dabbled with boys mostly..."

This made Simon's heart rate quicken, the thought of you with other guys, but then he reminded himself that you were a teenager at the time.

"Boys? I'm sure the captain wasn't very fond of that"

"Oh hell no... he always chased 'em away. I never could keep a boyfriend for very long. No matter how secretive I was he always found out."

Noted Ghost thought to himself.

Ghost laughs, "Yup, sounds like ol' cap."

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Ghost thinks about your love life.

"You...you don't happen to have any of those men in your life now... do you?" he asks quietly.

"I uhm....uh...well... no," You respond, a bit flustered.

"Good, otherwise i'd have to tell cap" He added, voice stronger and more confident while trying to play the question off as a joke.

You two were almost back to the base now, as you finished at the doors Ghost spoke up again as he swung the door open for you.

"It's about time for our daily training now, good timing."

You nodded as you stepped through the door into the pleasantly warm building. You walked down to the training facilities with him.

"Lets do some lifting," Ghost suggested.

You groaned in protest, dragging your feet as your lieutenant led you into the gym. You went through a few sets, bench press, curls, a few ab exercises, and finally some squats. By the time you were ready to start squatting, your body was exhausted, especially your legs considering you ran beforehand. Ghost looked at you with a slight bit of sympathy.

"Lets just do two sets of eight for this one alright Y/N?"

"Thank you, G-Ghost," you sputtered as you struggled to keep the bar level as you got into your first squat.

You wobbled, your legs quivered as you raised yourself back up into a standing postion.

One

You shook even more on the way down the second time, Ghost noticed this and left the wall he was leaning up against. He stood behind you with his hands open, ready to steady the bar if needed.

down, up

Two

By the third rep, the bar was so far away from being level on your shoulders your whole body tipped to the right. Luckily, Ghost caught you and lifted the bar off your shoulders before you could fall. He put the bar back on the rack and took a few pounds off of it while you sat down for a moment.

"If you're not okay enough to finish we can be done here," Ghost told you. His words were sympathetic but his voice was void of emotion, it was hard to gauge weather he was disappointed in your failure to finish the set or if he was concerned for you.

Ghost pov:

Goddamnit, she totally felt that.

I stood in front of Y/N while she sat down for a moment to catch her breath. I had to get the bar off of her before she hurt herself, but in the process I had pressed myself against her by accident. Which in return gave me a little problem... down there. Forever grateful to my mask for saving my ass once again, I tried to exert calmness towards Y/N while she rested. I desperately hoped that she would be done now that she was almost crushed by the weight.

"No, I'd like to finish out the set at least," she responded to my question.

"You sure? no shame in calling it quits to avoid injury," I responded in a warmer tone than before.

"Yeah, I've got it," she reassured me, more strength in her voice now.

Again, I positioned myself behind her to spot her. Only this time, a half step further back, not forgetting about my hard on. I'm not going to lie, It was tough to just stand there silently while she got her reps in. All I wanted to do was praise her, to tell her what a good job she was doing. I wanted to see her smile when I told her she did something right, I just wanted to make her happy.

"Good work," I managed to say when she got all eight reps in.

She told me goodbye and turned to leave. I watched her walk away, she took a few steps before I couldn't help myself.

"Wait!"

She turned around.

"I enjoyed running with you this morning... really- it was nice. Thank you for letting me go with you."

Her face broke into a genuine smile.

"Thank you for coming with me, it was nice to see you more informal... you know, outside of all the work stuff."

When she walked off again, I couldn't help but get all giddy and boyish. I felt like a teenager swooning over his crush at school.

fucking hell, Y/N enjoyed my company.

Reader pov:

When you left the gym and were sure that no one could see you, you damn near squealed for joy.

He liked running with me!

Ghost

My lieutenant

The guy I like

[justanotherninjagoblog12]

Finding them after the merge

Gender neutral reader

Some are longer than others

Also, Jay remembers you but you're the only one he remembers

One more thing Cole, Lloyd and Zane will be a separate part because I'm writing this late at night and can't come up with anything for them right now

Characters included in this Jay, Y/n, Nya and Kai

Kai

You were making your way back to Ninjago when you happened to pass by some mountains on the way back to Ninjago. When you heard a commotion. It sounded like fighting and you were going to ignore it that was until you heard a voice yell " BRING IT ON YOU OVER GROWN LIZARDS!" You froze in your tracks you knew that voice anywhere it was the voice of your fiery hothead boyfriend. " Welp I guess Ninjago will just have to wait. " You muttered before going towards the voice. Only to be stopped by muddy rocky creatures when you got close to Kai's voice . " Who go's there?" One of the creatures asked pointing it's sphere at you. You raised your hands up in surrender. " I mean no harm I just thought I heard someone I know over here. " You replied. " There are none of your kind here leave." One of the creatures replied and you turned to leave. That is until you saw something out of the corner of your eye a male with spiky hair showing off to some of the creatures. You took off running towards the male with the creatures chasing you the male turned around just in time to see the commotion and get tackled into a hug by you. " KAI IT'S REALLY YOU I WAS STARTING TO LOSE HOPE I'D SEE YOU AGAIN!" You yelled a little bit to loudly while hugging him. Kai stood there in shock for a few seconds before hugging you back. " Y/n is that really you?" Kai asked. " Yes porcupine, it's really me." You replied . " Hey what did I say about calling me a porcupine?" Kai asked pretending to be hurt you rolled your eyes and kissed him he kissed back. Kai then explained to the craglings the name of the creatures how you weren't a threat .

Nya

You didn't find her she found you while looking for the dragon cores. You had been staying with Arrakore a djinn, which with what happened with Nadakhan probably wasn't the best idea. Arrakore had found you injured and unconscious and took you in. You of course were very weary and didn't trust him at all at first but over time the two of you eventually gained each other's trust. You laugh as a dragon ran up to Arrakore. " An old friend of yours Arrakore?" You asked between laughter. " I don't know why I keep you around. " Arrakore replied looking at you. " Because your lonely and secretly enjoy the company. " You replied smirking. A young girl probably somewhere in her teens came into the cave followed by a baby dragon and a woman. The woman was wearing a light blue ninja gi and a light blue mask. You and the woman had a few awkward moments of eye contact before she pulled down her mask " Y/n?" The woman asked. " Nya? NYA!" You exclaimed happily running over to her. Nya punched . " That's for scaring me when I couldn't find you. " Nya said then pulled you into a kiss. " That's for everything else. " She finished. " So are you going to introduce us?" The teen girl asked. " Oh right Sora this is my partner Y/n. Y/n this is Sora. " Nya said. " Nice to meet you kid." You said smiling at Sora.

Jay

You wandered down the halls of the building it was so big and you, Lloyd and Arin had all gotten separated. You hoped one of them had found the dragon core you three had come for. You were muttering to yourself as you continued to wander the halls not really paying attention to where you were going when you bumped into someone's back. " Hey watch where you're.........Jay?" You asked as the male turned around he wasn't wearing his blue ninja gi instead he was wearing a black suit and dark blue tie. " can I help yo...... Y/n?" Jay asked as his eyes met yours. Jay could see the hesitate in your eyes he smiled softly and encouragingly as he opened his arms. He still had the same smile the smile you had missed the past few years. The smile that made your heart race it was him it was your Jay. " Jay....." You said crying happy tears as you walked into his arms. " I missed you so much my love. " You said crying tears of joy and Jay leaned down and kissed your temple softly. " Not a day went bye that I didn't think about you. " Jay muttered to you. " That's cheesy Walker you're a dork." You muttered still hugging him. " Yeah but I'm your dork." Jay replied. " That you are Jay that you are. " You replied happy to have your soul mate back.

[cherrylng]

Headline - Bright Eyes+Muse interviews [ROCKIN'ON (March 2000)]

The year 2000 starts here! Is the impatience that can only be tolerated by a dazzling youth the birth of the Year Zero generation? Rockin'On fully supports Bright Eyes and Muse, the two passions that run around while showing off the physique of young boys, and offers tickets to support their visit to Japan!

Interview: Mariko SAKAMOTO Photography: JIM NEWBERRY (Bright Eyes) Interpretation: Erika YAMASHITA (Muse)

The noisy days of Y2K! and the bubble era have returned to normal, and the onslaught of millennium visits to Japan has come to an end, but is it time to breathe a sigh of relief? Has anything started to happen? Year 2000 = Year Zero. It's only a matter of time, but we'd like to introduce two newcomers who make you feel that the year 2000 is just around the corner. Bright Eyes is a band centred on Conor Oberst, a home recording poet from Omaha, Nebraska, USA. Their interactions with the Athens scene are also a hot topic, but technically they can't be called newcomers, having released a compilation even before their debut full-length album was released last year. However, the self-denial and (literally) exploding shouts heard on their latest EP 'Every Day and Every Night' show an awakening of the core of expression in a style that has tended to veer towards experimental pop. Already waiting for their second release, it is a unique singing voice that cradles bottomless sadness in their clear eyes. In contrast, Muse are a three-piece from Devon, UK. They first attracted the attention of an American record company and were signed to Maverick. Although there was a feeling that the band was ahead of its time, their single ‘Muscle Museum’ broke through on the UK indie charts last year. The drama is sharply played by a blue, straightforward guitar sound that has been compared to early Radiohead. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is reminded of Jeff Buckley, with vocalist Matt Bellamy's rich expressiveness underpinning the high level of perfection of their debut. Both have very different sounds, but their straightforward voices are tugging at your heartstrings. The voice that started it all was always so vivid. With that voice, the clock starts ticking again.

"Writing songs was like smashing a windowpane."

(BRIGHT EYES/Conor Oberst) ● You started writing songs when you were about 11 years old, what was it like when you ‘discovered’ guitars and four-track recording equipment? 「Yeah, it was like, “I'm glad I found something to do”. It's like keeping a diary. It's a way of expressing your feelings in a more proper way. …… Compared to when I was a smaller kid. It's like writing a song on a four-track or throwing something at a window and smashing it, they're both the same thing.」

● Were there other kids around your age when you started writing songs who were making songs with four-tracks and guitars? 「Not quite the same age, but I had older friends who were writing songs. They were about five or six years older than me. They all encouraged me to write songs too. I'm still hanging out with them and making music with them.」

● I see. So you prefer sitting alone in a dark basement and recording than going out and playing with friends or skateboarding or anything like that? 「Haha (laughs). No, there are two sides to me, I guess. I like having fun too. I like to have fun, I like to throw parties, but…… But I always end up going home and spending time alone (laughs).」

● Yes, yes (laughs)…… Well, I believe you're 19 (20 this year), you're attending university, aren't you? 「Yeah…… Um, I'm actually going to take a leave of absence from next semester. I'm thinking of doing a lot of touring and stuff.」

● So you're planning to concentrate on your music? 「Yeah, hopefully. I'm going to take this semester off, and if it goes well, then I can continue with music. So I'm putting off my studies for a while (bursts out laughing). No, it's not that I don't like university, but I don't know exactly what I want to do……」

● That's unreliable. I have the impression that you write and record songs almost every day, but when do you feel the strongest urge to write songs? 「Well…… It's a bit of a strange feeling. Sometimes songs come out of a depressed mood. In that case, I just run to the guitar and play it straight away. But if I try to force myself to sit down and say, "Come on, I've got to write", I feel like it's never going to work. So I guess you have to wait for the ‘moment’ to come. And those moments are when I don't feel very good, like when I'm sad. That's why my songs sound like that. But I'm thinking that I need to get out of that. I want to write happier songs. Because …… I don't want to just make the listener sad all the time.」

● I see. And your debut album as an original, "Letting Off the Happiness", seemed a bit scattered. It was more like a collection of songs rather than an album. 「No, it was meant to be a single album. But because of the way we recorded it, the result was kind of…… It's a bit of a jagged, cut-and-paste, patched-together kind of sound. Because the album was recorded partly in my parents' basement, partly at a friend's house, and partly at Ascend in a completely different environment, so it's got that kind of disjointed sound. It ended up being a kind of collage of different sound qualities. In terms of the songs, I think thematically it's like an album, but maybe in terms of the way it sounds, there's a lot of ebb and flow to it.」

● Are you satisfied with the results? I got the impression that you weren't really interested in the cohesion of an album. 「No, not at all. I've just finished a new album, and it's more…… smooth and unified. I'm trying to work in that direction now, but when I was making ‘Letting~’…… I wasn't so concerned about cohesion (laughs). What can I say, I just…… I wanted it to sound intuitive, like I was reacting to something. I didn't want it to be a nice, well-proportioned piece of work.」

● Is that so? So, when I listen to your EP ‘Everyday and Every Night’, I feel that your songwriting is becoming more straightforward. 「Yeah, I think that's right. I always hope I'm growing as a writer (laughs). But you can't tell if you're growing or not, can you? But I feel like I'm more in control of what I'm doing than I used to be. It's not like I'm just waiting for something to happen. I'm starting to understand what I'm doing. I used to be, how should I put it…… I was trying to feel something in the darkness, or rather, I was searching for what to do in the darkness. I think cool sounds and cool songs came out of that. But now…… Everything is much more direct and well intentioned.」

● I love the song ‘Perfect Sonnet’ on that EP. Especially the part where your voice shakes and turns inside out and explodes into a shout - I've never heard such an intense expression of emotion. 「Oh…… I try not to rely too much on that kind of singing…… No, I think that a tiny whisper, for example, can convey just as much emotion as a loud, broken shout can. There are definitely some shouting on this album, but I think emotions are a very broad thing, and I think that up until now I've only been able to capture very, very extreme emotions. I've been able to shake off a lot of extreme emotions, such as despair, burnout, joy, and so on. But there are a lot of emotions in between. You can be perfectly depressed or insanely happy, and there are days when you don't feel either. People's emotions are more subtle, and that's what we're aiming for with the new songs we're writing. Of course, I like the feeling of being able to scream and let all the emotions out. But I want to be able to do more than that. I don't want to be able to express only one emotion. …… I want to be able to convey all sorts of grey emotions, not simply black and white.」

● Yeah, yeah. I think your songs express a strong longing for perfect love, happiness and joy, but at the same time, I feel like there is a fear of losing such joy and happiness. 「Ah…… You know, you're exactly right! That's the problem I have with myself, or…… That's a great description of the problems that come from my depression. I see things. I notice that there's something beautiful, and already at that moment I'm like, that beauty is going away, it's gone, it's turned into something ugly! That's how I feel. When I see something wonderful, the moment I see it, I think about the end. Everything seems like that…… I can't help thinking that, all my favourite friends, they're all lovely, but one day they're going to get old. I know that's the fate of all things, but everything changes…… But that's a great insight to realise that!」

● No…… (chuckles). 「Even though I've never met them (laughs).」

● Certainly (laughs). The words ‘Bright Eyes’ appear several times in your songs. What do these words symbolise? 「Yeah. Well, I can't remember the name…… Um, I used to watch an old film channel at my parents' house. It was a very long time ago, way before the first CD came out. Yeah, I really don't even remember the title of the film, but it was an old film with, like, Humphrey Bogart in it or something. And the main character calls out to a pretty girl, ‘Bright Eyes’. "Don't worry, pretty girl. You'll be on time for the train" or something like that. And I thought that was a nice way of expressing my fondness for the girl. So I wrote a song about it. I think it was the second song on an early compilation…… I wrote a couple of other songs using the words ‘Bright Eyes’ before I decided on the band name. I think that word has everything I love in it, like beauty, youth and…… When you look into someone's eyes, they are full of life…… I think that's the image. I think it's the most wonderful thing in the world. I think that's where it comes from.」

"I think everyone is thinking, I want to leave my mark on something."

(MUSE/Matt Bellamy)

● What impact did your first encounter with music have on your life? 「I started playing piano when I was 8 or 9. I liked Ray Charles and that kind of boogie-woogie piano. I didn't learn at first, I just listened to records and imitated what I heard. Then, when I was 12 or 13, I started playing guitar. I was influenced by British indie bands like Sonic Youth and stuff like that. But until I was 16 or 17, I couldn't make up my mind whether I was going to be serious about being in a band or going to university. So I spent four or five months travelling around Europe with my acoustic guitar and I learnt a lot of different guitar playing techniques. Flamenco, traditional Italian, and Greek guitar. It was totally different from what I had been playing. So when I came back from the trip, I had a lot of new ideas. So I think that was probably my biggest musical encounter.」

● I see. This is reflected in the variety of songs on this album. You say that Nirvana's 'Nevermind' and Radiohead's 'The Bends' are your favourite albums, but you must have been 13 or 14 when you listened to those two albums. 「Yeah, that one. Well, I just wanted to say that those two albums are two classics of the 90s. And we're an extension of the succession of bands like that. They were the successors of bands like the [Sex] Pistols and the Smiths and Echo Bunny [aka Echo & the Bunnymen], and even further back, the Beatles and [Elvis] Presley. In R&R [rock n' roll], everything is inherited and evolves, and we are the new generation in that. We're just ten years younger than Nirvana and Radiohead.」

● You can feel the change in the generation. The album was produced by John Leckie. Did working with him bring new inspiration to Muse's music? 「He helped us a lot with setting up the environment and where to record. It's about creating the right atmosphere for each song. He didn't have any input into the songwriting. I think the biggest thing he's given me is the Radiohead comparisons (laughs).」

● (laughs) It's an unavoidable part of the process. What do you yourself think about that comparison? 「Um…… It's fine, isn't it? Hahaha. Because, as I said before, everything originates from somewhere and can be traced all the way back. In the end, I think it all starts from the moment a musician wants to communicate their feelings and their situation. In that sense, we have something in common with Radiohead and the other bands I mentioned earlier. We want to express what we feel as people born and raised in this era.」

● I see. So, the town you grew up in, Teignmouth, seems to be a beautiful seaside town that attracts people in the summer as a resort. Was it ‘dead’ so to speak? 「No, it's not that bad, but it's just a bit boring. There's not much to do. But I'm sure there are many, many, many other towns like that. I'm sure lots of people live a similar life. But when we moved to that town, we were 13 or 14, and of course we looked around for something interesting to do, but there was nothing, except watching TV. That's when we started playing music, and we formed a band and started rehearsing and so on. We're a bit fed up with the town because every time we go into town we get into fights. There were people who didn't like us. All I remember is violence, and I don't like it. At first glance, it looks like a peaceful town, but whenever I go out at night, I get the stink eye.」

● Is it because you're a young guy who thinks he's an artist playing in a band? 「Hahahaha! That's exactly right.」

● (laughs) Muse's music has an excessive amount of emotion and passion. What is it that drives you to create such intense music? 「I think everyone wants to express what they feel, to be understood or misunderstood by others, and in any case to leave some kind of mark. That we are here, and that we are feeling this way. I think it's part of human evolution. Whether it's art, science, or contributing to the maintenance of the system by raising children. So I think what we are doing is talking about the system and how it affects us, for better or for worse. There is a significant element of the absence of religion. Our generation is one that has grown up without a specific religion, and everyone implicitly accepts the media and television as a way of connecting with others. Part of the album is about whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, and whether technological advances are destroying us or liberating us. It's something I myself don't know the answer to.」

● I see. And you have a beautiful falsetto voice— 「Uhuhuhuhu……….」

● You don't have to be so shy (laughs). Despite this, the words you sing are harsh and sometimes even challenging. 「Yeah, yeah.」

● By releasing the darker, self-destructive side of yourself into your music— 「Eheheheheh.」

● (laughs) Do you feel like you're sort of redeemed by letting go? 「Yeah, I think the first album was definitely like that. You go deep into yourself and look at the dark side and the good side and express that. But if you succeed by expressing yourself openly like that, there's a danger. You think that if you don't do that all the time, you won't be able to go on. And then the next work goes deeper and darker. But I don't want to do that. I think it's important to know other people's emotions, not just your own, and sometimes you need to become someone else's character and express yourself from their point of view. It's dangerous to be too focused on yourself, I think it's important to look outside the cocoon that is you.」

● Yes, that's very perceptive. I'm really looking forward to the gig in March, as the live show is highly acclaimed. So, do you have a message for Japanese listeners? 「What message? Oh, hahaha… Well, the album alone is only half of us. The other half is our live shows. So if you see us live, you'll get the whole picture. I would also like to say that the message itself is all in the music.」

☆ The weeping acolytes Bright Eyes and the rising star Muse, who twist and turn on the opposite emotions. The magazine's acclaimed Hope are all coming to Japan! Bright Eyes is an in-store gig. It's a free event, so please feel free to attend. Muse's Japan show is a ticket-purchase event! We will be inviting 10 groups of 20 people, so please apply using the enclosed postcard (must arrive no later than Wednesday 16 February). This is your chance to experience first-hand their sound, which marks a moment in time that will never come again. Don't miss it!!!

Translator's Note: Was it necessary for me to translate the Bright Eyes interview? Not really. But since the article was covering both bands and I've already scanned and extracted the texts, I thought I might as well just do it anyways. It gives a nice compare and contrast about Conor and Matt.

[madaboutmunson]

Ok because the other two little fics were so well liked my brain could stop thinking about it.

So we've got how the song in question was written, the song when Corroded Coffin make it big, so consider this one the last time that song is ever played live by Corroded Coffin.

It starts with a little shocker so I've hidden the story under a read more so people don't accidently read it, in case it upsets anyone, but trust me when I say it's not all doom and gloom 😉 I got you 💚

The day the news of music legend Eddie Munson passing breaks, it plunged the world into deep, dark despair. A shocking departure that stopped newsreaders in their tracks to announce it.

The bombshell news was plastered everywhere for weeks, billboards, posters, newspapers, magazines, murals, tv show opening monologues, and this thing slowly emerging, the internet, had its forums full of theories as to what had happened, as no announcement had come from the Corroded Coffin camp as yet.

There was no sign of illness or injury. No accident or crime details. He seemed to have just...died.

The outpourings of condolences from countless heavy metal icons, hundreds of celebrities, some of which you would never have even guessed, liked Corroded Coffin, millions of fans worldwide held candle-lit vigils and sang their songs sombrely acapella in meeting places all around the world.

A week later, the band finally released a written statement.

"It was during the hellish times of high school that Eddie found us, protected us, guided us and forged this band of brothers that would go on to conquer not just our fears but the entire world. Impossible dreams came true countless times over, but now we sit in a waking nightmare at the loss of our leader, so now our time must come to an end.

A band is a sum of its parts, and with any one of us gone, this is simply not Corroded Coffin anymore. So it is with the deepest sadness but no regrets we have to say goodnight to you one last time.

Thank you for sticking by us all these years.

Remember to look out for one another.

HFC 4 Eva

The Remains of Corroded Coffin"

With the statement is an announcement that there will be a tribute show organised by Corroded Coffin, but they declined to play all but one song, which a special guest on guitar.

A month later, the tribute show goes ahead, but no stadium can hold it due to demand, mainly because the band had to fulfil Eddie's final wishes.

One of which was causing the most problems, Eddie wanted every member of the Corroded Coffin fan club to get the first refusal on a space at the tribute show. So no matter where in the world they were from, they were invited and their travel expenses paid, or something set up so they could join the live feed.

Eddie had jokingly set up the fan club at a merch table in the early days. It got you a Corroded Coffin badge, a hand-painted d20, a poster, access to a monthly newsletter/comic and a hand-drawn membership card signed on the back by the band, all for the price of five dollars. As the band grew, the fan club pack stayed the same, except the merch was better quality, it had to be mass-produced, and the price was lowered to one dollar.

The band also often had membership cards on their person or gave them out for free to fans that wanted them through their music charity for kids living in low-income areas.

So as you can imagine, there were thousands of potential attendees, but if you didn't have the card, you weren't getting in, no matter how much money you had or how famous you were.

The crowd is a sea of Corroded Coffin fans of all ages and all walks of life.

The first people out on stage are Corroded Coffin.

All of them.

The three band members wheel out an enormous coffin encased in rusted metal sheets with haphazardly driven rivets to keep it together, standing up tall, onto a platform at the back of the stage. They do this in absolute silence. The crowd is so hushed that on the recording, you can hear the ting of someone dropping a can.

Then the chants start, "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!" Hauntingly fierce like an army ready for battle, they know they can't win.

It spreads across the ocean of fans like a ripple of deafening voices.

Then the concert begins. Not only is the lineup littered with some of the most famous musical artists in the world, but also many of Eddie's favourite bands, and to introduce each of them is a celebrity pairing.

Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley. Prize-winning journalist and film director, respectively.

Tech Whiz Kids Dustin Henderson and Erica Sinclair.

Internet entrepreneur duo Jargyle.

Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers. Heads of a missing children's charity.

Award-winning scientists Mike and Will Byler.

Novelist Lucas Sinclair and Skateboarding legend Mad Max.

Then lastly, a fan favourite, Eddie's Uncle Wayne. He had made a cameo appearance in every video they had ever made, was on every concert video and was always thanked in the album notes.

"It is my greatest honour that the boys chose me to introduce the last performance of the evening. I know this song was his favourite, and many of yours also. So without further ado...Sadly, for the final time, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Corroded Coffin," he shouts finally over the crowd's roar as flames shoot out of the sides of the coffin on stage, and the three remaining members walk out.

They say nothing and launch into the heaviest song Corroded Coffin ever wrote.

A lead guitar joins in but with no guitarist to be seen.

As the song draws to a close, a man walks out in a denim battle vest a little too snug for him, his hair voluminous but dishevelled. He's holding the prop guitar.

He swings it around, smashing it into the floor behind him, and with an almighty swing back in front of him, the guitar must know this is its last show because the body splits in two. The man rips the neck of the guitar out of the body and holds it above his head. The fake blood spills out of his mouth, and the tears flood down his face as he punches the air in time with the Eddie chants before he blows a kiss at the crowd and then one at the coffin.

There is a curtain call for all involved as pyros and flames fill the air around the stage until the last fan leaves the area. Then the curtain finally drops.

Everyone heads backstage or to the trailers behind it for food and drinks. 

All except one person. Steve Harrington.

He looks around to ensure the coast is clear, approaches the giant coffin structure, and puts his hand on it, still warm from the flames.

"I never did find the right time to tell you this, and it looks like I'm too late." The tears prick his eyes again, and the first one that escapes down his cheek causes the rest to follow in droves. 

His sobs are so loud he covers his mouth to quiet them for fear of anyone overhearing, "I love you, Eddie. I just didn't know how to say it, I-I d-didn't know if you felt the same, so I'd act like I didn't care and hoped you'd make the first move, but you didn't. And then you got famous, and were gone. I saw you a handful of times, and every time I wanted to tell you, something got in the way, or I chickened out, you know, because...well, because maybe you'd reject me and hate me or worse, you'd want what I did, and the press would eat you for breakfast. It would have ruined everything you built, and I couldn't handle that." 

He runs his hands through his hair, bows his head, and presses his forehead against the warm sheet metal. "I couldn't take that chance because I loved you so much, so very very much, Eddie." He plants a kiss on his fingertips and presses it against the name plaque on the coffin. He lets out a final guttural sob. "See you on the other side, Munson", he manages finally and walks away.

He takes a last look back over his shoulder as he wipes the tears from his eyes, and Steve swears he sees the thing move.

He shakes his head and takes a few more steps, he can hear Eddie cursing under his breath in his mind, and it makes him smile.

But then Steve freezes to the spot because there is a loud clang behind him. He doesn't want to turn around and fix Eddie's coffin, but who else is going to do it, right?

"Well, that was suffocating!" Eddies voice rings in Steve's head.

Steve steels himself and prepares to see the worst as he turns back towards the coffin, only to find the front of it completely off its hinges, and standing draped in his guitar, with crumbs in his hair and hat with two beer cans in with straws, is one, very alive Eddie Munson.

Steve cannot move. He mutters, "Oh god, I've finally lost it."

Eddie looks at Steve with a perplexed look on his face, "Ah, yeah, you have" he puts his hands on his hips, "Keeping a secret like that from me for like a decade. First of all, how fucking dare you wait until I end everything to tell me, and secondly, get over here, you big stud, and give me some well overdue sugar."

"What...the...fuck..." Steve fearfully whispers to himself, "I'm actually insane."

"Eddie!!" Dustin's excited voice rings out behind Steve as he charges forward, embracing him.

"Hey, watch my guitar, you little shrimp!" Eddie giggles and Ruffles Dustin's hair.

"Wait a second now," Steve says, finger pointed out in front of him, slowly stepping forward, "You can see him?"

Now it's Dustin's turn to look confused at Steve. He scoffs out a laugh, "Well, of course, I can! Are you feeling ok, Steve?"

"But...but...but he died...again...is he like... immortal, or something. Like a-a vamp.. vampire?" Steve tries gingerly, moving closer, one hand still stretched out in front of him like he's trying to ward off something evil.

Dustin and Eddie look at one another in confusion and start laughing.

"Steve, have you sampled some of the special backstage treats?" Eddie asks and turns back to Dustin, "I mean, that might explain why he also just confessed he's had a massive boner about me for over a decade!"

"Really?" Dustin says curiously, and Eddie nods as he takes off his guitar. "Wow."

Then the others start piling onto the stage, all of Eddie's nearest and dearest, and all of them are smiling and laughing and joking, except for Steve, who is watching this happen around him until he erupts.

"How can you all be so god damn normal about this??!!!!! He's just come back from the dead. Not like last time when he passed out. He's been dead for like a fucking month, and your all just-just fucking OK WITH THAT??!!" Steve is yelling at the top of his lungs, hands gesticulating wildly at them all, still keeping his distance, and the group falls silent.

"Oh, no, honey," Joyce says soothingly, walking towards Steve. "It's ok, it must be really scary to see this kind of thing, but you remember, right? It's all just for show." She turns and whispers to Hopper, "I knew all those bumps to the head needed looking at."

"FOR SHOW?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SHOW?! IT WAS EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE" Steve starts counting on his fingers, "It-it was on the news, and-and in all the papers, and-and the fans did all those vigils" He points accusingly at the band, "You were at least three of those!!"

Robin's eyes go wide "Steve, it's me, Robin. Hi!" She approaches him slowly, "I'm real. We're all real here. Everything is ok" Once Robin is within arms distance of Steve, he pokes at her and squeezes her arm to make sure she is, in fact, real, "OW!! Jesus!!!"

She bats Steve's hands away, "Ok, enough. Listen, did you open the fan club mail this month?"

"The fan cl-? What the hell are you talking about?? Is this a nightmare? Am I dead??!! Is this Hell??!!!" Steve shouts into the air.

"In this month's fanzine, it explained everything. The band wanted to stop and spend time with their families and start new projects, but the press was getting to a fever pitch with them. Gareth had his bins rifled through. Jeff couldn't even take his kid out for his birthday without getting hounded. So Eddie came up with this plan. That way, no one gets blamed for breaking up the band. It just is no more." Robin explains compassionately to Steve.

"So the whole crowd, all of you and the bands, they all knew it was fake?" Steve asks quietly whilst everyone is still staring at him and Robin.

Robin nods but then adds, "Well, not the other bands. We couldn't risk it, but we and the fans are loyal enough to keep a secret. Plus, if anyone even tries to say they've seen him, they'll be labelled like those Bigfoot-spotting people."

Steve shakes his head, "But I'm not a member of the fan club?!"

"The absolute audacity!!! What, you fucking love me, but you're not a member of my band's fan club? What kind of half-assed groupie are you?" Eddie shouts, astounded and a little insulted at Steve.

Jeff turns to Eddie, "You knew he wasn't, man. You made him that special membership card at the hideout for valentine's day, but you never gave it to him, remember?"

"Shut up!" Eddie says through gritted teeth at Jeff.

Steve stands more confidently, his hands on his hips, "Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah, that's right", Gareth laughs, "And then when we were talking about this, you said you'd call him and tell him yourself, Eddie, remember?"

Eddie bites his bottom lip and tries to look as innocent as he can from under his hair, smirking over at Steve, "Did I say that? Really? Funny thing that... I don't remember"

Steve's eyes go wide, "Why, you little shit!!" Steve runs and lunges for Eddie. Eddie is laughing and yelling as he's being chased around the stage by Steve, who eventually captures him in a bear hug when he runs the wrong way around the drum kit.

"urgh...god...let me..." Eddie struggles angrily and tries to wriggle free as Steve squeezes him.

"Oh-hoh no, you are going nowhere, you little prick!" Steve says, squeezing him tighter, making Eddie's face screw up, "What you did, was so not cool!"

"I...only...did...it...cus..." Eddie tries to talk, but it is difficult. He can hardly breathe.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses. You wanted to make me look like an idiot!" Steve says with an unimpressed tone.

Eddie's face is turning pink as he frantically shakes his head in a no.

"Oh, you didn't? Then why?" Steve says, loosening his grip enough for Eddie to take a breath.

Eddie's body sags a little as he takes a deep breath, "Because... I wanted to see if you'd be sad if I died." Eddie says quickly, "I mean, I didn't expect you to agree to headline and the whole speech, you know?" Eddie says, trying to hold back an adoring smile.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head in disbelief, "You made me go through a month of grief to see if I would be sad if you died?"

"Well...it was supposed to be just a day, but then I got genuinely distracted by everything, and then it was two weeks later, and then I thought I could surprise you by jumping out of the coffin, and you'd be overjoyed and I'd say something romantic to maybe win you over, like..." Eddie looks everywhere but at Steve as he details everything.

"Like what? What could you possibly say to make up for that, you complete shithead!" Steve says with an angry squeeze, making Eddie wince and groan.

"That I fought an army of angels and the hordes of hell for one kiss from your sinfully perfect heavenly lips because you're my muse, my love." Eddie manages to get the words out with a struggle.

"What?" Steve says, lessening his grip.

"The songs I write, the ones with my name next to them on the albums, they're all about you," Eddie says as he catches his breath.

"What?" Steve says again, wholly bewildered and fully releases Eddie.

"Our first number one, the one that got a Grammy, and was used in a bunch of movies. That's about you. The um, slow one with the choir on the unplugged album, that's about you. The one we close the shows with, the one with no words, that's about you too. And loads more," Eddie says, adjusting his clothes, looking back up at a dumbfounded Steve, "What? You had no idea? You don't remember? in the garage? You corrected the spelling of sleeve, but it was supposed to be Steve. I just forgot to cross the t" Eddie looks between Steve's eyes for a glimmer of comprehension.

"Ohhh", Steve says finally and points at himself and smiles.

Eddie smiles back at this lovable weirdo and nods.

Steve claps his hands together and looks pleased as punch, turning to the others still pointing at himself with a look of happy surprise. 

Everyone nods at him except for Mike, who throws his hands up, "Are you kidding me? The song we danced to at our wedding was about Steve??? Oh my god!" Mike has to be consoled by Will and Nancy.

Steve eventually turns back to Eddie with a massive smile on his face.

Eddie plays with his hair and looks coyly up at Steve swaying from left to right, "So I dunno, do you maybe wanna come live on a secret island with me for a few years until people forget about me, maybe? I mean, I'll have to get my hair buzzed first, and um, lose the whole rockstar get up" Eddie looks up hopefully and gives a cute little shrug.

Steve folds his arms and taps his lips thoughtfully, "Hmmm."

"OH, MY GOD! Could you grown-ass idiots just kiss already? I could be solving the mysteries of the goddamn world, ok? But instead, I'm stuck here waiting for a long-haired freak and his little ex-sailor boy bride to figure out what everyone else knew years ago!!" Erica shouts, exasperated.

"Apart from Mike", Dustin whispers.

"Yeah, except Mike, who is also on team dumbass!" Erica adds.

"Hey!!" Mike says, annoyed, and is immediately swamped by Will, Joyce and Nancy as Hopper pats Erica on the shoulder with a smile.

"Get offa me, sasquatch!" She says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you heard the lady," Steve says with a smile walking with an over-the-top swagger towards Eddie.

Eddie grins mischievously, jumps up to grip onto Steve like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, and kisses him, once on the lips, with an audible mwah sound.

Steve looks at him with a laugh, "I hope you've got more where that came from because you've got a lot to make up for, Eddie Munson."

AO3 Link

[askbensolo]

So... Hows ur mom?

…Where do I start.

So…uh…as you know, I was…not very responsive last week. I had a couple of missed calls from Mom, which happens so often when I’m mentally well anyway, that I guess it just doesn’t worry her anymore.

But I called her back. And, since the last time we talked went really well—she basically agreed that she didn’t need to hound me as much, because she knew she could trust me to tell her if I’m ever in trouble—I was honest with her about…about my little sadboi week.

I haven’t had an episode like that in a long time. The last time I got that depressed was two years ago, in senior year of college, when I was facing graduation and didn’t know what I was doing next.

It was bad. It happened during midterm season, and I literally just failed all my midterms that semester. All of them. I showed up for one of them hungover (don’t drink when you’re depressed don’t drink when you’re depressed), showed up for the next with an active panic attack, and then when I saw how horrendously I did on both I stayed in bed the rest of the week and didn’t even show up to take the other three because I was convinced my life was just over at that point—

Which was so stupid of me, because this is my second time getting hired, and no one has ever asked me about my GPA, not even once—

But anyway—all that to say—ever since that time in college, I’ve had a great track record of, you know, not wanting my life to end.

So...I don’t know why it hit so hard last week. I think maybe it was just too much at once. Getting the flu and being bedridden and not being able to do anything I love, missing Fannie and not having any sentient contact for several days, thinking about my new job and my new roommate and my new relationship (situationship?) and thinking to myself—wow—I am winging it—I don’t know what the hell I’m doing—I’m not a real grown-up, I’m just three kids in a trenchcoat—

So anyway. I told Mom about getting depressed. And...she got really worried. And she asked tons of questions.

“Did you have anyone with you?”

“No, Poe delayed his move-in since I was sick.”

“Did you message anyone for help?”

“No. Mom, you know how it works—”

"Did you reach out to your therapist?"

"Mom, I'm not her client anymore—"

"Do you still have access to the university counseling services?"

"Why would I, I graduated—"

"Did you try to see your doctor?"

"For the flu, or for the depression? Because the doctor wouldn't have been able to treat either—anyway, no—"

“Were you eating?”

“Uh. No—”

“Were you suicidal?”

And I stopped and didn’t say anything for a second, because, well, it’s not really that simple; it’s not always a yes or no question—but a second’s hesitation was too long for Mom, I guess, and her eyes flew open, and she said, alarmed, frightened, in a voice like an approaching tempest, “Ben Organa Solo.”

“Mom,” I said, trying to stay calm, trying to keep her calm, “Mom, listen. I know it sounds scary. But you gotta understand that there’s, like, levels to it. I had thoughts, flying around in my brain, sure, but I was never going to do anything—”

“No,” she interrupted, as seriously as if I currently had a blaster in my hand. “No. No. No. You should have called me.”

“Mom. Mom. What am I gonna do, call you while you’re on the senate floor just because I’m sad—”

“If you’re suicidal? Yes. Or call Dad. Call emergency services. Call anyone.”

“Mom. I wasn’t going to do anything—”

“I’m not interested in taking the chance,” she told me solemnly, her eyes somehow boring into me through the hologram.

“So...you don’t trust me,” I said, frustrated. “You don’t trust me to not just do any damn thing that comes into my head. You don’t think I know how to sort my thoughts into things that belong in reality and things that don’t.”

“You’ve attempted before—”

Geez, not that little nugget!

“That was almost seven years ago!”

“You just told me you weren’t eating, Ben! That doesn’t sound like you were making choices to try to keep yourself in this galaxy—”

“Mom, first of all, I was sick, and second of all, if I was gonna kill myself, I’d sure as hell find a faster way to do it than starving to death!”

It was the wrong thing to say. She seemed to go pallid—I couldn’t see it in the hologram, but I could sense it in her energy.

“…Listen to me,” she said, her lips tight. “Ben. You can’t let this happen again.”

I stared at her. “Mom…do you think I got depressed on purpose?”

“I mean, if it happens, you can’t just keep it to yourself and not tell anyone,” she said anxiously. “And you can’t miss my calls anymore. I just thought you were busy with work—I had no idea—Ben, you cannot miss any more calls from me, do you understand? And I want to hear from you every day if possible. Just a short little message.”

“Mom! You want to me to text you every day? What am I, eighteen? You promised me you were gonna get off my back—”

“Well, you promised you were going to keep me in the loop, and you didn’t, so that little agreement is over now as far as I’m concerned. I’m not asking for a lot, Ben. I just need to know that you’re okay—”

“Well, it sure feels like a lot—”

“Do you still write your blog?” she cut in, all of sudden, catching me way off guard. And I wasn’t sure why she was asking, but it definitely had something to do with wanting to spy on me. Yeah, yeah, I know it's not really “spying” if my blog is up here for anyone to read—but even though I'm happy to let you, a perfect stranger (well, you guys are more like friends to me now), wade through all of my trauma and my mental issues and my (lack of?) sexuality and my first time falling in love at age twenty-three and tons and tons of embarrassing poetry, I think even a chronic oversharer like me has the right to not have his mom reading all of that—so, I found myself lying before I could even decide whether or not to tell the truth.

“No,” I said. “No, my blog was so dumb. Nobody blogs anymore. Everyone's on Twi'ktok now. I stopped being popular. I haven’t touched that thing since I was, like, nineteen or something.”

Oh my Force, I thought. I just lied to my mom. And what a stupid thing to lie about, too, ‘cause all she has to do is not believe me and look it up and then I’m toast—

But I don’t think she had any time to ponder my answer, because then another question came to her—

“When does your new lease start?”

Oh. Oh. Not this. She was trying to get me to move back home again.

“Mom, it already started,” I said. “On the first.”

“Maybe you could still get out of it—”

“And what, Mom? Leave Poe to pay two thousand credits a month on rent all by himself? I don’t even think he has a job right now, to be honest—”

“He could find a new roommate. Dad and I could help cover some of the cost—”

“Mom, no! This is ridiculous—” and I was going to explain why, but then her eyes flashed, and then The Question hit the ground, the mother of all questions—

“Ben. Ben. Did Snoke try to contact you?”

And I knew the answer to that immediately. It was “no.” Because it had to be “no.” Because “no” was my only option if I didn’t want my life to suddenly hard-redirect straight into a wall and to go to pieces. And I’d already lied about my blog anyway, so, telling something that wasn’t even fully a lie was easier.

Because...it wasn't a lie. The full answer was “No, I didn't see Snoke, I just had a dream about him,” but that would have caused my mother to go insane, so I was just, you know, giving her the abridged college notes version—

“No,” I said, sounding so sure of myself that I convinced whatever part of me wasn't already convinced. “No, Mom, he didn't reach out to me.”

And I guess I convinced her too, because she relaxed a little.

“Good,” she said, looking like she was taking her first deep breath in several minutes. “Good.”

But, hoo buddy, I did not feel good in that moment. There’s a lot I don’t tell my family—I still haven’t even told them about me and Fannie yet—but I try not to lie to them. Usually.

…I’m talking about the part where I lied about my blog. I didn’t lie about not seeing Snoke. Because having a fever dream about him doesn’t count as seeing him.

I agreed to text my mom every day. Or…try to. Which...I've been doing, but…it’s been super painful, for reasons I can't fully explain. And get this—Mom said she’s sending over Threepio this weekend. Indefinitely. She tried to play it off like, oh, Threepio’s been getting in my way recently, maybe you could use a protocol droid around, I’m sure he would enjoy Theed—no, Mom, no, I can see this for what it really is. You are sending the family protocol droid to babysit your adult son. Seriously?? My apartment isn’t that big. We’ve already got another droid rolling around and getting under our feet all the time. Throw in Threepio, who never shuts up, and maybe I really will kill myself—

Sorry, bad joke.

Yeah…I have half a mind to just shut Threepio down once he gets here, and leave him powered off in the closet. But the idea of having a dead protocol droid in the closet kinda freaks me out, so…probably not.

And all this, just because I dared to be honest with my mom about still dealing with depression sometimes. Yeesh. I know I shouldn’t be, but…I’m kinda glad I didn’t tell her about anything else.

I thought about asking Fan whether she thought it was ever okay to lie. Like, in a situation where you know that everything’s fine, and telling the full truth would just stress everyone out for no reason. Fannie always seems to know what’s right and wrong, when I find myself wondering a lot of the time.

But...I was pretty sure I knew what she'd say, so...I didn't ask. And, besides…things are still kinda rough between us right now.

We made up about me not replying—I apologized for dropping the ball and not thinking about how that would hurt her, and she apologized for getting angry at me right away instead of trying to understand what was going on with me—but—but—the latest development? She asked me if I thought she weighed too much.

Like, randomly. No context. No lead-in. No nothing.

What??

WHY????

She’s never seemed to care about that before. I said, uh, I don’t know, I think that’s kind of up to you, how much do you want to weigh? If you’re happy the way you are and your weight isn’t negatively impacting your quality of life, you’re fine? If you want to change, you can?? I don’t know why you’re asking me???

But this must have been some kind of mysterious trick question with some mysterious right answer, because then she dissolved into tears and now it’s a whole big thing and I’m starting to think girls just speak a different language sometimes where all of the words are Basic but they just mean something totally different from what I think they mean and I don’t know what they mean and I still think I like things better this way, at least I’m pretty sure I do, I definitely did when we were—ha—kinda making out on the couch or whatever you call that—but things were way easier when we were just friends and things are way harder now that we’re apart and sometimes—sometimes, I just don’t know what the heck is going on.

[joelletwo]

(sets a timer) the exorcist postcanon lore i can remember off the top of my head

well the precanon is they were teenmarried in an impulsive haha jk unless 'lets run away from our restrictive homes' moment they immediately chickened out of post-signing the license. and then immediately the various inciting incident cracks in their teenage tenuously extended-grace-bc-theyre-lonely-w/o-peers ability to cooperate that happen as they become adults (seiji dad death-now new heir of the clan-eye attack, and whatever shuuichi's doing to get away that makes him go insane and become a celebrity in three years) makes them more or less lose contact and ignore the elephant in the room until canon. though seiji (and nanase) do poke fun about it sometimes and any time natoris like fucking hell i cannot let the paparazzi find out im legally married itll be a whole Thing can you please sign the divorce papers hes like hahaha what a funny joke shuuichi-san /_^ [mails them back folded into origami]

[various natsume-fueled char development we've disturbingly stayed kind of sort of on track for in recent arcs] -> matoba reconsiders his whole life and the fact that as an adult hes in total control of it and he kind of completely hates it. he wants a less black and white relationship w youkai he's forlornly looking thru the window at natsume and all his sick ass youkai friends. he gives up his eye to eye-eater to settle the matoba debt and (at least temporarily) quits his job and leaves the community and lives a life as just some weird-ass guy whos suddenly free to have hobbies (just picking up and trying whatever) and go to therapy and physically recover.

[per my fics] nanase uses this to get her favorite matoba child back into the picture and help them reconcile as seiji passes the clan back to [matoba sister. i have not reconsidered with shinobu i cant handle it kjsf] and they uncover some of the misunderstandings that drove them apart as kids

[also per my fics. NOW DEBUNKED I GUESS] when natori hears that matoba quit his job he seethes in anger bc FUCK he was gonna do that!!!!! now he cant!!!! but its an opening for them to reconnect and similarly patch up some misunderstandings or figure out where, now changed by time, they fit together differently and less conflictingly than before. natori has also been gently prodded by natsume into therapy and lots of outdoor hobbies where he can Find Inner Peace

i really still adore the idea of. matoba gets settled in his lonesome. um he adopts a youkai-seeing kid thats varyingly important i love her to pieces i cant get into that. read my fics look at our art. but matoba's got his own thing going on hes broadening his horizons in his new life. natori's happy to dip in and out but hes got ten million lives hes busy hes all over the place. they get back together but like. only strictly Share A Life in the typical sense like. in passing. irregularly. always keep in contact but theyre not like. moving in together. for a long time at least.

natori does lose his leg in a freak accident at random one day and he DOES keep the lizard afterwards. really important to me. he grows to love this guy. disabi/_^y 4 disabi🦎y

broad strokes. funny specifics:

matoba gets into doll restoration and has lots of pickling jars w body parts all over his place. natori spends lots of time in the woods lookin' at bugs as he gets fond of the gecko and learns more about geckos and then learns more about little guys in general. hes perfectly positioned to like. anthropology out the symbiotic relationships he discovers between insects and youkai. he writes an pseudonymous guidebook about this thats nichely successful and taken as whimsical fantasy

meanwhile sasada has never given up the goat on trying to prove youkai exist even tho her whole friend group wont admit it. i forget the details but she gets into the book and gets really into bugs to see if she can reverse-engineer the youkai side of the relationship without being able to see it. at some point meets natori thru natsume in just-some-guy capacity and finds out they both like bugs and they bond over that without her knowing hes the author. comedy of errors time ^_^

[kaminocasey]

We Were Golden (Part 1)

Summary: Order 66 is given and you can't fathom why the Republic would suddenly execute the Jedi. Crosshair doesn't seem to question it.

Pairing: Crosshair x f Medic!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Sexual implications, angst, Order 66, death, Season 1 tbb

WC: 1.2k

A/N: I have a million WIPs lmao. Why not add one more I guess? hahaha. Anyway, I heard Miley Cyrus' new "Flowers" song and got a little inspired.

Gif Credit: @cawyden

“Are you two finished?” You hear Hunter bang on the door. “We’re coming up on Kaller.”

Crosshair chuckles, pulling you against him before pulling up his pants, and kisses you. 

“Yeah, Cross… are you finished?” You laugh when he pulls away to fasten his pants as you situate yourself. 

“Sure am. Are you?” He pinches your chin so that you look up at him. 

“For now.” You shrug with a smirk.

You and Crosshair have been together for the last year since you’d joined them as their medic about when Echo joined. You’d mainly joined to look after him for a while but then ended up staying when you fell in love with the sniper. Now, they’re like your family and Hunter knows exactly what you and Crosshair get up to in the fresher but doesn’t bother stopping it anymore. He made a deal with the two of you that as long as it didn’t affect the squad, he wouldn’t stop you two from being together. 

You both exit the fresher with Wrecker chuckling at you and Crosshair as he lifts his Gonky. 

“Entering Kaller atmosphere in three… two… one…” Tech speaks up.

All around you the clones start to attack General Billaba and you look to Hunter for some sort of explanation. 

What is happening? And why is this happening?

“RUN CALEB!” General Billaba shouts to her padawan and he stops when he approaches your squad. 

Your heart shatters at the desperation in her voice. You look in time to see the general drop to the ground and the clones continue shooting her. You want to scream at them to stop, but you’re completely frozen with fear.

“Stay away from me!” The kid points his lightsaber at all of you. 

You can see the terror in his eyes and your heart breaks for him. Caleb takes off toward the treeline and Hunter tries to yell for him to wait but he just continues running. 

“What… what just happened?” Hunter asks, clearly just as confused as you.

Looking around, you see the clones pick up General Billaba’s body and carry it away.

“The comm channel is repeating one directive. Execute Order 66.” Tech tells him.

Order 66… what does that even mean?

“Yeah, I heard that too.” Wrecker says, confused. “What’s Order 66?”

“I… am not certain.” Tech sighs. 

“Echo. Tech. Talk to the reg captain. Find out what you can.” Hunter tells them then turns to you. “Are you okay? Do you need to go back to the ship?” 

Hunter knows you’re used to worse but this… this is something entirely different. Something you’ve never dealt with before. You’ve never seen clones just execute their Jedi Generals like they were nothing. 

“I’m alright…” You lie. 

You know that Hunter knows you’re lying but you’re running short on time. 

“Crosshair and I will go track down the kid and make sure nothing happens to him.” Hunter says then puts a hand on your shoulder just to keep you steady. “You and Wrecker stall anyone who tries to follow us.”

You look at Crosshair but he seems tense and won’t look at you. It sends a slight chill down your spine. 

“Be careful.” You tell him. 

He walks past you, and Wrecker even looks at you weird. Crosshair gets into moods sometimes when he’s cranky… but this… This was new.

“That… seemed off, didn’t it?” You ask Wrecker, just to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

“Yeah, it did.” Wrecker agrees.

You watch Crosshair and Hunter disappear down the hill and then wait for anyone to approach you. You’ll have to talk to Crosshair later. You’d like to keep your promise to Hunter that you wouldn’t let your relationship get in the way of missions. 

A few minutes later, a couple of regs come running up. They seem different somehow… more alert… sharper… It’s unsettling. Almost how Crosshair was…

“Where’s the padawan?” The one in the middle asks.

You eye their guns. Are they really going to kill a child? Surely they wouldn’t… He’s their commander… That didn’t stop them from killing General Billaba, though.

“Yeah, don’t worry… Hunter’s handling it.” Wrecker tells them.

“We have orders from the supreme chancellor himself.” The reg replies.

The supreme chancellor? Why would the supreme chancellor want to hurt General Billaba or this kid?

“That’s great. But like I said, Hunter’s handling it.” Wrecker nods. 

You can’t help the terrible feeling that’s stirring in your stomach. 

“Step aside, trooper.” The reg gets impatient and brushes past Wrecker. 

The second trooper follows and then the third stops to look at you.

“Who are you?” He asks you.

“I’m just a medic.” You shrug and Wrecker steps closer to you. 

He accepts that answer and starts to catch up with the other two regs. You look up at Wrecker, still terrified, and he pats you on the shoulder, encouragingly.

“Hunter, you’ve got regs inbound. I’m getting her back to the ship.” Wrecker comms Hunter.

“Copy that.” Hunter replies

“We have a situation.” Tech’s voice comes in over the comms. 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Tech.” Hunter replies. 

“It appears the regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.” Tech says.

You and Wrecker stop walking, looking at each other with shock and confusion. 

“What? Which Jedi?” Hunter demands.

“All of them.” Tech replies. “They’re saying the Jedi have committed treason… I suggest you get back here.”

“Can’t… Haven’t found the kid yet.” Hunter tells him.

All of a sudden, you hear distant blaster shots in their direction and without a second thought, you take off that way. You can’t let them kill this child. It’s not right, no matter what “order” they’ve been given and who gave it. 

Wrecker calls after you but you tell him to wait there and continue to run down the slope, just hoping you can help this kid in time.

You finally reach them in time for Hunter and Crosshair to be heading back your way. 

“Where’s… the kid?” You ask, out of breath from running as fast as you could.

Running in the snow wasn’t the easiest. You’d almost wiped out a couple times. 

“Hunter stunned him as he jumped.” Crosshair sneers, clearly in a worse mood than before.

Your head whips toward Hunter. “You what?!”

Hunter looks down at you, his helmet in his hand as he puts his blaster back in its holster. His expression is unreadable. He’s always been a bit dark and broody, but this was an expression you’ve never seen before. 

“Why would you do that?” You ask him, angrily.

“We were given an order.” Crosshair continues walking past you.

You push Hunter’s chest, forcing him back some, tears springing to your eyes. “What the hell? He was… he was just a kid…” 

Hunter sighs and looks up toward Crosshair who’s already further up ahead. Your eyes follow his and Hunter guides you back toward the way that you just came from. 

“Something isn’t… right…” Hunter whispers, clearly not wanting Crosshair to hear. “I didn’t stun the kid and he didn’t fall off the cliff. He made it across… using the Force or whatever… I couldn’t do it… I couldn’t-” 

You stop to hug him, quickly throwing your arms around him, and he freezes, confused.

“Thank you.” You murmur and then let go, turning around in time to see Crosshair watching you. 

Without another word, he turns back around and heads up the slope. You know that whatever is going on with him, it’s definitely not good and you’re definitely going to find out what it is.

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